#instead of just being nervous about living up to people's expectations and working on things i don't care about

[alphagodith]

a word of warning

if you spend all your time trying to deserve/earn your life/happiness, you won't have any time left to actually enjoy life

[roosterbox]

Had this random thinky thought the other day.

Pre-S4 Steddie are dating. Have been for a decent amount of time. They haven’t told everyone, but a few people know (Robin, Dustin). The thing, though, is that Wayne doesn’t know. Oh, he knows that Eddie has a boyfriend. He’s seen Eddie’s eyes light up like stars when he starts talking about this boy. About how beautiful he is. About how strong he is. And, most often, about how kind he is. After the buildup he’s been given, Wayne is pretty positive there’s no way for this mystery boy to live up to Eddie’s description. Especially with how loveblind his nephew is. But if the way Eddie lights up at the mere thought of him is any indication, he must be something special.

“Invite him over for dinner sometime, son. I’m dyin’ to meet this guy.”

Eddie agrees. And plans are made. But for whatever reason, said plans fall through. And keep falling through.

But then.

The events of S4 happen.

Steve manages to save Eddie, like he should have done in canon (but I digress). They end up in the hospital, and someone gets in touch with Wayne, who shows up almost immediately. And who does he see at his unconscious (severely injured) nephew’s bedside but Steve fucking Harrington.

Now I’m not saying that Wayne assumes the absolute worst upon seeing ‘King Steve’ Harrington in that room (the worst being that Steve has something to do with Eddie’s condition), but he does make his assumptions based on what he knows and remembers about Steve’s parents (especially his dad). Said assumptions are… not great.

He basically kicks Steve out. And Steve just… goes. Robin tries to protest on his behalf, but Steve tells her it’s okay. “Eddie needs him now,” he says.

Eddie doesn’t wake up for several days. Any time Wayne isn’t with him, Steve sneaks in. And gets kicked out again when Wayne comes back. Wayne, for his part, is getting more and more exasperated with his dedication.

But then Eddie wakes up, finally. Wayne and Dustin are there when he does. The latter leaves to give Eddie and Wayne their privacy for a tearful reunion, but he also calls Steve. A little while later, Steve shows up. He and Wayne lock eyes, and Wayne bristles a bit. He’s straightening up, preparing to kick him out yet again, before Eddie turns. And his entire face lights up in a brilliant smile. His eyes sparkle like twin stars.

“Stevie!” He says, imbuing the name with more emotion than Wayne ever expected.

Steve almost trips over his own feet to get to Eddie’s bedside, where he takes Eddie’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. He looks like he might cry.

And Wayne suddenly understands everything.

He lets them talk for a moment. They’ve seemingly forgotten he’s even there. There are soft loving affirmations, sweet names, and maybe even a kiss or two, before he clears his throat. The boys spring apart (Steve springs, at least), but don’t let go of each other’s hands.

“I really wish we could have gotten to meet each other over dinner instead, boys,” he says, gruff as always.

Steve looks nervous, but Eddie’s just embarrassed.

“Uhm,” Steve starts.

Wayne gently cuts him off. “I think you and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot.” And that wrong foot is entirely on me, he thinks.

Eddie looks between the two of them, confused.

“That’s okay,” Steve is quick to say. “You were just-“

Wayne cuts him off again, moving to the other side of the bed, hand outstretched.

“Wayne Munson.”

Steve hesitates, exchanging a glance with Eddie (who’s still terribly confused), before taking Wayne’s hand with his free one, shaking it.

“Steve Harrington,” he says as if Wayne didn’t recognize him on sight a few days prior.

“It’s nice to meet you Steve.” Wayne smiles. “Nice to finally see for myself the kid who makes Eddie smile like that.”

There are further discussions to be had. Eddie is angry (and a little heartbroken) to discover what’s been going on while he slept (“YOU KICKED HIM OUT HOW MANY TIMES???”), but in the end, it all works out. Eddie’s name is cleared. He (and everyone else!) makes a full and complete recovery (plus a few gnarly scars). And Wayne finally, finally, gets to sit down to dinner with his nephew, and his nephew’s boyfriend.

[makeupbychio]

training season // logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

Summary: Your actual training class sucks, so you asked Logan for his help if he’ll like to train you. He accepted and unexpected feelings were developed. The goal is to make you stronger and one of the best with or without your powers.

Warnings: Cursing, physical fights, injuries due to the fights, mutual romantic and sexual tension, vague mention of smut, Logan feeling unworthy, Storm cameo, just two idiots in love without saying it. Mentions of the Professor, Scott and Jean. Angst but with a fluff happy ending.

Words: 4k.

A/N: First things first, english is not my first language so I’m sorry if there is a mistake but I needed to write about this old man we all love so much. Also, very important to mention that your powers are related to energy and nature manipulation, and also you are a grown woman despite the fact that you take classes in the mansion. Thank you, hope you enjoy <3 Comments, feedback or ideas are welcome!! <3

- - -

From the moment you stepped into the mansion Logan knew you were going to be partners in crime. At first you were so cautious with your words and actions, it was because you never thought that you were going to find a safe place for you as a mutant, but once you saw all of the people that lived there and shared same fears and also joys, people just like you, you started to be your true self. Not just with your personality but also get the chance to get to know more about your powers and how to control it and be stronger.

The first times you talked to Logan were always with the Professor near, he was always trying to convince him to have his own class to teach the kids. All the times that conversation went on it was when Charles needed to talk to you or vice versa in places where Logan always somehow got it the way.

From your spot you saw every time they leave for a mission. And every day you work your ass off to be at their level and be part of the group because you wanted to be useful and contribute something to the x-men and not just live there and take classes.

One time you were walking to your class that Storm was in charge of, due to your ecokinesis powers being related to nature too, when Logan was going in the opposite direction. It was funny because he had such a serious face all the time but with you he always stopped to say hi and ask you how you are. Now or never you thought to yourself.

“Fine, thanks and you?” you asked him, looking up at him, you were grabbing your books close to your chest.

“Good, just going to the kitchen to grab some breakfast” he smiled at you looking at everything you were carrying.

You were so nervous to ask him about this but you saw what he could do, you stuttered and paced anxiously in front of him. “Cool, look I have like ten seconds before I’m late to Storms but I’ve been trying to ask you if you would like to give me a couple of training lessons? I know that you don’t want to have your own class, you made that very clear, trust me but…”

Despite your anxiety, you never break eye contact with him. So you saw how slowly his features changed to a surprise. He never expected that question from you. “Not to be mean, but why is that, princess?” he asked you full of curiosity.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen videos of you fighting and I need to be at that level” you answered him but still he wasn’t stoned because for him it is hard to love his powers sometimes since he’s been always treated as a weapon only. “Also, Scott classes are boring as fuck” you rolled your eyes just by remembering that you have that class before lunch.

Logan laughed at your statement, a cocky grin on his face now. His ego at his best because you were asking for his help instead of Scott. Logan didn’t want to admit that he would do it not just because to rub it in Scott’s face but also because since you arrived he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Every time you are around someone of the team he tries to crash the talk just to get to talk to you, he doesn’t know why he does that instead of just talking to you.

“Meet me at the lake after lunch, and we can discuss this better” Logan gives you a wink, you smiled at him with a thank you and rushed to your classroom. Storm was already outside in the hallway waiting for you, watching Logan disappear. She knows him, and she knew what this was all about.

So deals were made that day, and he promised to give you some training lessons with the condition you promised him to always give your 200% to every lesson. You didn’t know how many lessons he was going to offer but when he knocked at your door to go on you never gave him an excuse, sometimes you trained really late when you should be studying or sleeping, you were training with Logan. You were not doing anything illegal but you can sense that maybe the Professor would not like this, or maybe yes.

At first the whole time together was dedicated to just training. You didn’t have a spot, sometimes the lesson was outside, sometimes inside. But after a couple of them, in between you two found time to get to know each other. Logan was amazed by the whole you. About how fast you learn, about your charming but badass personality, about your powers, about you always being so honest and empathetic. So he found himself so mesmerized and in love with you. He kept his promise and with your hard work, lots of hours of study and training sessions the goal was for you to get to control your powers and be one of the strongest.

About two months passed and to get to train you better he had a lot of conversations with Storm in her classroom for him to get to know and understand your power so you could use it for better, also to get to know your limits with it.

“Why are you doing this, Logan?” Storm asked him once he reached her for answers of your powers. She wanted to make sure you were not going to end up with a broken heart. “She’s my best student and once she’s ready I’m going to talk to Charles to include her in the team” she looked at him with a deadly look without blinking to not miss a single thing from his face to reveal the truth.

“That’s exactly why! I want her on the team too!” Logan tried to escape his friend. “You said it yourself, she’s your best student, and with her actual training lessons she was going nowhere, no progress”.

“So since you are so committed to having more people on the team, I’m going to tell Charles you are okay to have your own class” Storm kept testing him. Logan sighed, trying to keep in secret his feelings. “Don’t do this to her if you are still in love with another person…” Storm said, with pleading eyes because during this time she got to know you too and consider you a friend besides her best student. Womanhood at its best.

Logan looked at Storm with a surprised expression at the accusation. He got serious and sat down in front of her, he took the chair and placed it with anger. “Okay you want to know the truth? First, I totally agree with you that she’s the best, I hope that you are talking not just about her grades that she gets in your class, I hope you’re talking about her whole persona because you know what happened? Since you think you know me so well. I don’t care anymore about Jean since a long time ago. You understand? That happened like a century ago, so you know what happened to me?” Logan was unstoppable with his speech now that his friend got him on his nerves, Storm knew this was going to be a monologue without letting her say something. “It happened to me to get to know someone so pure, so smart, so kind, not just incredibly beautiful but someone who really makes me think this world can be fixed for the better and also makes feel every time I’m with her that this is actually a place where I belong to for fuck sake!”. He growls finally pouring his heart out to his friend. He was scared to finally accept his feelings towards you.

Storm didn’t know what to say, she didn’t mean to upset him or to make him remember the awful times he had with Jean. Also, she was speechless because you were just at the entrance of her classroom god knew since when, your figure standing there lost of words too.

You arrived just in time when Logan was giving Storm the answer the mutant was looking for. You were not looking for Logan, you were there outside her classroom because you had to deliver the paper she asked the class the week before. You knocked first but Logan’s words were louder for them to hear you.

Of course after that, your whole relationship changed with Logan. But at that moment you didn’t know what to do, what to say. It crossed your mind that maybe he had feelings for you but when you arrived at the mansion the first thing you knew about Logan was the whole Jean thing, so every time you had a vague thought that maybe he liked you your mind immediately reminds you about his story with Jean. So you tried to keep it professional but with every conversation you had with him you found yourself also falling for him.

Also, during the lessons he never crossed the line with you. NEVER. Even when you hinted him that he could, he never did it. That’s also another reason why you thought he was not into you. So you were confused because he always gives you the brightest smile, told you his darkest secrets and got him calling you all the pretty nicknames, but never took advantage of the situation. Because for the training he had to touch you, to correct your postures, to teach you the attacks, fight against him, etc. But he touched you with a firm and yet soft grip. He was a true gentleman so even when you flirted with him, he never made a move on you.

Logan was also dealing with this confusion, his mind also getting the best of him tricking him every night he went to bed if you were flirting with him or you were just being nice to him. So he wasn’t going to push you until you told him directly about your feelings or what you wanted.

Just two idiots in love without knowing the other one is in love too. Classic.

“Y/N…” Logan said once he noticed you were standing outside Storm’s classroom. Storm felt like shit to push his friend like that. If he only knew you were in love too, but you got scared and ran away.

“Fuck…” Logan murmured to himself. He should have told you how he felt, but time passed within your lessons with him and his mind just assured him you were not into him because of all of the awful things he had done in the past and told you about it. He didn’t want to scare you so he gave you your space. “Well, now I think I don’t have to do this anymore, thank you Storm” Logan sat up from the tiny chair compared to his body, Storm also sat up from her desk wanting to say something to her friend but at this moment it was going to make it worse.

Thanks to the universe, you didn’t have more classes that day so you ran and hid in your room. That night you had training with Logan but after your cowardice you assumed Logan was not going to knock at your door for a lesson. You tortured yourself in bed all day about what to do because at some point you needed to leave your room, you skipped lunch and dinner. Logan still showed up at the casino and hoped to see you, when he didn’t he noted himself clearly to not bother you.

You debate on how to deal with this situation, Logan has a special spot in your heart to ruin everything. If he didn’t see you in that way as you feel for him it’s okay. You hope that at least you could be friends or just future colleagues. You are a grown woman so you can deal with a broken heart, it wouldn’t be the first time. So you changed in your training clothes, maybe for the last time because you also would understand if Logan doesn’t want to do this anymore.

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!” your roommate screamed at you that maybe someone heard them in the hallway. You told them about what happened earlier, they knew about the training sessions when they were worried about you why you left the room every night till late. “HE LITERALLY TOLD STORM HOW HE FELT FOR YOU, THAT HE LOVES YOU!”.

“No- I- He didn’t say he loves me” you corrected them.

“UGH I CAN’T WITH YOUR STUBBORNNESS SOMETIMES, MAYBE HE DID NOT SAY IT EXPLICITLY BUT HE SAID ALL OF THOSE AMAZING THINGS ABOUT YOU AND HOW YOU MADE HIM FEEL THAT’S LITERALLY LOVE!” they were about to hit you in the face to wake up from whatever delusional dream you were. “Go and fix this, if you really like him he should know”. They couldn’t blame your fear, you’d been through a lot and as a mutant they understand the feeling that you don’t deserve that kind of love because you were different.

After that awakening help from your friend you find the courage and before you chickened out you left your room to head to Logan’s room. It felt like it was so far away, like you were moving in slow motion. Once you arrived, you tried to knock on the door but Logan opened it to leave his room. His features changed immediately into a smile, so happy to see you. “Hi princess, I was about to go to your room to…” he explained.

“Logan, please hear me out. I’m sorry about earlier, I shouldn’t have ran away, I just- I never thought you would see me like that because I don’t think I deserve it, but what I’m trying to say is…” Logan never saw this side of you, nervous around him. Not even when you were also telling him your darkest secrets. He had always seen you so confident about yourself and your skills.

“Sugar, what if we go outside to train and we can discuss this also” Logan knows how to make you feel better. You always loosen up when both of you are training. It was a safe space, maybe it was all of the exercise that makes you feel relaxed or maybe that you both were alone without any pressure.

“Okay, yeah. Great idea, I’ll follow you” all the time you next to him heading outside to your favorite spot, the lake. It was late and the stars were shining bright. It was relaxing to see the water so calm and the warm breeze. The lake was really far away from the rooms, a lot of trees with damages due to the training of other students' powers, including yourself, that’s why the training classes were outside, most of them.

Somehow Logan just started the class like nothing happened earlier. “Okay princess, this one is going to be different. You have to knock me down with your skills and tactics I taught you”. he challenges you, ready for you to make your move. “I’m not going to give you an advantage, so…” he gave you a cocky smile. He was so ready, in another hand you were shitting bricks.

“Logan I don’t think I can do that, I’m- I don’t want to hurt you” you were regretting your decision, the truth is that your mind was full of what happened today that you can not think about anything else, so you were going to lose really fast.

“You can use your powers if you want, I’m not scared of it or of you. If you need to use them, go ahead, remember I heal really fast”. Logan was always encouraging you and celebrating your powers, not just because they are fucking awesome but also to make you feel good and make peace with them.

You’d learn a lot in every class about your powers, the natural energy manipulation you are connected to. You can communicate, influence, manipulate and control nature. Thanks to Logan’s words you feel confident that you can beat him easily by snapping your fingers to control something around him and win the challenge.

You recently learned about magma so you think about hitting with a magma fist, but rapidly he ran to you and knocked you down. “Okay, so this is going to be physical”. You groaned at the sudden pain, he was going to put it hard for you because you needed to learn to fight in case you were not able or stable to use your powers.

He was not going to use his claws, he surpasses you in height and weight but that didn’t stop you. He’s fast but after all of this time he teaches you some of his own tricks so you are now using them against him. This will be the only circumstance he will be throwing hands at you, and he’s still being gentle with you. Due to all the movement you are approaching the lake, so you corner him and with a kick on his ankle he is down.

Logan is trying his best to concentrate, he feels so stupid for being busy thinking how gorgeous you look tonight under the moonlight. So he got distracted easily when you pulled your hair up and next thing he was down on the floor so you took the opportunity to manipulate the ground around him, lifting him where he was laying and throwing him into the lake.

You didn’t punch him too hard so you hope he’s not going to drown. And he didn’t, he quickly surfaces his head. “Good job, princess!” he was so happy, already healing the pain you caused him with the kick. He was so happy all of the training was going so well with you.

“I’m sorry, Lo” you felt bad now looking at him stepping out the lake all wet. He got closer looking for your injuries, in case he accidentally used his claws. He is in front of you, really close looking for your permission to touch your scratches you got in your arm when he knocked you down. You just nod at him. He always asks for your permission even when you've been training for a while now. Every single time.

Unexpectedly, he touched your neck, finding a small scratch. You almost turned into stone at the sudden touch. His cold hand, due to the cold water that was still pouring all over his body, made you shiver. “I’m sorry” he looked at your face, that pretty face.

”Don’t worry, Lo. It was probably the dirt that made that. Not you” you assured him.

“I’m not talking about that.” now with a sad look on his face, almost like regret. “I’m not good at this, maybe because I’m not worthy but I should’ve told you about how I felt, about how YOU make me feel”. His body finally relaxing, feeling his chest like unraveling a really big knot.

You are getting all emotional, you shouldn’t have ran away that morning, you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings making him think that you didn’t reciprocate the love.

His hand is still on your neck, the other one holding your lower back. You ran your hand on his wet hair to put it all back, some of his locks covering his pretty face. You escape a small laugh looking at the new hair style. “What are you talking about? You deserve all of the good and love, I’m sorry for earlier but we are really dumb because I thought about the same about not being worthy of your love and also I thought you still have feelings for, well, you know, the rumors, so that’s why I never told you”. You leaned your head on his hand.

He brushed your tears with his finger, never wanting to see you cry again. “Like I said before, this is the first time I feel this and it feels really good because thanks to you I feel that I belong and have a purpose. I promise you princess if you want, I’ll protect and love you every single day”. His face is close to yours. Tears keep falling but happy tears to finally find someone so kind. You finally close the gap between your faces and kiss him so tenderly, because you couldn’t find any more words after his declaration. His smile is so big while he holds you close to him, never wanting to let go of this moment.

Like a cliche movie, the sky made a sound and rain poured from the dark clouds. Logan was already wet from the lake so he didn’t mind. He only cares about you. You broke the kiss to breathe, you looked deeply into his eyes and found that sparkle he always has when you are around him, but this time more intense. He looked up at the sky smiling, “Did you do this?”, he asked you with an eyebrow raised.

He wasn’t going to believe any of your answers. Because your emotions sometimes take control of your powers, what you actually did is that a lot of tiny flowers bloomed around where you both were standing. “I’m just guilty about this” you pointed at the ground.

“Okay princess, let’s go before you catch a cold” he took your hand to guide you inside the mansion.

Next morning, you showed up at Storm’s class with a wide smile, so she knew that the rain she made last night worked to make the moment more perfect. It was her way to make up for her two friends.

It took you about 5 months when he told you you were ready. It was a non stop thing, some days you trained twice. There were days you didn’t want to attend, because you had a shitty day, because you were feeling under the weather, or you felt insecure and unworthy. Your mind gets the best of you but every time you opened the door when Logan knocked, you felt way better when he greeted you with a smile and big kiss. “Let’s go, princess. Today we need to improve your attacks”. Every night after the lesson you ended up staying at Logan’s room for some reason.

Professor Charles noticed your improvement thanks to the recommendations from Storm and Logan, so he invited you to join the team. The day he asked you, you were so happy that you said yes in a second and ran to find Logan to give the big news. He was outside, fixing his motorcycle, a cigar in his mouth. Once he sensed you, he was greeted with your arms around his neck hugging him, he was so happy when you told him how it went with the Professor.

“Welcome to the team, princess” he kissed you, holding you impossibly closer to his figure. He knows this is important for you and he’ll keep his promise till the end of days to protect you every single moment, especially now that you are going to be out in the field too.

“Thanks, babe! I guess now we should be more cautious about us around the team” you frowned at him. Not wanting to be one of those gross couples in public but for Logan it is really hard to keep his hands off you.

“Fuck them, you’re all mine and they should be grateful I stopped complaining like I used to” his arms hugging your lower back, and his hands mysteriously always end up grabbing your ass. You giggled at his attitude, knowing he’ll fight the team every time they’ll complain. “God, can’t wait to see you in that uniform! You’re going to look even sexier”. He got all excited and you can feel it by being so close to him. It’s going to be hard for him to hold himself if he’s already like this without even happening your first mission as an x-men. “I think the training season is going to come back”.

[galeorderbride]

The Forest For The Trees - Fic Request (Gale x F!Tav)

A Gale smut piece requested by one of my OG readers @meglet1. Thank you so much for the request and for being you in general!! I seriously hope you like what I’ve written for you <3

18+ MDNI (This is SMUT/tags below)

Summary:

After Tav is nearly killed in a fight at Rivington Beach, Gale lets his fear get the best of him and a new couple spat ensues. Leading to a peaceful resolution :)

Tags: PiV sex, semi-public sex, inappropriate use of mage hand, oral sex (m and f receiving, including some choking), words of praise/encouragement, creampie, fingering (vaginal & anal), multiple orgasms, self-indulgent, some references to Tav having body issues.

Word count: 4.7K

Mind the tags, everyone. Fic below the cut:

“I decided to choose you and live, then you go off and almost get yourself killed!”

Gale wasn’t the type to air out his issues in front of everyone, but this time, he couldn’t shake the nervous energy off. Panic and anxiety of balancing on an uneven precipice, powerless. Just days ago, he chose to stay with Tav instead of doing as Mystra commanded him, deep in that haunting colony, where the Elder Brain resided and, because he decided to live, remained a threat to the entire Sword Coast.

Less than an hour ago, he and Tav returned from the beaches of Rivington with their companions. Running into a gaggle of rival gangs ready to slaughter each other. The guild, run by the infamous Nine Fingers Keene, and the new recruits of this Stone Lord everyone was talking about. Gale cared little for whose alliance went where. Not when Tav had decided to intervene right in the middle of things, doing her best to settle scores and ending up having to fight both of them.

In the crossfire, Tav was hit with an electrified weapon, a hammer imbued with thunderous damage effects that nearly killed her with the impact against her spine. Knocked down, she spent the remainder of the fight unconscious, no one having time to revive her until they’d finished the fight. Across a landscape of crime syndicate corpses, Gale watched with intensity as Shadowheart struggled to revive her. The image of her near dissolved heartbeat still aching within him, harsher than the orb. Gasping for breath at the last second when he thought he lost her forever.

She’d regained balance quickly, the powerful healing of Selune now imbued within Shadowheart’s fingers, even if she hadn’t quite gotten to admit it yet. Tav was walking normally, a little fatigued but nothing more than that. Which gave Gale the opportunity to stop being worried for her welfare and be upset instead.

“Do you know how close you came to death? How much I worried Shadowheart wouldn’t revive you? All for a bunch of criminals who would’ve cared for the dirt under their boots more than you!” Gale exclaimed as he paced around the hay shed at their camp outside Rivington. Tav followed, arms across her chest as she tried to contain a frustrated sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to get all of them against us. How many times has convincing people to cool their heads worked on this journey? Times we never expected! I didn’t think this would be an exception,” she replied, her voice soft but assertive in her own defense.

“That’s what happens when you expect things to work in your favour! We can never assume anything is an absolute certainty, and I’ve been saying this from the beginning. I know it’s in your nature to stick your neck out for people, but do recall that I gave up on what might be the heaviest task of my life so I could be with you!” Gale continued, letting his panic get the better of him.

Tav’s eyes widened, now no longer trying to placate. “Don’t you use that against me! My encouragement to have you stay with me is not a blank check to use against me when I do something you dislike. I asked you to stay because I love you! And I had no intention of starting a fight today, nor did I plan to end up in the state I did!”

This was around when the rest of the camp began to hear them arguing. Frigid looks turned their way by Shadowheart, Karlach and Wyll. Eyerolls and mischievous scoffing from Astarion. Jaheira simply shook her head and mumbled ‘young love’ under her breath. Gale pretended not to hear it.

She looked at him with such offense, eyes dotted with the threat of tears from his fury. Any motivation to be cross with her slowly waning each time his eyes met hers.

“I love you too! Which is why I’m so off put by what happened to you. I don’t want to see you putting yourself in danger and disregarding forethought! I don’t think you understand just how much I can’t—”

Gale didn’t finish the sentence, brought on by a fear that he’d overwhelm her in saying such an intense thing. They’d confessed their love in a spur of the moment, when the culmination of all they’d been through was knocking at the front door. Emotions were high, and while he meant every word he said, he didn’t want to cross a line and compromise the start of a wonderful thing with Tav. Deep down, he’d loved her from the moment he saw her, and each day he got closer to admitting that out loud. Precisely why he reacted with such fear to what happened at the beach.

Tav crossed her arms, an expression of seriousness he’d never seen before. Well, not directed at him.

“Can’t what? Don’t let this be the time you don’t use your words, Gale. Because I am this close to storming off,” she said, pinching her index finger and thumb together in an impatient motion.

“I can’t…live without…you,” he said, his voice starting loud and then slowly quieting as he completed the sentence.

The two of them stopped short, silence washing over them as his words sank into both their minds. Memories of their first night together flooding back, when he showed her everything he could offer. A beautiful experience in the Outer Planes, where their souls entwined within currents of raw weave. Expressing their new love in countless ways, too many for one evening, but they did all they could. Loving, tender, but despite it all, not real. Not bodies together, the physical exertion of passionate, violently yearning intimacy. Just what Gale became tempted with after he spoke those long awaited words, as the anger melted from his system and replaced itself with carnality.

There wasn’t time for Tav to respond. Astarion cut in with his usual mocking tone. “Would you two get a damned room? Your voices are grating and I’m trying to enjoy a nice glass of wine I stole from Last Light.”

“I knew that bottle was familiar!” Jaheira cried out, no longer paying attention to Gale and Tav.

Tav sighed, bothered by the chiding of their companions. She felt on the spot, watched in all the wrong ways. Gale gently grabbed her arm.

“Come over this way,” he demanded, short and impatient. Quite possibly the briefest she’d ever heard him speak.

He pulled her away from the camp, a short but fair distance from their companions. Clusters of bushes and broken trees began to fill the space as he brought her forward. The sun was setting above them, hues of paradisiacal magenta and orange above them, beaming through the shaking leaves. Tav didn’t have much time to gaze upon the natural beauty, for Gale led her as if running to safety.

“Gale, where are you taking me?! You’re pulling too much, I’m going to lose my balance,” Tav questioned.

A few seconds went by, Tav’s curiosity getting the better of her as she’d never seen him so flustered. Trees surrounded them, but not enough to block the bustling city lights of Rivington on one side and the fire of their camp on the other. Voices of Karlach and Lae’zel talking could still be heard from the distance they stood. Tav had never been to this side before, but Gale had a way of making her feel safe no matter where.

“Come here, love,” he said, his arms moving to hook around her waist as he pushed her gently against a large tree.

She had little time to take a breath before his lips were on hers, soft but with an ardent passion once resting in bubbling irritation, now sprouting into lust. Their bodies pressed together, hips against hips as Tav began to melt into his wandering touch. Her knees nearly buckled when his index finger grazed the ridge of her jaw, tongue caressing her own. Temptation to run her fingers through his wondrous hair was too great, that strange sensation of a near death if she didn’t, silken texture on her skin enough to forget about everything they argued about.

But his words hung loose in her mind, and she pulled out of the kiss for a moment. Their faces still centimetres apart as she whispered, “I can’t live without you either. I’m sorry I wasn’t careful.”

Gale rubbed his nose against hers, that playful, breathy grin plastered on his face. “Let’s just look out for each other, alright? It’s so easy to get ahead of oneself, and I love you too much to watch idle by and pray you know the risk. You are a powerhouse of might, my love, but neither of us is invincible.”

“I know, I know,” she said in a hushed tone, so whisper thin the crickets chirped louder. Night fell fast, unburdened by clouds and blanched with a sea of stars. Everything was perfect, a moment in time that both of them longed for since their first time together. Opportunities never coming soon enough as their arduous adventures took precedence over everything. Now was the time, when the sky’s darkness masked them from the rest of the world’s troubles.

Gale answered with peppering kisses down Tav’s neck, shivering at the supple softness against such a sensitive area. For the first time since before Mystra, he wanted something purely physical—mortal. Covered in the finite flesh of his new love, giving pieces of themselves as a simple reminder that they remained alive. He’d forgotten the lure of that desire, powerful and impossible to satiate without going the full way, being as close to Tav as humanly possible.

Cracked bark scratched the itches of Tav’s back, pressed ever harder with each kiss from neck to collarbone. Desire budding at the touch points of her body; at the tip of her breasts, the heat of her ears, the tingling between her legs. Those parts growing more swollen with want when she felt the brush of his palms around her waist, fingertips dipping under the hem of her shirt to tickle her lower stomach. They were like teenagers sneaking around behind a schoolyard, eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one saw them enjoy each other. A thrill long forgotten on both sides.

“Gale, won’t someone hear us? We’re still close to camp,” Tav said between laboured, lustful breaths.

“With all we’ve been through, I highly doubt they care. But to ease your anxieties,” Gale replied, waving his hand to create a violet purple dome around them, “A silencing spell.”

“Perfect,” she said.

With a quick maneuver, Gale unclipped the belt of her wrapped shirt, slowly folding the fabric over her shoulders. He took his time, relishing in the pull of cloth from skin, little reveals each second until she bore herself bare to him. A maroon brasier remained, almost black under the moonlight and slipping low. Enough to catch a glimpse of her nipples, begging to spring free from constriction. Meanwhile, Gale spread her longer shirt across the ground, using clothes as a makeshift bed—if not to remedy the future ache of his knees. He unwrapped his robes as well, left only in a white, linen shirt and trousers.

He could hardly concentrate, the beauty of Tav under the moonlight too transfixing to not stare upon. Fitted perfectly in her under clothes, the rise and fall of her chest teasing him without trying. Watching like she didn’t notice, but she did, and began to strip for his pleasure. Removing the straps of the bra first, slow against her shoulders, the perk of her breasts peeking out before the clasp snapped free. Gale stood before her, watching with a subtle grin.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Tav. Do you know how much? How I ache to the point of fever when graced with your presence?” He asked, voice dark with lust, a gruffness she didn’t hear when in the Outer Planes.

“Even as I am? No magic or beautiful strands of starry weave around me? Surely this can’t be as exciting as that time,” she said, not intending to be self conscious, but failing to keep that in check. Not a goddess, not a higher being in the form of a body, but just herself. Scars, blemishes, bad angles and all. Mortal in all the wrong ways.

“As you are is more than anything the weave could offer. Having you naked under the moon like this is a memory embedded in my mind for eternities to come,” he said, stepping over to her to help unbutton her pants. He ensured his fingers touched every part, no matter where, and his breath against her neck warmed and cooled.

“Oh, my, you give me no chance with words like that,” she said.

Between bountiful, romantic kisses, the rest of their clothes were discarded into the flattened pile. Too impatient to go somewhere with room to conjure a full bed, absorbed in the embrace of each other as they fell into the fabric. Tav straddled his waist, lowering down so she could still glide her tongue against his. Never wishing to part her lips from his for the rest of the night. Craving the push of his hands embedded in her skin, down her spine and over the hill of her ass, ending with a firm squeeze.

Not a single part of her didn’t feel something. Her nipples gliding against his chest hair, hardening them in seconds with the playful tingle at the tips. His hands finding purchase, amused enough to spank the right cheek with a hard enough force to have her yelp giggle and yelp out loud. And that irresistible grind of his growing erection pushing against her core, hastier than himself, simply begging to push into that tight, unoccupied hole. Just the beginning, and yet she already preferred being together like this, fully in tandem with each other, nothing but their beating hearts and heated bodies.

Eventually, both of them needed to take a breath, locked in a heated make out for a time they lost count of. Tav lifted her body up, back arched in pleasure as Gale followed teeth-first. Biting, sucking, licking her nipples, each side deserving of his equal attention. Delicate moans grew into hot, heavy woes of passion, caring little for noise control with the purple dome of silence above them. Saliva trailed down her breasts, her wizard so lost in the ecstasy of tasting those pink, round buds. Hugging her in his arms, moving his cock against her to feel the head getting wetter with her slick.

Tav whispered in his ear, fingers tangled in his hair, “Perhaps I should get into danger more often, if this is the consequence.”

Gale chuckled, muffled by the slide of his tongue around her earlobe, “No need. Should you want my services, all you have to do is ask. Nicely. With a very eager ‘please’. Now, I am on the precipice of sliding into you this instant. But I’d have you come first.”

Hands firm on her ass, he pushed her forward, legs buckling over as he laid down. Angling himself so her core hovered over his face as he continued, “On my mouth, darling.”

Unable to contain her giggles, she adjusted her legs to straddle the sides of his face. Too gradual for Gale as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down. Tav gasped from the heavenly sensation, his lips and tongue all over her pussy in seconds, nodding his jaw up and down to stimulate her slit with his stubble. His tongue moved with expert precision, letting Tav take control of the pace as he moaned into her cunt, slurping and sucking at her as if drowning himself in her essence. There wasn’t enough lip biting and stifled moans in the world to keep her from building up to a snapping orgasm, inch by inch as she swivelled her hips around his face. His nose jutted against her pubic bone, mouth focused entirely on her swollen clit, pushing her down to ensure she wouldn’t move away. Even as her inner thigh muscles shook with pleasured tremors.

Tav stuttered out, “Holy fu…ck…Gale, I’m s-so close. Keep going, keep going! Now, yes, now!”

At that point, she was using any superlative her blurred mind could conjure. An orgasm flowered within her, strong, hot and never felt in a very long time. She clawed his hair under her legs, twitching hips riding out a wet climax, dripping into his beard. A taste he’d never get enough of, buttery and sweet on his tongue. He’d be happy to suffocate under her in a bid to have her finish again.

Coming down wasn’t an option, continuing to flick his tongue against her clit even as her muscles relaxed. Sensitivity stung at her pussy, sharp hits of pleasure shining through with each feral moan he made. A sound so enticing, she melted for him, allowing his hands still on her ass to push her further forward, rear completely up. Behind her, he snapped his fingers, figments of magic beckoning around her in a light blue glow. Tav could barely pay attention, lost in the feeling of his tongue lapping at her cunt. Until two fingers pushed into her entrance, filling her quick but smooth in an electrified vibration. A mage hand, finger fucking her from behind. Taking her to a place of impossible pleasure, no choice but to let go.

As Gale sucked at her clit, muffled words came from below her, “Does that feel nice, my love? Can you cum all over my face again? That’s it, let the hand fuck you, good girl.”

“Gods above, Gale, I’m so sensitive! But fuck it feels so good!” She exclaimed, whimpering with each buck of her hips against his mouth, the hand following every angle so not a centimetre pulled out. Pumping into her tight walls, angling in just the right direction to have her shaking for a second climax.

“Let me help you even more,” Gale said, motioning his wrist to command the mage hand to push its thumb at the entrance of her asshole. Prodding in and out, gently easing in enough to thrust in the same rhythm as the fingers, slick sounds of sex invading her ears. She gasped at the hot tightness, cunt thoroughly stimulated in every way. It was perfect, hitting every spot just how she liked, and some she didn’t know existed. Gale was simply eager to please, laughing slyly as he felt her orgasm again.

Tav quaked at her second finish, overwhelmed with searing ecstasy. She cried out, “I can’t take it anymore, please! Too—too sensitive.”

The mage hand vanished with her command, easing the pressure of overstimulation palpating in her veins. Gale couldn’t resist one, soft kiss on her clit before letting her move off of him. Without her body to focus on, the ache of his rock hard cock snapped into awareness. Precum dotting the head, so stiff he feared it might break at the gentlest touch. Proven wrong when Tav brought her lips down to the tip, licking off the salty cum. Giving him a taste of his own medicine as he shivered in sensitive rapture. Both of them had a tendency to get carried away, as what was meant to be a simple tease with her tongue led to her taking his cock into her mouth. Using her hand to pump at the bottom of the shaft, too big to go all the way down.

Choking and sucking sounds filled the air as Gale writhed under the mercy of her mouth. Running her hand up and down his bare thigh, hypnotized by the lusty song of his satisfied whimpers. He wanted to tell her this wasn’t necessary, he enjoyed seeing her enjoyment. But as her throat coated his cock, he was rendered speechless. More so when she bobbed her head up and down, moaning through her nose as he gently joined her by fucking her mouth. Small, quick thrusts in fear of hurting her, but enough to make his calf muscles strain.

Spit and precum doused his cock as she lifted him out of her mouth, a raunchy ‘pop’ sound coming from her lips. Gale’s shaken, pleasured sighs covered the forest, stimulated by the cold air kissing the wet surface of his raised erection. Tav fawned over how it glistened, her core pulsing and tightening with the silent beg to be filled. Surely, she’d pass out if he wasn’t inside her immediately.

Gale exhaled deeply, shaking his head with unfathomable joy. “You will be the death of me. That felt…so good. I don’t even know how to describe it.”

She smiled, failing to contain the blush on her face. How she loved to know he was already satisfied. “We’re not done yet, my love.”

Her leg hooked back over his waist, straddling him again. This time, angling the opening of her cunt right against the desperate head of his thick cock. He looked so beautiful below her, gleaming with sweat and rosy with anticipation. Fingertips tickling up and down the sides of her thighs. Gods, when he laughed, that lusty chuckle of boiling desire had her foolish in his arms. She chased that sound, easing down on his cock until he bottomed out inside her. The stretch and slick of her walls fluttering around him forcing a high pitched whimper from her. Clit shuddering at the sensation of little hairs against it, nearly orgasming right there. Never had she wanted someone so much, craved another’s touch in a way she didn’t know was possible until meeting him. Everything about him was magnificent.

“Moan for me, love. I want to hear your every sound as I fuck you,” Tav demanded, locking her palms on his chest as she began to ride him. Fast, fervently, hips bucking back and forth so good he obeyed instantly. Husky, sultry, moans and even guttural growls with each grind of her pussy against him.

One hand stayed on her thigh and the other kneaded at her breast, his thumb flicking and pinching her nipple while her languid movements continued. By now, he could see when she was close, biting down on her lip to concentrate as she ignored her aching muscles. More warmth and wetness dripped along his cock. He nodded to her, let her use him as a toy for her own pleasure, moving pieces of hair from her face at the same time.

“Let me see you cum again, please. That’s it, ride my cock like that. So wet for me, I can’t believe it. Keep going, yes, very good. You’re doing so well,” he said, words of encouragement coming with his thumb moving to her clit. Rubbing the spot he learned she liked, just a little assistance in getting her over that impossible edge.

Tav’s body cramped up as she squeezed onto his cock, crying out Gale’s name as her third climax ripped through her lower half, felt even at the tingling peak of her breasts. He could’ve done anything in that moment, came anywhere he liked, and she’d be fine with it. Her orgasm all the stronger as she pictured being covered in him from face to pussy. A debauched mess on top of clothes, fully vulnerable to him.

Seeing her above him brought his own release closer. Unable to wait as he pulled her torso down to kiss her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth with reckless abandon. Tav yelped playfully as they kissed, paralyzed by the ecstasy of being fucked into. Sore, sensitive and hedonistic, she relished in the hard thrusting and the heated touch of their perspired bodies together. Wishing this would never end but craving his release inside her at the same time.

She left the kiss to whisper in his ear, biting his earlobe, licking at him, “Finish inside me. Please, I want it so bad.”

“Oh, gods, Tav I’m going to—right…ah!” He groaned out the unfinished sentence, his impatient cock spilling inside of her tight hole. He pulsed within her, feeling his spine arch as he experienced likely the greatest orgasm he’d ever had. Reaching his entire body, lasting longer, an addicting taste of eternal paradise. Tav’s soft whimpers the final touch to the most wonderful feeling.

She moved off of him, laying flat with her legs open. Gale still felt trickles of desire in his stomach, not enough to get hard again so quickly, but enough to lean over her thoroughly fucked cunt. His breath warmed her skin as he caressed his tongue along her clit, letting his index finger rub her cum-filled entrance as he did. All she could do was wheeze, too tired for a full moan but adoring the feeling of his mouth on her again. He was gentle this time, careful not to bring out the growing soreness. No, he just softly licked, kissed and sucked at her clit, stomach sinking with carnal intrigue as he watched his cum dripping out of her. He wanted to mark his territory, give her one more orgasm to be certain she knew she was his. Even just a little one.

Tav concentrated with the full power of her exhausted mind, feeling herself ready to climax once more. She couldn’t believe how skilled he was, moaning his name out again as he pinched her lips together, pushing her clit further into his mouth. That, mixed with the amazing sensation of his cum inside of her, was enough to inch her into that little release. Her fingers clutching his hair, pulling slightly as she came for a fourth time. A tiny bit more of his seed poured out of her as she relaxed.

“Perfect,” he said, leaving her core and moving to lay beside her, “You are amazing. I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

Tav smiled, cuddling into the crux of his shoulder, “I should be the one to say that. No one’s ever been so attentive to me. And by the gods, I have never finished that many times.”

“Oh, my love, I am excited to inform you that wasn’t even all I can do. If I had you in a bed, with a private bathroom, different corners of the room to take you in; you’d have at least six, I’d make sure of it,” he replied.

“In that case, we must find an inn as soon as possible,” she replied, kissing his cheek as he scooped her body closer to him.

They cuddled for a few minutes more, letting the cool, night air dry their sweat-drenched bodies before returning to camp. Hand-in-hand, eyes doled with the fire of new romance and the comedown from lovemaking. What began as the rising moon, evening pink with sunset, had transformed into deep night, pleasantly dark and glinting with fresh, sparkling stars. Neither of them wished for a conclusion, but sleep beckoned and they had no idea what might happen tomorrow. Tav only knew that she’d refrain from taking too many risks, as now she’d become a fool for someone else entirely.

Gale and Tav agreed to share a tent tonight, and from now on. First, she went to the smouldering fire to grab a piece of sunmelon and her water canteen. The rest of the camp now silent as everyone retired for the evening, except for their most nocturnal companion: Astarion. Who had returned from the other side of the woods, pallid complexion brighter than usual, a sign that he just fed on an animal.

“Good hunt?” She asked, finishing off the last bite of her sunmelon piece and throwing the peel in the fire.

“Never as good as the real thing, darling, but enough to tide me over. Perhaps I should’ve saved some for you, tired little adventurer,” he replied, brow raised in that cheeky expression. Always present when he was about to take the piss out of someone.

“Fruit and water will suit me fine. Goodnight, Astarion,” she replied, turning to head for Gale’s tent.

Astarion spoke as she walked away, “By the way, remind your wizard to maintain his silencing concentration. If I’m going to hear your debauchery, I’d rather hear it from the beginning and not halfway through. Goodnight, Tav!”

Tav cleared her throat, swallowing down her growing embarrassment as she walked to Gale’s tent. Knowing fully well what kind of teasing she’d endure the next morning. For now, she would simply sleep in Gale’s arms and deal with the rest as they came.

[jiminrings]

fail-safe (2)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you've heard nothing about it, so you're thankful.

alternatively, yoongi reminds you of home in more ways than one.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, brother's best friend AND single dad au, eventual fluff, a lot of yearning but For What, they reunite but at what cost rlly, jealousy, self-loathing, unrequited love (initial), deja vu but in the worst possible form, eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: i am So sorry for this .

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist

FIVE YEARS LATER

The trip back home wasn’t as rough as Yoongi expected it to be.

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between sitting in economy seats versus first-class seats, even if they’re situated on the same aircraft. When he left, Yoongi was irritable (amongst other things) to keep bumping elbows with everyone else; now that he’s back, he almost misses the ruckus in the cabin that’s far too cramped for everyone who could afford it.

Yoongi used to hate people like himself — atleast the version that he is now. He hated bastards sitting upfront in seats that reclined all the way back and ate off plates instead of noisy, flimsy plastic containers. Back then, deep down to his very core, he wanted that lifestyle for himself. To become bigger and better than he could ever imagine for the life ahead of him was always the goal.

Now that he’s at the peak, maybe even being the peak himself, he feels weirdly homesick.

“You need to bundle up all the way, Haneul. They’re gonna scold me if you’re not covered from head to toe,” Yoongi playfully chides his son, the insecurity and nervousness underneath his tone flying right over his head. It’s not even that cold, but still, a huge part of Yoongi worries.

He worries everyday if he’s a good dad to his four-year old. He worries if he’s good enough to be a solo parent because after all, he’s the one who has main custody of Haneul anyway. He worries and worries, but there’s nothing quite like the trepidation he feels being back home with everyone who has ever known him prior to all this success, suddenly seeing him come home.

It should be the opposite way around, that’s what everyone says to him. Yoongi had been queasy the whole flight back home despite the flight being one of the smoothest trips he’s ever been on in his life. He’s nervous to be back where he had been born and raised and he doesn’t know what’s that supposed to mean, except for the fact that he has an inkling of what the weight in his chest pertains to.

He’s back because it’s your mother’s 60th birthday. He’s back because her and Namjoon had asked him to, and he obliged without even thinking about it. Yoongi had offered numerous times to throw a party for the woman who had practically raised him alongside his closest friend, and even if Namjoon had backed him up on the grand idea for such a large milestone, she said no. All she wanted was for everyone to be back home, and Yoongi couldn’t say no.

Neither could you.

Yoongi is not the most modest person alive, but he is at his humblest when he drives the long way home just to delay the inevitable. He’s happy to the point he could be sick. He can’t tell if it’s the joy or the anxiety in his chest that makes it tighten, almost unbearably so, that he makes Haneul reach up to his forehead to check if he has a fever.

Yoongi’s home.

Not Los Angeles home, and not New York home. Not his home with a closet that’s the size of his childhood house’s living room, and not his space with the big windows and concierge downstairs.

Yoongi’s home — where the streets are narrow and the stairs are creaky; where this time, it’s all of him and none of you.

.

.

.

Enduring is different than working.

You’ve realized that the two concepts are drastically different as soon as Yoongi left, leaving you to survive the remaining years of your degree before you had to face the reality that you had to work to the bone for the rest of your life if you wanted a shot at living an average, food-stocked-in-the-fridge kind of life.

You didn’t know anyone who was connected to someone of importance one way or another, your family had zero ties, and you graduated from a university that raised more eyebrows in confusion than it tilted heads in awe. Your degree does havehigh promises as far as everyone in your town was concerned — it does and it should be, if only you were born and raised in different circumstances.

There’s not one acclaimed and high-profit company that would ever accept the likes of you. You worked hard and even if there were no exchange student agreements and Latin honors to show for it, you really did. You gave your best to graduate with a degree you never really liked and was only forced upon you, all for the promise of a future. It didn’t matter if it was extremely good or bad — everyone else just said you had to have one.

Your misfortune is what it is. It’s empty and haunting and the two weeks you had spent in the city right after graduating is truly something you never want to relive.

In hindsight, gambling the rest of your pocket money on a bus fare in your last day of job-hunting in the city at the time was a stupid decision. It was impulsive and irresponsible and everything your family scolded you for, what Yoongi hated you for, but it ended up being the single best gamble you’ve ever made, even above entry-level lottery tickets.

The same circumstances that held you back from where you’re supposed to head ended up propelling you to somewhere far, far different. Your degree became completely irrelevant, and the fact that you had nobody of significance in the city– no person to pass malice and gossip onto— made you a manager.

It had been a gamble to go work for an unknown entertainment company, much more a sinking one. It was an insult to have busted your ass back in your hometown, studying and working at the same time, only to work professionally in the city for a field that you didn’t even study about.

Your fate is what it is. You’ve endured and worked hard enough to the point that you had finally lucked out. Being the manager of someone who had later turned out to become the biggest actor in the industry, even in Hollywood, became your biggest break up to date.

Your way back home feels like an embrace you’ve denied yourself for far too long. You’ve mainly stayed in Seoul apart from the several hundred times you had to come with Jungkook for filming outside of the country, yet you could only count on one hand the amount of times you came home without anyone telling you to.

Coming home had become foreign to you as much as leaving it had become familiar.

“I’m near, Joon,” you hum to your phone, taking a quick glance at the cake you’ve strapped to your front seat. “It’s only us, right?”

“Yeah. Just us.”

Maybe it’s your fault for changing what us meant throughout the past five years, but Namjoon’s definition never changed. Maybe it’s your fault for not clarifying what he meant when you’re still kilometers away, when you can still leave, but nonetheless, you were cornered.

Us meant what it used to be when you were a kid in your childhood home — when Yoongi was still in the picture and you didn’t hate him for it.

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.

In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.

Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.

He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.

His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.

Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.

The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.

In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.

“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”

“I’m not immature, you asshole!”

“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”

“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing them against you.

You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.

When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.

You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.

“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”

“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”

.

.

.

You’re numb if that’s the word for it.

Your chest buzzes emptily the same way your fingers clench around nothing. You look at everywhere and everyone but Yoongi and his son. It’s nauseating to even think that everyone’s eating dinner as if everything’s okay; what’s even more sickening is that somehow, you’re willing to settle for it.

Yoongi is your mom’s cross-stitch project of a teddy bear that she hung up in your room one day when you were in school that you never took off by the time you came home. He’s a dent at the corner of your gate that could’ve only been made by Namjoon when he was practicing his soccer skills. He’s a Snellen chart that nobody really uses, stuck to the side of the refrigerator that you walk past.

Yoongi’s here, there, and everywhere, but you don’t question it. He’s simply there in your orbit and even if he exists, you don’t follow up on him.

You stay quiet at the talks of the sleeping situation because it turns out that Yoongi’s family had long sold their house. You never knew that throughout the several times you came down to visit.

Frankly, you’re relieved to barely know anything about Yoongi these days.

“You and Haneul can take my room,” you half-heartedly offer, not because it’s Yoongi who tugs at your heartstrings and demands your pity, but his child instead. The two, three (?) year-old baby (read: you’re too hesitant to ask what his age is because if it’s anything higher, then that meant Yoongi had moved on earlier than you did) you didn’t even know existed because you’ve completely cut off Yoongi from your life and refused to listen to Namjoon every time he talked about him, will be sleeping in your room; it just happens that he’s with his dad.

Yoongi’s awed at your preposition but he’s even more worried. He can’t tell a single thought that’s going on behind your eyes nor a single hint behind your tone. You’re formal; neutral. You’re detached even when you utter Haneul’s name and gesture them to your bedroom as if he hasn’t spent years and years of his life in your home.

“Where will you sleep?” he furrows his brows, his hand that had been rubbing circles on Haneul’s back faltering.

He’s asking because he doesn’t know anything about you at this point. He can’t tell if it’s the indigestion he has from resisting to talk your ear off at the dining table (like he’s always did when you were young) because you barely even spoke to him, or if it’s the overwhelming feeling of being back home with everything feeling familiar but you — either way, Yoongi thinks he’s gonna be sick.

“I’ll sleep at my mom’s,” you purse your lips, leaving him at that.

Between the yearning, demanding looks you get from Yoongi, the nosy and concerned glances from Namjoon, and even the guilt that you get from keeping all of your emotions from your mom when you used to confide in her religiously when you were younger — you’re drained. The urge to wash off all your anxiety can’t be done in your childhood home’s small bathroom. You can’t with the faulty water heater (you have to keep one finger pressed on the button at all times to keep it running) because you can’t even cry in peace under the either scorching or freezing water.

You can’t evade everything by grabbing a drink from the fridge that runs loudly as if it’s excavating oil from underneath your floors. You can’t curl up on the couch that’s become worn with age because there’s dents of you and Yoongi, the only two people who had sat on it the most every late night for years on end. You can’t romanticize any of the things in your home that have brought you joy all your life at this point in time.

To sleep under the same roof with your mother and brother again after so long feels foreign. It’s a language you can perceive but can’t translate and the frustration that comes with it seeps into your bones. There must be some common ground between the three of you; it should be anything and everything. With Namjoon being a world-renowned football player and you being somewhat accomplished and decorated in your field, you’ve managed to retire your mom early.

The three of you are doing fine. Not one interaction in the past five years has ever felt this tense and unfamiliar, but if you could pick just the odd one out, the very reason why you feel like falling to the floor and crawling your way out of your own home because you feel like you don’t belong to it — it’s Yoongi.

You feel awkward in your own four walls, whereas Yoongi finds your nightlight that you keep tucked in your closet without breaking a sweat.

Namjoon tugs you right when you’re about to call it a day in your mom’s room, his hushed whispers taking you back to when he pleaded for you not to rat them out whenever he and Yoongi crashed at the couch drunk.

“Give them this,” he shoves the can of bug spray into your hands, your immediate reaction making him wrestle with you just to push you closer to your own bedroom.

“No, Joon. You give it.”

“Y/N, no. You give it,” he whines, purposely having given Yoongi extra sheets and blankets earlier without the bug spray so you’d have something to take to him.

“I don’t wanna see Yoongi,” you whisper, trying to pathetically regain your footing even if you know your attempts go futile against an athlete for a brother.

“You think I don’t know that?” he snarks, giving you one last shove with a stern finger. “We’re gonna talk about whatever the hell happened between you and him, but right now, you’re gonna offer him bug spray like the gracious hosts that we are!”

You crash too far to your door that it could be mistaken as a knock, making you hiss because you know you can’t retract it. You actually knock this time, being met with nothing but a quiet Yoongi behind your own door.

Even when he opens it fully, even when it’s your own room — you enter hesitantly.

Yoongi’s already made a home out of your room. He knew where your nightlight was, knew which good extension cord (that didn’t spark every time it shifted) to plug into the wall, and even knew where you kept the magazine that you had to wedge between your windows whenever they didn’t fully close.

“Namjoon told me to give you this,” you put your hand out, looking at everything but Yoongi. You could look at Haneul who’s sprawled in the middle of the bed, but it isn’t any different than looking at his dad himself.

Yoongi, on the other hand, can’t see anything but you. He feels like an intruder who just happened to know the confines of your life almost better than his own, holding bug spray and the remainder of whatever recognition you have left for him.

“Will we ever be alright?” he whispers, not for the sake of keeping Haneul asleep, but for the sake of his sanity. If he makes his voice any louder, he’ll spill all his grievances and question if he had ever meant anything to you.

“We’ve always been alright,” you smile tightly, wrapping your hands around your back.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he pleads, swallowing the lump in his throat. “When did you ever give me bug spray? When did you have to knock on my door, o-or when did you ever have to treat me like I’m some guest and not a huge part of your life?” Yoongi stumbles over his words, correcting himself with a huff. “Most of your life.”

The sarcasm that coats the last of his words makes you twitch, the clench in your jaw being unmistakeable. Yoongi almost forgot what you looked like whenever you argued with him — talked to him, even. “Why are you only bitching about this to me and not to Namjoon? He’s the one who told me to give you the bug spray.”

“This is not about the bug spray!”

“What is it about then? Is this, is this some sort of long-winded euphemism that involves bug spray? What is it Yoongi, are you gonna hound me for an essay about it?” you spit, exhaling heavily. Haneul twitches in his sleep from the corner of your eye. “You grew up and so did I.”

Yoongi flinches like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t do this to me, kid. Don’t do this to us.”

You flinch because anything is better than to have him dig up his old nickname for you as if he’s close; as if he’s still the Yoongi that you chased, as if you’re still the Y/N he looked out for.

“Don’t call me that.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi’s in the kitchen with your mom.

He looks domestic this way, hair tousled and pajamas loose. Even if you have unbridled internet access (courtesy of the high-speed package you split with Namjoon for your mom even if the most she does online is repost motivational quotes, reels of Namjoon and his team, and clips of Jungkook where you’re seen), you can’t muster the courage to search Yoongi’s name and what he’s made of himself.

You’re too scared to search up articles about his success as a producer because if you do, you’re terrified by the thought of accidentally clicking a link that leads you to a page of him and his ex-wife.

You’re too weak to search up the songs he’s had a hand in (that is if you hadn’t heard them before) because you fear that if you even listen for a single second, you might hear how perfect his life has been ever since he left behind everything that he’s ever known.

Even now, you’re too uneasy at the sight of him. He’s in your home and he looks like the version of himself that had never left. The Yoongi in front of you, sitting on your seat at the dining table and peeling tangerines with your mom, resembles the Yoongi that would top off your glass with water whenever you ate with him.

It’s as if you’ve always been in touch for the past five years; it’s as if Yoongi has never aged and you never drifted apart.

“You’re awake,” he remarks, greeting you first before your mom could even register your presence.

“You’re still here,” you reply, the exhale that leaves you making you deflate in reflection. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, but Yoongi’s already slid over a plate to you.

“There. Just how you like them.”

There’s tangerines with barely any pith on them, and iced tea that had more ice cubes in them than there are in the freezer.

Yoongi smiles at you like you’re the old you again; the one who is more forgiving, and the one who is more hopeful.

( ♡ )

If it wasn’t for your brother guilt-tripping you into joining the impromptu road trip, you never would have come.

You didn’t want to come with them in the first place because the very thought of hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi like old times, this time with the addition of the latter’s son, was too close; too familial. The three already knew each other and had kept in touch and you’re the odd one out. You’re the only planet out of the system and once you’ve come to think of it, that bit of their galaxy never failed. Whether you were in it or not didn’t matter — atleast that’s what you thought.

Yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you’ve heard nothing about it.

You blocked his number and on every social media account he had to his name. Even with Namjoon as a prominent variable, you’re amazed to how you’ve heard little to nothing about Yoongi ever since he left your hometown. You still talked to your brother, of course, but there was an obvious difference to how your conversations went because none of them ever went to Yoongi.

You didn’t tell him to not talk about Yoongi at all. You didn’t instruct him to never utter a single word about his closest friend whom you also grew up with. You never told Namjoon anything concerning Yoongi and what unfolded between the two of you before you left, and yet, it’s almost as if he had already been in your mind and knew exactly what to do.

You’ve come to realize that the prospect of growing up never used to be in your cards. The whole concept of it sat at the very back of your mind, the only times you used to pay attention to it being whenever Yoongi picked at your brain.

You thought your world would have ended when you were 19. You didn’t think you would grow up and see past high school. You didn’t think you would finish college, much less pick a degree to pursue in the first place. You didn’t think of having a future — you didn’t think you’d be living it now in this way.

“Joon,” you mutter, voice barely being heard at the expanse of the balcony you’re in. It’s his balcony in his vacation house he barely stays in, overlooking the waves by the beach he isn’t even that fond of to begin with.

Yoongi and Haneul are already asleep, the father-son duo knocking out way ahead than everyone else. They stayed with the two of you in the balcony hours ago, the bug spray in both the adult and kid edition being proof of it.

Tonight, alone, felt different. It’s as if the younger version of you was gazing out to what was supposed to be your future, except neither the past nor present variant of you could have ever had it for yourself.

“Hm?” he hums, sipping the last of his drink while he’s sat at the far end. You know about each other’s presence, and while years ago, the two of you would’ve been giddy staying in a house as grand as this whilst drinking behind your mom’s back, you and Namjoon grew up. You didn’t fight or anything — you simply grew up and grew apart.

“I never said it before, but thank you,” you exhale, clenching Haneul’s towel as you try to warm your hands. You may have spent the better part of the day not even acknowledging his dad, but you did fawn over him like you would with any other child. “Thank you for not telling me a thing about Yoongi.”

“You’re welcome,” Namjoon finally speaks as soon as he grasps what you were talking about, the smile on his face only lasting for a second. “If it were up to me though, I would have told you everything.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you, hm?” you laugh uneasily, running your hand through your hair. You didn’t know how much you had to be grateful for until Yoongi came back and reminded you of how little you knew about him.

Namjoon breathlessly laughs, looking up at the sky to try and condense everything that has happened through his words before you leave again. “I would have told you that he confessed what happened that time you ran away from home a couple years back, and I beat his ass. We didn’t talk for like, I don’t know, three months? Even when I was still training in the US that time.”

Your lack of a reply is what makes him take notice, the stunned look you have on your face making him snort.

“What?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he throws a stray bottle cap at you. “Why are you so shocked? I love him like a brother, but you’re my actual sister,” he confides his loyalty to you, yet you don’t even have a second to express your awe before he opens his mouth again. “I would have told you that I became the best man at his wedding. Even mom was there.”

“You can stop telling me these things now.”

Namjoon exhales, already feeling deep in his chest that you’re gearing up to leave. He wants to get the last word in, not to prove himself, but to try and vindicate you and the quiet suffering you endured without telling anyone.

“I would have told you that Yoongi kept trying to come back to you.”

( ♡ )

Haneul wakes up before Yoongi does.

You’re confused for a second because the moment you hear the lightest footsteps that you ever could pad along the kitchen, you become completely disoriented. There’s a child that looks like Yoongi, wandering off to where you are.

For the briefest second, your heart drops because the whole situation resembles a vignette. In another lifetime, it could’ve been your child, your Haneul, waking up before his dad, trudging to the kitchen where you are is if you’re his mom.

He’s an observant kid, far too trusting unlike his dad who used to scold you to hell and back for even entertaining strangers that asked you for directions. He’s friendly to you; to someone Yoongi had introduced as appa’s close friend. There isn’t even a single hint in how he introduced you to Haneul that the two of you stopped being close. Yoongi didn’t leave the faintest indicator to him that you most probably hated his guts and would probably choose a lifetime where he hadn’t even been in your life at all.

Haneul is innocent to yours and Yoongi’s history and it’s going to stay that way. You don’t meant to change whatever he introduced you as because by the time your mom’s birthday week is over, or by the time Yoongi takes the hint and leaves your hometown again, you would be a fleeting persona in Haneul’s life.

You’re not his mom. You’re not anyone of significance to either him and his dad.

“Good morning,” he greets shyly, his diction telling of how just attentive Yoongi is as a dad. You mostly listened to whatever Namjoon told you last night anyway, tuning out the parts where he rounded to how Yoongi had been miserable not having any contact with you (you don’t believe that at all), and instead zeroing in on the large details that you’ve missed. “Auntie.”

You smile tightly, patting the empty seat beside to you to which he climbs effortlessly.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you do know him. You know that his dad is a doting, slightly paranoid one whose current dilemma is whether or not enrolling him in kindergarten early or waiting for one more year. You know that Yoongi doesn’t want him to know about the existence of iPads for probably ever, so he spends almost every waking moment talking to him to the point that Haneul’s eloquent at speaking for his age. You also know that Namjoon’s his godfather, and that he had looked after him for a whole day by himself when Yoongi went to settle his divorce.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you know his parents. You know Yoongi is his dad, and more importantly, that Hyewon is his mom — the same Hyewon who had been with him in your room before, and the same woman Yoongi shared his success with when he made it big.

“Hi,” you greet him softly, handing him his bottle for him to drink from. It’s a warm, domestic vignette for a split second. You’ve watched Yoongi far too many times at the corner of your eye to know where he gets the distilled water. “Why are you up already?”

“Uncle Joonie promised yesterday we can watch the sunrise together,” he says in between sips, letting you comb his hair into order unconsciously. You didn’t even think of it before your hand sweeps the strands scattered on his forehead, the hum you have at the back of your throat pausing when you realized what you’ve done.

“He’s still sleeping right now. He had uh, a long night,” you mutter, at a loss for a child-friendly alternative word for hangover. You keep your hands to yourself because you fear falling into the domesticity that isn’t yours to relax into; if you think about it for a second longer, you’d think that Haneul is yours and Yoongi is the final piece to your puzzle.

“Oh. But I, I wanna watch,” Haneul frowns, brows softly furrowed at your revelation. He’s not close to throwing a tantrum, but the upset expression on his face keeps tugging at your heart to cave.

“You can take your dad with you,” you offer, willing to knock on Yoongi’s door if it meant his son smiling again.

Haneul shakes his head at that, looking up at the ceiling as he recalls the events of last night before being tucked in. “Nuh-uh. Appa had a long night too. He just kept crying.”

A part of you wishes that Haneul didn’t speak so clearly.

“What?” you clarify, heart skipping a beat the more you replay his words in your head.

“Crying?” Haneul repeats, tilting his head as he tries to figure you out. He says it again for a third time as if you needed any clarification of the word and not because of your disbelief that his dad was capable of it. “Like this,” he adds, pretending to bawl with his hands wiping at his eyes.

The scene before you is your brief moment of reprieve, making you chuckle breathlessly as you try to regain your senses. Whether or not Haneul was sure of what he was saying, if Yoongi had cried, it’s most probably not because of anything that has to do with you.

“Oh. So that’s what it means. Thank you, Haneul,” you laugh lowly, patting him on the head until you retract your hand again in realization.

Haneul thinks nothing of your trepidation; he thinks nothing of the yearning behind your eyes, and thinks nothing of the tremble in your voice.

“Can we watch the sunrise together?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as if doing so would be the equivalent of hanging the stars up for him in the sky.

(Read: it probably is, and in another lifetime, or in the far-shot that it happens in this one, you’d do it if he asks you to do so.)

You want to ask Haneul why it’s you who he wants to accompany him, but you don’t. You can wake up either Yoongi and Namjoon to go with him instead, but you won’t.

In another lifetime, this would have been your son, your Haneul asking to watch the sunrise with you. There’s a Yoongi-shaped hole and a Haneul-shaped vacancy in your chest, but you don’t prod about it further.

You don’t question what’s happening, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny part of you that wants to fully accept it instead of hesitating to do so.

“Okay.”

Haneul puts his hand in yours, but you don’t pull away. You just hold him tighter.

( ♡ )

A large part of you forgot that for as long as Yoongi’s here, he’ll treat every interaction you have with Namjoon as an open invitation for him. He had always been this way; for as long as you could remember, he’ll include himself even if he isn’t needed nor wanted.

You can’t count the amount of times your mom had berated Namjoon for something and oddly enough, Yoongi also happened to be there. Whether it was to rat out on his own best friend or being at the receiving end of said scolding, Yoongi jumped at every opportunity to come along as a package deal.

When you asked Namjoon to drink with you at the balcony two days ago, Yoongi butted in and asked what brand of alcohol he should buy you at the convenience store. When you were on the way home and asked your brother what he wanted from the rest stop, Yoongi said he wanted the biggest can of coffee you could find.

And when you asked Namjoon what time you should come to the stadium to watch him practice, Yoongi said he’ll pack you an extra cap while Haneul bonded with your mom.

Sometime long ago, you and Yoongi saw each other eye to eye. You can’t determine when and how exactly, but there was a point in your life where everything you had to say to each other was what the other was thinking all along. Nowadays, you can’t even look at Yoongi in the eye while all he wanted was for you to return his gaze.

If there’s just one thing though, one single variable that remained unchanged between the two of you, it would be Namjoon.

The way Yoongi engages you in conversation this time around is not to trap you and to ramp himself up to apologize again, but purely, it’s to talk about your brother. Namjoon’s a lot of things, and one thing you pray would remain unchanged is the love you have for each other.

“Who would have thought, right?” Yoongi nudges, asking you sincerely. “Who would have thought that the Namjoon who had knockoff cleats years ago would become this world-famous athlete?” he chuckles, shaking his head as he once again tries to digest the fact that this very stadium in your hometown had been built and refashioned in his honor.

You laugh genuinely, the sound being the first he’s ever heard in such a long time.

“Abibas.”

Yoongi has his lips parted, shocked that you were even answering him.

“Abibas. That was the brand of his knockoff cleats,” you chuckle, bowing your head as you try to contain your laughter. “He could’ve bought the original with his allowance and everything, but he split it so he could also buy me knockoffs.”

Yoongi laughs at the memory you jog up in his mind, remembering distinctly how Namjoon kept asking for his opinion repeatedly on which colorway of the knockoff pair he should gift you.

Even if things are still tense between you, even if Namjoon is the only salvation that Yoongi could bring up in a conversation to which you don’t run from, nothing from the past five years could ever take this moment away from you.

The three of you have grown up. Some faster than they’d like, and some because they had no choice but to — nonetheless, in this moment, it’s the three of you back at home like it used to be.

“Namjoon was always meant for greatness. Even from the start,” you murmur, your attention waiting on Yoongi’s response even if your eyes were on Namjoon in the field.

“You are too,” he interjects quickly, voice defensive at the lack of your name to your own sentence.

“No I’m not,” you snort, crossing your arms. You’re not angry when you say it; in fact, you’re calm as if you’ve always seen it coming. “You told me I’d amount to nothing.”

You’re calm, seemingly at peace with what you just said and what Yoongi had ingrained in your head before, but he’s the furthest thing from it. His mouth hangs open, chest tightening impossibly as he shakes his head eagerly.

“I never said that!”

You’re about to counter him when you hear a familiar holler reach you at the lower section of the bleachers, eyes perking to see a familiar figure who isn’t blood-related to you.

“Y/N!” Jimin runs up to you faster than to whenever he passes the ball to Namjoon, engulfing you in a massive hug that forces you up to your feet before you know it.

“Oh my god, Jimin! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” you awe at the sight of him, unwilling to break away from the embrace until he does so. It’s been ages since you’ve seen him, the second-best player in the team (you’re biased because of course Namjoon had been the best player to you since you were kids) being the closest member to you out of everyone.

Jimin doesn’t care for Yoongi. He knows of the guy and he doesn’t want to know any more than he already does. He doesn’t even acknowledge the guy’s presence; all he does is squeeze you tighter and twirl you briefly in his arms.

“Fuck, me neither. Heaven must’ve healed my ankle quicker so I could come here and see you,” he flirts playfully, earning a well-deserved eye roll from you.

“And you know, play for Korea.”

“Eh. That too, I guess,” he shrugs, sitting at the seat beside you. He looks straight at you and only you — Jimin only pauses to snort to himself when he notices that Yoongi’s squirming in his seat, beyond annoyed and frustrated.

( ♡ )

On the fifth day of Yoongi staying over at your house, there’s a power outage.

The sound of everything shutting off together in sync makes you jolt, the collective groan you hear outside from the neighborhood comforting you in solidarity.

You can only make out a grunt from Namjoon and a gasp from your mom until you hear the trembling voice of Haneul, the sound of a cry that crawls up his throat putting everyone on their feet.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay! It’s just a little dark, that’s all,” Yoongi pipes up instantly, scooping him up in his arms without having to fumble for where he is because he could practically locate his son in his sleep.

You didn’t want for it to be a power outage, but oddly enough, you feel sorry that it happened while you’re here. “It’s okay, Haneul,” you whisper as consolation, the dark of the night shielding you from how Yoongi’s eyes widen at your cooing for his son. “Mom, where did you put that generator I got you?”

“About that,” she sheepishly shrugs, turning on her phone to illuminate her shyness. “I donated it last year to the public school nearby.”

“It’s gonna get so hot,” Namjoon groans, the sound of him clumsily feeling around for the lights alerting Haneul briefly. He comforts him instantly, finally turning on the torch in his phone instead of relying on his instincts. “Don’t cry, Haneul, alright? Uncle Joonie’s gonna get the candles and the flashlights.”

“I’ll go try to find a guy,” you get up as soon as Namjoon hands you a flashlight, your contribution to help instantly being shut down.

“You can’t just try to find a guy, Y/N. That’s dangerous,” Yoongi scoffs, putting a hand on your forearm to pull you.

“I meant on my phone, Yoongi,” you grit. “I was gonna go outside to try and look for a signal.”

“That’s still dangerous,” he narrows his eyes at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Give me a break,” you mutter, removing his hold from you. You’d save your pride and actually go outside if not for your mom interjecting that she knows an electrician from her contacts.

Namjoon comes back after his quest for battery-powered fans and flashlights, unaware of how Yoongi’s protective streak for you practically never disappeared; in fact, it came back twofold. “Whole neighborhood’s out. Must be a broken transformer or something.”

Your mom consoles Haneul in her arms.

Namjoon waits by the gate for the electrician.

You and Yoongi clean the fridge up before anything spoils.

In between getting food out and embracing Haneul every now and then who insisted on obediently sitting atop the counter so he’s closer to his dad, Yoongi holds your hand.

“That’s my hand that you’re holding,” you murmur, assuming that he had mistaken yours for Haneul’s as he’s always chuckled how yours always seemed to be small against his.

Yoongi only hums.

“I know.”

( ♡ )

You’re falling back into your old routine.

Maybe it’s how your mom has to shake you awake because otherwise, you’d sleep through the afternoon and would therefore be unable to sleep through the night. On the other hand, it could be Namjoon who either hounds you to hang out with him or tell you off for clinging to him too much.

Maybe, it’s just Yoongi. It’s him who’s tricking your brain into thinking that has nothing changed with the way he keeps peeling fruits for you and telling you to be safe even if you’re only buying ice cream from the convenience store.

It’s only been a week and a half of almost normalcy, save for the fact that there are certain things and connections you can neither reverse nor rekindle.

You’re convinced, almost fully convinced that history is repeating itself except for the bitter, ugly parts of it that you never want to pop in your head again.

Like the past, Namjoon blocks you for whatever reason in his head but this time he does it to you while you’re on the way to your room, on the quest to retrieve your charger for your phone that you barely even used for work purposes.

“It’s my room. Why can’t I go in my room?” you furrow your brows at him, your amusement turning into annoyance the more that Namjoon pushed you with actual strength instead of playfulness.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner,” he changes the subject quickly, turning you towards the stairs.

You shouldn’t have questioned him further — you should’ve left it at that.

“I guess? I’ll just get my purse,” you concede, dodging his attempts to haul you downstairs.

“I’ll pay,” Namjoon insists and although it’s not out of the blue for him, his franticness is what keeps you on edge.

“I still need my-…” you counter, being interrupted when he holds you firmly as you attempt to walk towards your door. Namjoon grips you with a silent plead, one that you can’t even decipher. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

You finally break off his grip at once, walking into your room with a renowned determination.

It’s not only your routine that falls back into place, but it’s your whole worldview that does.

Love is terribly human. It’s a loose thread on your shirt that gets snagged on your doorknob. It’s a coat in your closet waiting to be worn for the supposed perfect time, and when you do, you realize that it no longer fits you.

Love is terribly human, and it is terribly Yoongi, Hyewon, and Haneul.

Love is terribly human and fragile, and it’s Yoongi, Hyewon, and their son sleeping on your bed.

[kentopedia]

ᡣ𐭩 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 . . . the french are glad to die for love

after a night performing, you meet with the duke, but he's not anything like you'd been expecting.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. ft. sanji ! f!reader, moulin rouge au, alcohol, smoking, romance, prostitution, burlesque/cabaret dancers, humor, very very brief mention of suicidal ideation, suggestive content. 8.7k words.

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, i'm very nervous to post this so pls be kind to me ‪‪❤︎‬ if you aren't familiar with moulin rouge, the writing's a bit silly / eccentric at times, which is a little outside my comfort zone. so if you hate it... say nothing lol ><

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 .˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈 .˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

Paris was the city of lovers, as they said. Romantic and doused in shades of red, painted with hearts for stars and a dazzling galaxy complete of past romances. 

Red, yes, was the color of Paris. But it came from not from dalliances, but from blood and tears, the scarlet hues mixed in shades of pain and misfortune. Nothing you had expected when you’d first stepped foot in the city with a half-developed mind, just off the boat from your own country. You’d had a suitcase filled with your finest clothes, which truly weren’t much, and a few necessities. But you’d been leaving from nothing, and you’d go on to have nothing, finding yourself in yet another desperate situation. 

In the wake of revolutions, Paris was supposed to be a place of rebirth, to start fresh and finally live out your dream as an actress. But things never turned out the way they were planned — such had been the case since the beginning of time. 

Instead of finding your way into the Palais Garnier, on the stage in beautiful velvet gowns, laced with glittering diamonds and rubies, you found yourself on the streets, singing for anyone who would listen. Then, you were acquired by a man who promised you a life of luxury and an opportunity to be a star. 

And who were you to refuse such an offer? 

Thus concluding the simple, albeit melancholy tale of how you found yourself at the Moulin Rouge, part-time singer, part-time dancer, and full-time actor. A cliché story of ambition and lost dreams, of aspirations that had never come to fruition.

Still, you had your moments of stepping into the role of the glittering ruby, the dazzling diamond. There were even times when you felt that, maybe, you were shaping up to be the prima donna you’d dreamed of becoming. That you had already taken that role on and made it your own, not in a golden opera house, but on a stage of darker colors, crafted for those that crept in the shadows, rather than the heavens. 

But what being an actor at the Moulin Rouge meant was forgetting what it was to be yourself. Each evening, you put on a mask of beauty that you didn’t feel to your core, shrouded in cheap jewels that had become meaningless in the face of giving up your real dream. No matter how many times you told yourself this was right, a stepping stone to the path of greatness, it still felt like a lie.

But the years carried on, and the pain subsided. You got used to the sharpened eyes of hungry men, of people that would never want you for any longer than an evening. They were charming, sure, and they paid a pretty penny for a night — if you were willing to give it to them. 

It was enough. It had to be. 

Things weren’t so bad, you supposed. You’d left your home like you’d always planned to, even while this shapeless existence was hardly any better.

Still, returning to your house of cards, of rags and dirtied floors, seemed like an even bigger failure. Perhaps not to your family, who would’ve deemed your life as a courtesan the greatest shame of them all. To you, though, the greatest shame would have been to admit that you were wrong. 

Your fifth year of working at the Moulin Rouge set into motion the beginning of the end. There was nothing different about the evening that tipped the first domino… Not that you could recall, at least. 

As always, an array of stars glittered over Montmartre, a beautiful Parisian night, lit up with red. From the streets, the Moulin Rouge glowed like a beacon, combating even the loveliest parts of the French skyline, outlandishly bright, but mystical all the same. It wasn’t often that you saw the outside of the cabaret, not the way your patrons did. Sometimes, you wondered what it was like for them, to walk in for the first time and see the beautiful stars, dancing just for them on the candlelit stage. 

The very stage you were soon to find yourself on.

A necklace of rubies — undoubtably fake — hung heavy on your chest, weighing you down just like a cough in your lungs did. From beyond your four walls, you could hear the crowd that had formed in the intimate hall, already wet with anticipation of the dancers. And while some, perhaps, were doubtful, here for the first time, you knew they would leave with an itch to return, if only to see the star of the Moulin Rouge.

You.

Staring into the mirror, you listened to the heels of your friends click across the stage, getting into position for their first number. It was comforting, almost, how the simple sound was there for your every night, alerting you of just how much time you had before your final act. 

You smeared rouge across your cheeks, sporting a grim smile, and made sure the color was bright enough to combat the lights that would illuminate you. 

Then, you inhaled, and stood from your chair, to get dressed before your number began. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t get far, already crowded by the chest of your keeper, the flashy owner of the Moulin Rouge. Buggy. 

He was dressed as he always was — to the nines, and impeccably lively. Much livelier than you would ever be outside of the glittering nightclub. Sometimes, you wondered just how much of his persona was an act, and how much of it was every bit the extravagance he’d been born with.

“There’s my star,” Buggy said, dragging a finger across your cheek, eyes lit up by his pale makeup. “I’ve been looking for you.” Your name left his lips cheerfully, and you smiled, thinly plastering on enthusiasm. 

“Well,” you answered, batting your eyelashes heavily. “Here I am. Where I’ve been for the past five years, every night, at this very time.”

He threw an arm over your shoulder as he always did, like the two of you were old friends, and the air of professionalism you tried to keep between you was needless. “Yes, yes,” he responded, waving off the slight bit of sarcasm. “Listen. I have a manner of business to discuss.” 

Your smile quickly fell. You knew what that meant. “Buggy,” you said, unreeling yourself from his embrace, his hot palm dropping from your shoulders. “It’s hardly been a day since the last one. You promised me I wouldn’t have to take on any more.” 

Not that you’d believed him when he’d said that, but… There were only so many men you were willing to seduce, especially when the other dancers would have gladly accepted the work. You weren’t the only courtesan at the club, and just because you were the star, didn't mean you would put the others out of a job. 

“I did, I did, and I’ll keep that promise… After this last time.” Buggy’s words were on the edge of charisma, but they weren’t able to reach that delivery. Full of a dramatic flair, sure, but nothing further. His smile was thin, desperate, and though you wanted to ask his true intentions about this particular meeting, you wouldn’t. You already knew the answer.

You held his gaze sharply, eyes narrowing before you relented, a heavy sigh leaving your lungs. 

There had been talk about the finances, only recently, and just through the grapevine. Claims that the Moulin Rouge was going bankrupt, and there was only one person with enough beauty and charm to save it.

A heavy burden to bear, indeed.

And while you were hopeful, devastatingly so, that the claims weren’t true, you weren’t blind to the dwindling waitstaff, the decreasingly lavish decorations. One of your dancers had even left in the last week, a young girl who didn’t bring much to the table, but didn’t deserve to be tossed back onto the streets either. 

You’d be a fool not to notice that there was trouble… Trouble Buggy had convinced you not to worry about, but that concerned you all the same. 

With a frown, you bowed your gaze, then perked back up with a smile. As if holding a tiara high on your head, you straightened, erasing the depressing dimness from your eyes, hoping you shone as brightly as he wanted you to. “Alright,” you hummed, softening your voice, “What do I need to do?” 

Buggy grinned, face revealing perfect showmanship, and pinched your cheek. “There’s my star.” 

The man you were to seduce on the stage tonight was a duke. 

He wasn’t from Paris, wasn’t from France at all, but instead, from some intriguing land further East, hailing a vast amount of wealth and a large wallet that could easily bankroll the entire nightclub. Salaries, performances, food and so on. That alone told you all you needed to know. 

Just one night. That would be enough to convince him that you were a dazzling diamond, and you deserved a place on the stage. A different stage. It would be enough to get him to put his money on the table, entranced enough by the energy of the evening to invest in the Moulin Rouge. Enough to intrigue him, even if he was a difficult man to please. 

One night might not turn out be just one, you knew that. But you’d do anything, anything it took to achieve you dreams. Not just for yourself, not for Buggy… but for all of the others that you called your friends. You deserved an opportunity to be a real actress, and they deserved a place to live, a place to work. 

Besides, you were getting older, already closer to thirty than your early teenage years, and those of the underworld did not want an aged woman, so much as they sought the delicate features of a barely turned adult. It was a disgusting, filthy world you lived in, but it kept you alive, and sometimes, that was all you could ask for. 

“Remember,” Buggy’s words echoed in your ears, sharp and desperate to be heard, even over the drowning noises of the orchestra. “He’ll be in the back booth. There’s a group of men with him, they’ll all have drinks. Just catch his eye, sometime during the dance. But don’t worry too much about that, otherwise you’ll lose your focus.” 

What you got from that was: You should try extra hard to catch the eye of an impressive man, but you should not seem like you were trying at all. 

A somewhat daunting task, but it would be simple enough. There hadn't been a man yet at the Moulin Rouge who hadn’t stumbled over himself when you gave him your brilliant smile.

You breathed, a deep inhale that cleared out the anxiety lingering in your chest. Then, you blew it out, and the curtain rose, blinding you with overwhelming yellows and reds from the lights, ones that ignited the jewels on your neck, outlining your chest, drawing everyone’s attention to you.

It was hard to see anything at all, but you could feel all their eyes on you — a hundred or so pairs that scoured you like a piece of meat.

And when you got to the floor, close enough that you could feel the hot breaths of your favorite clients, they threw bills at you until you could no longer hold them in the tight lines of your bodice. 

You smiled at every individual like you’d never smile at anyone again, patted their cheeks until they passed out with red, swooning faces. Then you left them, still reeling from your touch, eyes glued to you with the focus of a tortured scholar.

Performing had always been a rush to you, left you lively and with an energy that you’d never found in anything else. But sometimes, performing like this, exploiting no one but yourself and your magnetic charm, left you empty at the end of the day. You left the stage cold, drained of every ounce of warmth that had been dragged into you from the spotlight. 

It was invigorating to be wanted, but it could never compete with the crushing loneliness that came with being used.

And that warmth you got from the stage, the rush of devotion and adrenaline that came with incessant adoration? Well, you’d never felt anything like that, never been able to replicate it either, until a set of eyes landed on you from a distant booth, where the Duke was said to be sitting. 

You felt the heat before you saw him, the candy-red color of desire bleeding into you. It dragged across your back, digging into your shoulder-blades like a needle, piercing, but only lightly. There was something soft around the harsh edges of want, and when you turned to meet that stark desire, you almost faltered in surprise. 

He wasn’t what you’d been expecting.

Just as Buggy had said, the corner-most booth held a man, surrounded by many others. The table was littered with glasses — both empty and full of alcohol, and a cloud of smoke hovered around them. All of the men leaned over the table, eyeing you with awe-struck eyes, as you sparingly gave them your sweetest smile. 

But it was the innermost man that you honed in on, one being jostled around by the wealthy others in his booth. Blonde, blue eyes alight with a conflicted sort of desire, wearing a suit tailored to fit him perfectly. 

The Duke. 

Allegedly. 

From what you’d been told, there were enough clues to convince you that this dazzled man was the one you were looking for. Surrounding him were older patrons, ones that were familiar with Buggy, and nearly all of the dancers. Rich men that would have gladly accompanied a foreign noble, shown him the beauty of Montmartre before the sun rose and they were back to respectable conversation. 

Yet, he seemed… 

Well, he didn’t seem very lordly. 

That, though, was not a question you wanted to linger on for too long. Your mind would spin into uncertainties, and you would fuck this up before you could fuck him. 

Instead, you sharpened your smile, lowered your eyes seductively, and continued your performance, painting more attention onto that side of the room. 

Which raised another red flag that you were all too happy to ignore. Far opposite of what Buggy had sad, the duke did not seem like a difficult man to please. Rather, all you could think was that he would be an easy catch, with the way his cigarette dangled from his lips, parted in awe. His irises might as well have shaped into hearts as he watched you, tracing your every movement without so much as blinking. 

You brightened. For some reason, his adoration gave you much greater satisfaction than you would have liked to admit. 

Riding on the elation that your prey, the source of your future, was in the palm of your hand, you wrapped up the rest of your performance perfectly, tying it up with a beautiful scarlet ribbon. Buggy was standing on the edge of the stage as you made your way down, bowing dramatically, knowing that you had succeeded in every goal he’d set for you. 

“Do you think I lured him in?” you asked softly, accepting the robe given to you by one of the stage-hands, a man just on the cusp of his twenties. 

Buggy smiled, his red-painted lips spreading across crooked teeth. “I don’t call you the diamond for nothing, do I, my dear?” he said, pinching your cheek. 

The rouge came off between his fingers, and your eyebrows crinkled, before releasing, as you remembered all the ways you could keep yourself from looking older. You swatted your friend-not-friend’s hand away before wrapping yourself tighter in the robe, feeling so much smaller and younger than you truly were. 

Despite all the men you’d taken to bed, all the nights you’d shared in throes of passion (their’s, of course, never your own), you still felt the scared, hardly-adult you’d been when you first set foot in Paris. 

Buggy noticed the change in your demeanor, as you tried to gear yourself up for an encounter with the Duke. The charming, blonde noble seemed kind enough, softer around the edges than many of the men you’d seduced over the years. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. 

Never, though, would it be something that you wanted to do.

“What’s the matter, my gem?” Buggy asked, not quite in a way that was kind, but enough to show concern. His eyes were gentler than the rest of his appearance, and you weren’t sure you were grateful for it.

You curled away from his hands, sniffing back the onslaught of doubt and self-loathing that always came upon you when you used your body in such a way. It was something that you’d been taught to feel disgusted by, even though it kept a roof over your head, and the heads of the people that you’d come to call your family. 

“It’s nothing,” you said, because it was the truth. It was nothing new. The same blur of feelings that had haunted you since the first day you’d sold yourself to another still lingered. You’d always thought it would get easier… but it hadn’t. It still ended with you wanting to tear your skin from your body, but never following through with a slide of poison down your throat. 

Because that was the easy way, wasn’t it? A quick way to end your torment, without knowing if you’d ever see the other side. And, perhaps you weren’t as brave as you wanted to believe, but you wanted to see if there was another side. If there was a brighter end, a brighter future, where you could shine on the stage of the Palais Garnier as a real actress, and not just in the glittering scarlet lights of the Moulin Rouge. 

Buggy eyed you skeptically, any kindness in his irises now gone as his lips turned into a thin line. “It better be nothing,” he said, guiding you across the stage, before reaching a doorway that would send you up into the Elephant Room.

Which was the most private area of the Moulin Rouge, one saved for the most illicit affairs. It was your room, and only those patrons that were willing to pay the highest price were allowed entry. 

“Remember, I’ll send him up to you, and all you have to do is give him a night he won’t forget, alright?” Buggy stood in front of you, gripping your shoulders in a warning. “Now, show me that dazzling smile, diamond.”

Reluctantly, but with all the passion you had gathered in your chest, you smiled, knowing that it was real enough to set something alight in his own. The reaction — just a small quirk of his lips in return — was enough to let you know he was satisfied with the show you’d put on.

“There she is. We’ll have a new investor soon enough.” 

You were certain of that. You had to be certain of that, or your livelihood would be down the drain, and a future of shimmering lights and diamond-encrusted gowns would be out of the question. 

On the walk up the stairs, you spoke soft words in your head, hummed the same tune you did for every show. It reminded you of who you were — at least, who you were to them. The ones who would have sold an arm and leg for a chance to win your heart, even though, after all the years that passed, you didn’t think you had one to give anymore. 

The stage was all the love you had to offer. Perhaps, the only type of love you believed in, anymore. 

You made your way up the spiraling staircase to the Elephant Room, and opened the door with a sigh, letting your weight rest against the doorknob. For a moment, you deflated in the threshold like a woman in a Shakespearian tragedy, exhaling the tension that had wrought in your shoulders. 

Until you felt eyes slide across to you, unexpectedly, and you found you weren’t alone in the Elephant Room. 

Without pretense, the Duke was waiting for you, his eyes dancing along the interior, taking a moment to gaze at every corner of the room. There was interest in his irises, as he searched for other secrets of your life through your belongings

Then, the door slammed shut behind you, and the spell was broken. The Duke turned to face you, eyes widening with alarm, as your back went straight as a wire.

He wasn’t supposed to be there already.

A second slipped by, and you gawked at each other, your own mouth dry with the confusion and surprise of his ill-timed appearance. Surely Buggy hadn’t sent him to the Elephant Room already? You’d only just parted.

Well, you supposed it didn’t matter now anyway.  La vie continue.

Smoothly, you recovered, raising your shoulders to release an air of confidence, and smiled brightly. You twisted your hair across your collarbone, hoping it would highlight the smooth planes of your chest, where the ruby necklace had already been removed. “Ah, my apologies, monsieur. I wasn’t aware you were waiting for me.”

The Duke blinked as you strutted past him, taking the two quick steps to your vanity. Just enough to brush against him, feel the desire rolling off of him in waves. 

Pointedly, he tried hard not to let his eyes drift lower, tracing just along your hips before snapping back up to to the back of your head. “How would you have known?” His words came out thick, as if something was lodged deep in his chest. “I haven’t even introduced myself.”

“Oh, there’s no need,” you said over your shoulder, lowering your voice huskily. “I’ve heard so much about you. I trust your visit to the Moulin Rouge has been pleasant?” 

He met your gaze through the mirror, seemingly enraptured, and cleared his throat as he calculated a response. “Très agréable, mademoiselle.” 

You smiled, humming through an affirmative, before continuing. “Wonderful. I’ll be ready in just one moment.” Imperceptibly, you sprayed perfume, hoping it would mask the sweat that had gathered from your performance. Then, you made your way over to a cart, sifting through expensive bottles of alcohol. “Drink?” you said, speaking softly to yourself. “I have champagne or…” You shook each of the bottles, realizing they were all empty. Not a drop left. “Well. I have champagne.” 

“I’m alright, madame. Merci.”

You began to pour your own glass, which you would certainly be needing, when it dawned upon you that his accent was rather Parisian, and absolutely not as foreign as Buggy would have had you believe. Your champagne slipped, nearly spilling over the edges of the cup, before you turned to eye the blonde with what you hoped with a sultry grin. 

“Ah. Your French is very beautiful,” you said, smiling over the edge of your glass as you sipped at it, wondering if your eyes were as alluring as you believed. “You’re a quick learner.”

He stared at you, lines creasing his features as his lips parted, obvious skepticism weaved within his posture. Then, without another word, he ignited the cigarette he had slipped between his lips, the end glowing before he inhaled. A long drag was taken from it, settling in his lungs. “Je suis désolé, mademoiselle. I’m not sure how to answer that,” he said, exhale releasing a cloud of smoke into the air. 

You laughed, a high-pitched giggle that turned you back to face him, his free hand stuffed in his pocket like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. “Usually people answer compliments with another thank you, but it’s no matter.” You forced another small sound up out of you, suddenly unsure exactly what to do next. 

He was… not what you’d been expecting, and the usual turn of events wasn’t progressing as it should have been. The Duke was supposed to be an intimidating man, one who knew what he wanted and would take it without question. That's what you'd heard, anyway. You were starting to wonder if what Buggy had told you were nothing but rumors. 

Waving the comment off, you made your way back to the vanity, checking that your scarlet lipstick had not smeared. His lingering gaze still traced against every curve of your body, and you stuck your hips out further, leaning towards the mirror with a small grin. “I apologize I didn’t have time to change. I wasn’t expecting you here so soon.”

The Duke nodded, only slowly processing your words before tapping on the cigarette. “Oh, there’s… no need.” Then, he shook his head, blinking, as if cringing internally. “Unless you’re uncomfortable. In that case, I’ll um… turn around.” 

You laughed, hiccuping as the quick gulps of champagne came bubbling up inside of you. “Well, it’s no matter, really. I’m sure they’ll come off soon enough.” The comment was meant to be a simple segue into the rather normal routine of your work, low and seductive. 

Instead, his eyes went wide, cheeks flushed as he looked, quite pointedly, anywhere but you. “No,” his voice rang at a higher pitch as you stalked towards him, your glass of champagne drained and discarded. “No, I’d really rather you keep them on, actually.”

You blinked, a bit puzzled by that. But it wasn’t the strangest request you’d ever gotten, and you were determined to please him, just as Buggy had requested. “Alright. Whatever you want, amour.” 

Like a cat, you crept up to the Duke, splaying your hands across his chest. A small sound left his throat, cheeks turning a darker shade as he took a step back, grasping for words. Your hand fisted his tie, satisfied by his reaction as you followed his stumbling lead back towards the bed. 

“How would you prefer to start?” you whispered, as his knees hit the edge of the heart-shaped mattress, legs buckling until he was flat on his back, gawking up at you from the bed. “I admit you are a hard one to read. Just say the word, I can be whatever you want.”

You scrambled on top of his thighs, dress hiked up to reveal the smoothness of your own legs, which quickly caught his attention.

“I-I’m not sure that we’re on the same page here,” he said, swallowing, though watching every one of your movements with rapt attention. 

You plucked the cigarette from his lips, and took a long drag, smiling down at him. 

The smoke filled your lungs, calming your nerves marginally. They were cheap cigarettes — not those usually desired by the nobility, but who were you to judge for odd preferences? He’d found his way here to you, after all. 

“No?” you answered softly, taking one more long inhale of the cigarette before you leaned forward, placing it into the ashtray, still burning. There was a long streak of red from your lipstick, staining the thin cylinder of white. “Then what is it that you’re here for?”  

He exhaled, fingers reaching up along your thighs, the touch so featherlight that you almost weren’t sure it was even there. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten the question entirely, jaw slackened as he stared at you above him, before he swallowed, and sat up on his forearms. 

The movement brought your faces even closer together, his nose just centimeters from brushing your own. It was then you realized just how blue his eyes were, the color illuminated by the dim candlelight, deep hues of turquoise and navy swirling together to create a stormy sea. His thick, blonde eyelashes fluttered closed as he blinked at you, and the movement alone brought you out of your stupor, his voice raspy upon each syllable.  

“I’m here for the play…?” 

You drew back, needing a moment to breathe as you squinted your eyes to study him. It was rare for you to get a client like him, wealthy, but so uncertain, a charm about him that you couldn’t quite pin. They were never as handsome either, most far older than you, willing to throw cash at a younger, beautiful woman. 

Questions raised at the back of your mind, desperate to be asked, but you ignored them, beaming as you angled your head. “Ah. Of course. The play.” Your voice was saccharine, octaves higher than your usual volume. “What is my role, then?” you asked, tugging off his tie as you leaned into him, your lips just barely brushing his own. His breath was hot against your mouth, a hint of cheap alcohol still lingering on his breath. “I’m far too used to being the seductress, but I can be the damsel in distress, if you’d prefer that.” 

“Your role…” It was said more to himself than anything, not stopping you as your fingers began to unbutton his starched white shirt. You tilted your head forward, noses brushing together as you rested your forehead against his. 

The air grew warm between you, and for a moment, a beautiful, fleeting second, you lost yourself. Your grip on his top grew slack, fingertips caressing the warm expanse of his chest. He breathed into your mouth, and your eyes fell shut, letting him connect his lips to your own, the moment exploding in a rush of beautiful, ruby fireworks. 

And you were keen, then, to let him do whatever he would have wanted, his touch so featherlight and gentle, you wondered if you could have fallen in love with him. How quickly your heart, coated in steel and another layer of iron, betrayed you, dropping from your own chest right into the palms of the man that you needed as a savior.

But the moment did not last so long, and your vulnerability evaporated as quickly as the layer of dew beyond la Seine. As if coming back to himself, he choked, pulled away from your lips and pushed you back by the shoulders, staring at you with wide eyes and warm, tinted cheeks. 

You paused, watching as he rushed to his feet like he couldn’t get up fast enough. How easily the mood had soured, even as he muttered one apology after another, unable to meet your gaze. 

The Duke’s hands were shaky as he held the cigarette to his mouth, eyes fixated on the ceiling. He had plucked the same one back up from the ashtray, the streak of your bold, crimson lipstick imprinted on the end of it.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, hoping the worry wasn’t obvious in your words. If there was a problem, you were desperate to fix it. You couldn’t afford to ruin this, not when so many things were at stake.

He hesitated, another cloud of smoke leaving his mouth as he waved his hand around, ash falling from the cigarette. “I’m sorry — I’m sorry. I can’t focus when you’re,” he swallowed, cheeks burning, despite the hardness very obvious in his pants, “looking at me like that.” 

“Focus?” you said in gentle confusion, eyebrows pinched tighter, as the beginnings of a dreadful realization dawned upon on you. 

Feeling discarded on the bed, you sat and watched as he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, straightening like it was an important doctrine, before clearing his throat, and reciting a beautifully composed poem. 

The words were horrifically romantic, each line strung into another as if they had been pieced together by his very own heartstrings. And though you had not processed a single word, it had still struck a cord down deep in your weathered heart, and you continued to stare, sick with your own shame. 

It was beautiful — hauntingly so — a poem of love that could rival even the greatest of French writers. But, all you could think about was the pounding in the back of your mind, the panic steadily rising up within you.  

“You’re here for a play. An actual play,” you said stupidly, gaping back at him, your entire body going rigid with embarrassment. “You’re serious.” No longer was your tone beautifully high-pitched, innocent despite your sensuality. It had lowered in horror, your eyes going wide as you realized that all of this was a terrible, terrible misunderstanding.

Which seemed a lackluster reaction to whatever he was looking for, and he frowned, tilted his head back before heavily inhaling another puff of smoke. “Well, I suppose I would prefer that sort of reaction to hearing that my writing is awful. The play wasn’t my idea, just for the record.” 

“Writer?” you screeched, scrambling to your feet. “You’re not a Duke? Not the Duke?” 

His eyebrows lifted, searching your face for any hint of a joke, and when he found none, he laughed, face splitting beautifully with a smile. He gestured to himself like he was amazed you would even think so, his suit hardly of the latest fashions, the cufflinks a dulling silver. 

Which, in hindsight, was truly a marvelous mistake. 

“No, I am not a duke.” His forehead wrinkled, and he, finally, stamped the cigarette out on the ashtray, subtly putting the stub back into his pocket. “Is that why you thought I couldn’t speak French? Je viens de Paris. I thought that was obvious.” Once more, he laughed, smiling in a manner that was far too out of place for the situation. Then, just as dramatically, his face fell, eyes going wide with concern. “Hold on. Did you not know that I would be here?” 

“No!” you exclaimed, putting your finger to his chest as you shot forward, glaring with the heat of a thousand suns. Your features morphed into something horrible, though you doubted it was as intimidating as you hoped. “No, I have been waiting on a Duke, not some amateur, impoverished writer from this dreadful city I regret ever stepping foot in. And if you tell me that you’re another one of Luffy’s tragic bohemian protégés—”

He smiled sheepishly, tilting his head before you could even finish your sentence. “Well. First of all, I wouldn’t say I’m an amateur.”

Your hands flew to your mouth, a sound leaving your throat in dismay as another voice — the exact voice you were hoping not to hear — called out from the window. 

“Sanji!” Luffy said, a headful of black hair falling over the side, grinning at both of you. “How’s it going? Have you convinced her yet?” 

“No!” you shouted, already rushing towards the window, shooing Luffy away. Over and over you repeated the word, Luffy merely swinging back and forth from whatever rope he’d tied himself to, more amused than anything “Get out of here, Luffy! I should’ve known it was you that put him up to this.” 

For years, Luffy had been trying to recruit you, hoping you'd be an actress in one of his performances, and that the Moulin Rouge would be the place that funded it.

With his endless confidence, Luffy was certain that one day, he would create the best production in the history of Paris. But you were certainly skeptical of his ideas ever taking off, Buggy even more-so, and he refused to put even a single franc towards funding any of Luffy's productions.

Despite the rejection, you continued to get pestered, Luffy somehow convinced that he could help you become an established actress quicker than your current occupation could.

Luffy laughed, still with the audacity to ask if you liked Sanji’s writing, and you pushed his head back out the window, muttering profanities to yourself. 

“Who’s with you? Usopp? Zoro? I’m going to kill all three of you!” 

You yelled that last bit louder, just to be sure the two men you knew were up on the roof could hear you as well. And, just as expected, a muttered string of words escaped Zoro, and a much louder, panicked sound came from Usopp. 

They peeked their heads into the window with Luffy. 

“I tried to stop him,” Usopp said, wailing as Zoro hushed him, his dark eyes clouded with regret. “I knew it was a horrible plan, I’m so sorry.” 

Your lips drew into a thin line, unconvinced, despite all the theatrics. “I want you all out! Get back up there before—” 

Footsteps started up the stairs, and your eyes went wide, panicked as the voices of Buggy and the Duke, the real duke, started up the stairs. 

“Leave!” you hissed, shoving Luffy and Usopp back out the window, before turning to face Sanji, who was rather uselessly standing in the middle of the floor. Groaning, you gripped him by the arm, pulling him across the room as you scanned for a good hiding spot. “Hide. I need you to hide. He can’t see you.”  

“What’s going on?” Sanji asked. “Luffy told me—”

You released a sharp laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh, I’m certain Luffy told you a lot of things,” you huffed, letting your hand slip down into his own as you dragged him into a corner of the room. “Unfortunately, Luffy’s plans are sometimes too grand, and he needs someone to bring him down to Earth. Which you, clearly, did not do and now—”

Your name was called out from behind the door, and you cursed, pushing Sanji into the corner of the room, near the vanity. “Stay there. Just… hide under something!” 

“Where?” 

But the door was already opening, and you scrambled into a chair, running your fingers across your hair to make sure you seemed somewhat presentable. You brought your legs up under you, lowering your gaze to bat your eyelashes as the Duke and Buggy entered the room, both staring at you with intrigue. 

“Here she is,” Buggy said, gesturing towards you with a curious look in his eye, a dark smile forming on his painted face. There was a warning there, one that you were not foolish enough to ignore. “My beautiful diamond. Hopefully just as lovely as she was up on the stage tonight.” 

The Duke’s regard for you was hardly passionate, though you could see a sliver of desire under all the layers of intimidation. He was a tall man, dark hair falling to his shoulders in thick strands. A long scar ran across his cheekbones, over the bridge of his nose, and he looked down at you, studying every piece of you like you were nothing more than a decoration to admire. 

You waited for him to say something, but it was clear he was waiting for the same, and you stood, perhaps too rapidly, and made your way over to him. 

“Monsieur, what a pleasure it is to meet you,” you smiled, if only to ease the anxiety strung through your body. Dipping your head, you looked back up at him with siren eyes, “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit.”

The Duke paused for another moment, studying you before taking your hand, and kissing it softly. It was a soothing gesture, despite the intensity of his eyes. Tension seeped gradually from your shoulders. 

“The pleasure is mine, my dear,” he said, his voice deep, raspy. “And there’s no need for such pleasantries when we’ll be acquainted soon enough.” His thumb ran across your cheek, before his hand fell back to his side. “I’d prefer Crocodile.”

Buggy, just feet behind the Duke, began to back away, exhaling in relief. “Well, I will leave you to it, then. And—”

That was all he could get out, as the scene shattered. 

Before Buggy could make his escape, a sound came from the window, a yelp, then an echoing shout, as Luffy, Usopp and Zoro fell down from the window, swinging into the room from the dangling rope. They landed in a somersaulting heap, just inches from where Sanji had been hiding, and your jaw slackened, before your entire body stiffened once more. 

Not a word rang through the room as you stared at the three of them, Crocodile sliding his gaze over to you for an explanation. The silence was tangible, heavy with uncertainty. 

A nervous laugh left Buggy, but it was quickly cut off as Usopp pulled both Zoro and Luffy up by their coats, and exclaimed, “Are you ready for rehearsal?” 

“Rehearsal…” you muttered, and at the same time, Crocodile posed the words as a question, his eyes narrowed, unamused.

“I wasn’t aware that there were other things going on this evening,” he said.

“Ah,” you continued, keeping yourself composed as you moved to stand in front of him. “Non, there’s nothing going on we just…” Internally you cursed, over and over, glancing at Buggy, who was near to shouting at Luffy, the two of them locked in a stand-off. There would be no help from any of them it seemed, as they waited for your reaction.

You placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of Crocodile, softening your expression into one of expectation. “Well, I know this isn’t what you had in mind, monsieur, but we thought now would be a good time to introduce you to our new production… Right, Buggy? While we’re all here together, of course. A once in a while opportunity.” 

You smiled, eyes narrowing exaggeratedly at Buggy, before the obvious question became clear to him. 

“Oh,” he nodded slowly, before bursting into the same smile he always used for your shows. “Right. Of course. Our new show—”

“Which, we have written specifically for you, Sir, if you would be so keen on investing.” You took Crocodile’s arm gently, leading him past the chair where Sanji was hiding, hopeful he would reacquaint himself with the rest of the troupe. And, as if reading your mind, Sanji scrambled to his feet, standing alongside Zoro and Usopp like he’d been there all along.

You exhaled softly, continuing to the Duke, “It was going to be a surprise, but we supposed it would be best for you to see it now, before we started any production. You are so wise with your investments, we didn’t want to be presumptuous.” 

Crocodile gave you an odd look, and for a moment, you weren’t sure he believed you. Then, you flashed him a hopeful smile, naive under all the great bravado, and he relented, amused by your earnestness. 

“Well, I am not usually interested in investing in such small ordeals, but…” He waved a hand, before running the other down the breadth of your spine, a touch that was near possessive. “If it stars our lovely diamond, it is sure to be a hit, no?” 

You relaxed, making a show of leaning into his advances. 

“Of course,” Buggy proclaimed, far too intense for your liking, as he tried to ease the Duke back out of the Elephant Room. “Would you like to get started on paperwork? How about we work out the details, and we’ll find another evening for you and—”

Crocodile raised a hand, the room swiftly silenced. “I need to know the story first, before we handle business. Not even the most beautiful of stars can carry a dying universe, I’m afraid.” He turned to you, his eyes so intense it was hard to muster up the courage to speak.

“Story?” You blinked, your smile falling. “Yes. Right. The story. Well, that’s an excellent question, and you would be certain to ask that, of course…” You looked to Buggy, then Usopp, who seemed all too happy to blend in with the shadows. Then to Zoro, who stood stiffly, and shrugged. Finally, your eyes landed on Luffy, who was grinning wildly and pushing Sanji forward, far too excited that this was all taking place.

“Here’s our writer,” Luffy proclaimed, patting Sanji on the back before taking a step away and crossing his arms. “Go on and tell them.” 

Which was a way to say the play hasn’t been written yet, and we’re making this all up as we go, in less obvious words. 

You wanted to melt into the floor, curl away from the hot palm that still rested on the small of your back, as you stared at Sanji helplessly, begging him to come up with an answer. 

And while the time seem to pass far too slowly for your liking, he didn’t even fumble for words as he nodded to you, dragging his eyes across the audience that was watching him expectantly. 

“It’s about love,” he said smoothly, confidence seemingly regained now that you weren’t the only person in the room. “It’s about love overcoming all obstacles.”

His eyes met yours once again, so deeply blue and beautiful. Against your better judgment, your heart surged out of your chest. 

“Yes! And it’s set in Switzerland!” Luffy exclaimed, laughing with delight. 

“No, no,” Sanji snapped, before recovering his story, mind working rapidly as he thought up a tale that would be imaginative enough to spark the interest of the Duke. “It’s set on the seas!” Then he lowered his overexcited voice, the words softening with adoration. “And there’s a courtesan. The most beautiful courtesan in the world.” 

Sanji's gaze fixed on you, and you blinked away, hating that awful feeling that bloomed in your heart. Still, a small smile tugged at your lips, one that you hid from everyone else. 

“But,” he said, tearing his attention away from you. “Her city’s been invaded by an evil pirate Warlord. Now, in order to save her kingdom, she has to seduce the evil Warlord. But, on the night of her seduction, she mistakes a penniless… A penniless…” He looked around helplessly, licking his lips. “A penniless cook, and she falls in love with him. He wasn’t trying to trick her, but he was dressed as a prince because… well… he was trying to infiltrate the Warlord’s headquarters.” 

“And I will play the captain of the crew that the cook works on!” Usopp interjected, taking a step in front of Sanji, his arms raised high with excitement, far too proud of himself. 

You coughed down a laugh as Crocodile regarded him with an impatient look. “Alright... What happens next?”

Sanji spared a quick scowl to Usopp, before regaining the attention of everyone in the room, weaving each word with precision. “Well, the cook and the courtesan, they are to hide their love from the evil Warlord—”

“With the help of their actual Captain, who has magical powers where he’s made out of rubber!” Luffy, this time, decided to add his own artistic storytelling, which silenced the entire room from skepticism.

Sanji blinked, hesitant. “Yes, well, that part’s still in the works,” he promised Crocodile, waving his hand dismissively. “There’ll be a crew, with a swordsman and a navigator… and of course the Warlord will have his own set of pirates working for him. It’s a grand production, the embodiment of the Bohemian ideals…” 

Sanji continued the story, crafting a plot of truth, beauty, freedom and love. But you were focused only on him, the passion with which he spun the tale, softening at the tragic romance that would take place between the courtesan and the cook. Every so often, your eyes would meet, and you would smile, if only slightly, with encouragement, enough to keep up his unwavering confidence until the end. 

"The finale hasn't been written yet,” he admitted, wrapping up his summary of the unfinished play, as the rest of you huddled around Crocodile for a reaction, his face dreadfully unreadable. “But—”

“We would love to get you involved artistically,” Buggy interrupted, excited by the prospects of the thrilling production and an investor. “If you have any suggestions.” 

A tense ten seconds passed, as Crocodile regarded each one of you, thoughtful. “The story could use some work,” he mused. “But, generally I like it.” 

An eruption of cheers burst out from each of you, and you smiled, giggling as you leaned into the Duke, hopeful that your gratitude was evident. Across the room, Sanji relaxed, lighting up another cigarette, and Buggy gestured forward, talking at such a rapid speed you were certain his words were slurring together. 

“Come, come with me,” he said, ushering Crocodile out of the room. “We’ll talk business.” 

Crocodile followed, but spared one last moment for you, as you followed the two men to the door, guiding him out. 

“I apologize that our evening together was different than anticipated,” you said, as genuinely as you could, tracing a hand down his chest. “Perhaps another night would be best for us to talk.” 

“Perhaps.” He hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his smile widening crookedly. “I still need to get acquainted with our star. Fame will suit you, my dear.” 

You smiled, a surge of pride overcoming you, one so strong that you couldn’t even wallow in the discomfort of his touch. “I look forward to it.” 

The two of you parted, the moment evaporating as Crocodile followed Buggy out the door. And, when it finally slammed shut behind the two of them, you exhaled, all of the anxiety leaving your body in a flush. 

The four other men went silent as you whirled on them, expressions dour as they waited for you to be the first to speak. Sanji’s jaw was tight as he looked away from the door, back to you, regarding you with an unreadable expression.

But, you were still reeling on your success, too excited to care about the anger you’d felt earlier. You broke into a cheerful grin, rushing to throw your arms around the young ring-leader. “Luffy,” you said, close to weeping. Things weren’t over yet, but there was a parting in the clouds, a sun shining through, as the hope of a future, a better one, became real. “Thank you. For the first time, one of your ridiculous plans actually worked. I’m very grateful.” 

He smiled like it was nothing, and your laughter became infectious, bubbling out of you in an effort to keep down your tears. You turned to the other two, both watching you curiously. 

“Usopp, thank you for that wonderful recovery. I’m not sure what we would have done if you’d not planned an emergency rehearsal.” 

He grinned wide, puffing his chest out. “Ah, well, I knew someone had to act fast.” 

Lastly, you turned to the green-haired man, and his name sooner died on your lips, when you realized he had contributed very little. “Zoro. You were useless actually.” 

Sanji snorted, and though Zoro’s face twitched, he didn’t bother saying anything to the writer. “You looked like you had it handled.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Well. I suppose we did.” You rolled your eyes, your mood suddenly deflating. The high of panic and elation had worn on you, leaving you with an ache in the back of your head, your hands still jittery. “Anyway, I’ve just about had all the fun I can handle for one night—”

“Uh-huh,” Zoro scoffed, a jab at your rather unconventional occupation.

You ignored him, pushing them all towards the door. “—I am very grateful for your help in getting our new investor, but we’ve got a busy week ahead, and I would like some rest. So, leave.” 

They all held their hands up in surrender, and while Sanji hadn’t been a part of the group you’d been addressing, he slowly followed when Luffy called out to him. There was talk of throwing a party across the street, at the dingy apartment complex that all the Bohemians lived in, despite it being late already.

The four of them made to leave, waving enthusiastically as they rushed down the stairs, far too worked up to be quiet. Sanji lagged behind them, giving you a kind smile before making his exit, a soft bonne nuit, escaping his lips.

“Sanji…” You called out, just before he closed the door behind him, his hand resting on the frame. Sanji turned, glancing over his shoulder, bright eyes pinning you right where you stood. “I’m sorry. So very sorry for the misunderstanding.” You waved your hand, drawing your fingers across your face to rest on your cheeks, already warm with shame. “I feel horrible.”

He paused, before a a grin split his face, irises burning with soft intensity. “Don’t,” he said, exhaling a laugh. “I enjoyed it, actually.” 

thank u so much for reading and for all the endless support!! i appreciate you all so very much ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

tagging those who rb'd / commented <3 pls let me know if you'd like to be added !

@cerberels / @keeper-of-my-heart / @chuuminn / @eussstasss / @mncxbe / @tetzoro / @msheds0519 / @awealuc / @akuma-coffee / @stunie / @chositooo / @piichuu

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.

Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince

NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE

That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.

Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~

Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:

~

Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.

Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.

But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.

All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.

Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.

As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.

Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.

"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."

Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.

But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"

So this was the famous Arabeth.

"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."

The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.

He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.

"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.

"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"

And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.

It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?

Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"

She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"

"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"

"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"

"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."

"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"

Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."

"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.

Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?

But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.

It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.

By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.

"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.

"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."

"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.

"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"

Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.

Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.

She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"

"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."

She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"

"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.

"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"

This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.

You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."

But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."

She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"

"No! I'm marrying the prince!"

Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.

"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"

She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."

Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."

Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."

"Dad don't-"

"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.

He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."

"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."

"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"

"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.

He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.

Now all he had to do was ask.

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Consequences

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 15.1k

Summary: Wanda is excited to get to meet your parents for the first time and she wants to make the best impression, but you won’t make it easy for her, teasing her the entire time and she finds the perfect way to punish you. 

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, oral, oral to a strap, spanking, fingering, magic use, magical restraints, finger sucking, strap on sex, enchanted strap, use of butt plug, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader OMG, I’m so excited about this fic! Masterlist with all my works.          Part 2: Face the consequences

Late on a Friday night, you watched your girlfriend pace around your shared bedroom. This was the third time she was going over the list she had made, reading out loud each item and checking if everything was packed and ready for your trip. You both knew it was, but Wanda wanted to make sure. She was nervous about meeting your parents and she was compensating in any way she could. You had told your parents about Wanda fairly soon into your relationship. You came out to them after college and even though they had different expectations back then, they were supportive. Sensitive of their feelings, you were reluctant to talk about your partners, but when you met Wanda, you couldn’t stop talking about her. Which is why 6 months into the relationship, they insisted they meet her. She was happy, of course, to know that you felt so strongly about her, that you were proud to be her girlfriend, that you showed her off to your friends as much as she did with you. It was new to her. It was usually her, who would show off her girl any chance she got, her who would tell people over and over how great they were. But you had done the same from the very beginning and it made her love you even more. Now, when she was about to meet your parents soon, she wanted to live up to the high standard you had set with the amazing things you said about her and you couldn’t watch her torture herself anymore. You walked over to her, wrapping your arms around her softly in an attempt to calm her nerves. “We have everything, Wanda, you know we do.” You said softly, watching her turn around in your hands, so she could face you. “Just come to bed?” You offered, taking her hand in hers and tugging on it gently. Wanda managed a genuine smile, making you hopeful and you sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her between your open thighs. “Wouldn’t you prefer to play with me instead?” You teased, hoping to entice her. “Oh, my poor girl.” She cooed, smoothing your hair gently. “I haven’t touched you all day and you’re feeling all needy, aren’t you?” She smirked, leaning down to kiss you softly. ���Does your pretty pussy need Mommy?” She asks, voice sweet and full of promises. “Yes, Mommy, I need you.” You breathe out, your eyes closing on their own just at the thought of being touched, of getting to let go and relax. “My sweet girl.” She smiled, holding your chin up with her fingers and leaning down to kiss you. You almost held your breath, waiting for the moment her lips would touch yours, but that moment never came. Instead, you heard her exclaim “Pyjamas!”, pulling away from you before you could even protest and she started to look through the closet. You could only groan, frustration evident on your face as you watched her. You knew that when she got like this, there was nothing that would truly distract her, which was a shame, because you genuinely hoped that she would join you in bed and touch you, the way you’d been dreaming of all day. “Get into bed, honey.” She said, pausing to look over at you with affection. “I’ll join you soon.” She promised, before she resumed her previous actions. “Promise?” “Yes, dear, I promise.” She sighed, coming over to kiss you briefly, tucking you in and smiling as you closed your eyes. You followed her movements throughout the house for a few minutes, your ears attuned to her and her habits, feeling sleepy and tired, until eventually you drifted off. You felt her settle into bed next to you at some point, turning over so you could cuddle her, her head pressing to your chest, so she could let the steady rhythm of your heartbeat calm her and you wrapped your arms around her securely, kissing her forehead affectionately, but you were too tired and sleepy to ask what time it was. You were afraid that she had spent too much time worrying, but she was with you now and that’s all you wanted. You knew why she was concerned. You talked about it in length, when your parents first invited the two of you. You knew this was the first time she was ever meeting one of her partners’ parents, that she was scared that if they dislike her, it would change your relationship, that they would think she’s not good enough for you. And you knew they were all valid things to be worried about, normal, mundane things… Things that would pale to the reaction your parents would have if they ever found out that your girlfriend is a witch… And you tried your best to reassure her, to support her and answer all her questions about your family, in hopes to help her feel more at ease. You also knew that when she got like this, she didn’t sleep much. That she’ll wake up way too early and worry herself into a frenzy, waking you up and rushing you through the door, so you could get there as quickly as possible, because God forbid that your parents think that you might sleep in a little on a Saturday. Just as you had predicted, when the alarm on your nightstand got off, Wanda was already up, two cups of steaming coffee were waiting for you and she was looking at the traffic reports and different routes she could take on her phone. She was buzzing with excitement, you could see it and you didn’t want to add to her frustration, so despite the early hour and the voice inside your head that told you that you wanted to cuddle her and drink your coffee in bed, you got up and got ready in record time, all the while trying to calm her nerves. “Are you sure this outfit is ok? I don’t want to come off as flashy.” She asked, playing with her rings. “It’s perfect, Wanda. And so are you.” You assured her, kissing her cheek gently. “You could benefit from a longer skirt.” She muttered, eyeing your choice. She loved you in this and had seen you in it before, but it was for a date. She thought that for your parents, perhaps something less revealing would be a better choice. “My parents don’t care about that, Wands. It’s ok.” You smiled, pulling her into a hug. “Please don’t let this get to you. You have faced so many things, you’re so strong, baby… You’re the Scarlet Witch! You’re an Avenger! Meeting my parents should be a piece of cake.” “Except I can’t fight your parents, if things don’t go well.” She frowned, taking a deep breath to steady herself and you couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her statement. “If all else fails, try that.” You joked. “Just know that my mom looks fragile, but she’s freakishly strong and she fights dirty.” And you smiled, when you saw Wanda chuckle a little at your statement. “I’ll keep it in mind.” She muttered, leaning down to kiss you. “I just hope we haven’t missed anything.” She commented. “I’m sure that if we did, you can just magic it for us.” You insisted, holding on to her. “You have a solution for everything, don’t you.” She teased, her eyes drifting to your lips. “Yup. I’m a problem-solver.” You teased her back, leaning in a little, daring her to kiss you. “And the solution is always you. You make everything better.” You added, the words true and soft. At that, she couldn’t help but kiss you, her palms cradling your face affectionately as she kissed you gently, but fully, claiming your mouth and causing a surge of excitement to pass through your body. She didn’t miss the way you shuddered against her needily, she knew you were feeling that way since last night and she smirked, making a mental note to take care of that as soon as the two of you got back. Not that she didn’t want to ravish you right this second, but you didn’t have time and she was not going to risk your parents’ good favour by fucking you senseless and making you scream right under their roof. “We should get going, sweetheart.” She whispered, when the two of you parted and her resolve almost broke when she heard you mewl for her. “I promise to take such good care of you as soon as we get back, baby girl. I’ll give you everything you want, kitten, no holding back. You just have to be a little more patient.” “When we get back?” You reflected, thinking of all the time you’ll have to spend without her touch. “No, no, no, please Wands, that’s too long! Please don’t make me wait that long.” “It’s just a couple of nights, honey. We can make it.” She insisted. She didn’t want to be deprived of your touch either, but she wasn’t going to let her desire for you ruin her chance to win your parents, so she strengthened her resolve. She knew she would need a lot of it, since she hadn’t needed to hold back since before your first night together. After that amazing time, when she finally made you her own, your relationship developed quickly and she took advantage of every opportunity to ravage you, making this stay with your parents the longest dry spell the two of you have had to face. With a deep sigh you let her pull away from you and she smiled a little at the dramatic way you were taking it all. Surely, it couldn’t be that bad. But she pushed the thought from her mind, taking most of your bags, allowing you to carry just some small, light things to the car and she loaded it all in. On the road she let you play whatever music you wanted, but the two of you mostly talked, the time passing quickly. Whenever she didn’t keep you occupied, she would see your eyes wander at the scenery around you and she would have thought you looked serene if it wasn’t for the subtle, but unmistakable way you would squeeze your legs together and she was tempted to see what you were thinking of, but since she was driving, she didn’t want to accidentally crash her car, due to the images she might find, settling for occupying your time and mind instead. When you arrived, car parked in your parents’ driveway, Wanda started to fidget. She turned to you, her green eyes full of worry and you took her hand in yours. You were going to start reassuring her, wanting to help her feel more at ease, but as soon as your mouth opened, so did your house’ front door and your parents stepped outside, smiling faces taking you both in. “I love you, Wanda.” You squeezed her hand in yours, as it was the best you could do in the short time you had, seeing your mom and dad starting to walk towards you. “It’s going to be ok.” You promised and she nodded, steeling her nerves and gathering all her composure, so she would look friendly and kind. The moment you stepped out of the car, meeting your parents in the middle of the driveway, they started to hug you, your mom reaching you first and hugging you warmly. Your dad, more reserved as he was, stayed at your mother’s side, smiling and following Wanda’s movements as she stepped closer to the 3 of you. You hugged him next, his arms wrapping around you entirely and pulling you close. Unlike your mom, he said nothing, as sharing his feelings wasn’t his way, but you knew it warmed his heart to have you back. “Mom, dad, I would like you both to meet my girlfriend Wanda.” You announced when she was finally next to you and you watched them greet each other, watching the interaction closely. Both your parents offered their hands to her, introducing themselves with a smile and they barely waited for the pleasantries to be over, before they beckoned you inside. You watched your dad help Wanda with the luggage, as neither one would allow you to help, and you saw the subtle smile on his face grow, liking her already. And it wasn’t because Wanda carried your bags. He knew you were a capable girl and that you didn’t need someone to do it for you. He just liked that Wanda was the type of woman who gave you a glance and said “We’ve got it” and you listened without protest. Something he'd never seen you do in your life.   By the time the two of you settled it was already lunch and the two of you joined your parents around the neatly set table. Your mother had asked you in advance about what Wanda liked and if she was allergic to anything, preparing different menus for the days you’d spend together and she proudly started to bring out food from the kitchen, refusing any offers of help from you or Wanda. During the meal your parents got to know Wanda a little better, the conversation flowing smoothly and as her curiosity piqued, she started listening in on their thoughts. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help it. She was scared that they’ll hate her. But as much as it shocked her, they didn’t. In fact they loved her. She spoke equally well with both of them. She spoke about cooking, fashion and art with your mom and politics, house maintenance, travel and gardening with your dad. Because truly, your parents’ beautiful garden was all his doing. Something Wanda was well aware of, of course. And the more she won them over, the more she enjoyed being here with them. Your mother saw the vulnerability in her, saw how gentle and caring she was towards you, saw the affection and adoration in her eyes every time she looked at you. Your mother could tell Wanda was good for you. You seemed happy, radiant even. She saw the pride in your eyes when you looked at your girlfriend, saw the love, saw your newfound spark for life there and she was overjoyed. She saw the way Wanda encouraged your interests and hobbies and she was glad that you had found someone like her as a partner. Your father liked Wanda too. He, the way men do, noticed the strength in her, saw the way she walked confidently, with her shoulders squared and her head high, saw she was considerate of you, protective of you, the way he had once hoped a man would. Knowing you loved women, he was accepting, and of all the women, he was happy that you had picked Wanda Maximoff. More than that, he could tell you respected her. The way you hadn’t showed respect towards any other partner you’ve had and, in his eyes, if Wanda was worthy of your respect, then she certainly was the right kind of woman for you. “They love you.” You told her, when you got a moment alone with her. “I swear they love you more than they love me.” “You know that’s not true, baby.” Wanda smiled, stroking your hair. “They just like me for you.” “Oh, I’m not saying that as a bad thing.” You laughed. “It’s good that they love you.’’ You said, leaning in to kiss her gently, but getting immediately pushed away, when Wanda heard your parents walking back in. Wanda was a modern, progressive woman by all accounts, she knew about all the new trends and she could blend in anywhere and talk freely with anyone, she rarely cared about what others might think of her and she was never ashamed to show the world you were hers. She kissed you passionately when she wanted to, held your hand in public proudly, kept you close, but when it came to this, she was old-fashioned to the core. She wasn’t going to kiss you in front of your mom and dad, she was not going to have sex with you in their house and she was not going to let you try to tempt her. Seeing the disappointment in your eyes, she squeezed your hand in a silent apology, hating that she had to pull away from your lips. Despite what you might have thought, she already missed your lips and couldn’t wait to claim them all over again. “Girls.” Your mom spoke with a cheerful tone. “We’ll have to leave you two for a bit. We have some errands to run, but we’ll be back before dinner.” She explained and you inwardly cheered at the prospect of being left alone with Wanda. “If you want, the two of you can go out.” She suggested, turning to Wanda. “It’s so nice outside right now and Y/N can show you the town.” She offered. “Oh, that would be lovely.” Wanda agreed, before you had a chance to utter a word. You were actually seconds away from saying you’d rest instead, but her eagerness was so charming that you couldn’t resist. “We should.” Wanda turned to you too. “I want to know where you grew up.” “That’s so wonderful.” Your mom exclaimed. “Wanda, dear, after dinner I’ll show you all my albums with pictures of Y/N, too.” She promised and you had to hold in your groan. “You don’t need to do that, mom.” You tried to protest. “Yeah, I’m sure she doesn’t want to see all that.” Your dad chimed in, coming to your rescue. “I would love to see them.” Wanda spoke, her voice soft and sweet. She wasn’t going to let you deprive her of this, no matter how embarrassed you were. “It’s settled then.” Your mom agreed, looping her hand through your father’s arm and pulling him out of the room. “Have fun, girls!” She spoke over her shoulder and you could practically hear the smile she was wearing. “Don’t give me that look, detka.” Wanda smiled mischievously. “You can’t tell me you didn’t expect that.” “Expected it? Yes. But I still hoped to avoid it.” You muttered. “No way, dear. That would be too good to miss.” “I can’t believe you’d do that to me.” You protested again, but you were already smiling. You couldn’t deny Wanda anything. In the background you could hear your parents closing their front door, leaving you alone and an idea sparkled in your head. “I know… The torture!” She smiled, fake pity lacing in her voice. “Yeah… But you can make it up to me.” You offered, your voice dropping. You stood up from your chair and straddled her, your arms circling her neck, while you allowed your skirt to ride up your thighs, so Wanda could see the pair of pretty pink panties you had on. “And how would I do that?” She asked, lust slowly taking over her brain and you knew you almost had her. You leaned in to kiss her, eyes fluttering shut as your hips instinctively dragged themselves over her lap, searching for friction against your needy pussy, when suddenly you stiffened, startled by the sound of the front door flinging open again and your mother’s distant voice explaining to your dad that she’ll just grab whatever it is she forgot and they’ll be on their way and his grumbling response, before they left again. The two of you laughed, as if you were teenagers, seconds away from being caught doing something forbidden and with reluctance, you got yourself up, the moment ruined. “I’m sorry, darling.” Wanda soothed, helping you get off her lap and the two of you headed to the door. Wanda had a love for small towns that you couldn’t quite understand, but you showed her the place where you used to play as a kid, your old school, the café you loved going to with your friends and she listened to you with so much genuine interest as you told her about your memories that you felt blessed to have her as your partner. She insisted to see where you had your first kiss and the spot you liked for picnics, immersing herself in your life. You knew her life was much different than yours, that she never had those things, that she had faced a hard life and at first you were reluctant you talk about your experiences, about what you knew to be privilege, but she soon assured you that it didn’t hurt her to hear those things. She wanted to know everything about you. She wasn’t resentful that you had an easier life, she was happy that she was building a normal, good one alongside you. The two of you ended up on a bench in the park, talking about what you wanted in life, what your hopes and dreams for the future looked like and you both felt a sense of belonging with the other. You had talked about these things before, of course, shared ideas and aspirations, but now it felt more intimate and the two of you relaxed against each other, only leaving when it started to get dark. When you walked back into your parents’ house, they were already talking animatedly in the living room, greeting you both with wide smiles. “Did you have a nice walk?” Your mother asked, seating you on the couch. “What do you think of our little town Wanda?” “It’s lovely.” Your girlfriend smiled, taking her seat. You sat next to her, her hand on your thigh, smiling as the conversation around you started to flow effortlessly. Your parents directed most of the conversation on Wanda, naturally curious about her and somehow your thoughts managed to drift away on their own, until your name being called snapped you to attention. “What?” You blinked away your thoughts, focusing on your mother’s expecting gaze. “Sorry, I got distracted for a moment.” And distracted you were. She had put her hand on your thigh mindlessly, not really meaning anything more than that, but it had awoken something inside you. You remembered all the other times Wanda would touch you this way. On car rides and movie nights, in the dark movie theatre… All the times she teased you this way, made you needy, made you desperate for her touch. And desperate you were. You were going a little crazy at how badly you needed her and you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together as you tried to shake away the thought. “That’s all right, dear.” Your mother laughed. “I just asked if you could help me in the kitchen.” “Yes.” You managed a smile, getting up from your spot, feeling wetness smear across your underwear. This couldn’t do. You needed some sort of relief, or you were going to explode. “Would you excuse me for just a moment and I’ll join you in the kitchen?” You asked discretely. “Of course.” Your mom smiled, heading towards the kitchen, while you went upstairs and locked yourself in the bathroom. You leaned against the door, sighing, your mind split between wanting relief and thinking that you shouldn’t be doing this right now. Just a little patience. That’s what Wanda had said when you left your house this morning. But your body said something different. Just the thought of being kissed by her, of being touched and fucked by her was making your pussy throb and protest against the emptiness you felt. You needed to cum or you were going to go crazy. Your mind settling on a decision, you let your hand sneak under your skirt and inside your underwear, finding copious amounts of wetness there. Not really having much time to tease yourself, you used one hand to circle your clit, while the fingers of the other found your entrance and you pushed inside, pulling a deep sigh from you. It didn’t feel as good as Wanda’s touch, it didn’t even come close, but then again nothing felt as good as her anymore, but it was something and you started to work yourself up. Your mind filled with images of Wanda, of what she’ll do to you, of the little fantasies you’ve had with her that you felt too shy to share, loosing yourself in the moment entirely, until a knock on the door startled you back into reality. “Y/N, honey, are you all right?” Your mother’s voice called out and your heartbeat quickened. “Yeah, I’m ok. I’ll be right out.” You responded, your voice less stable than you hoped. “Ok, dear, I’ll be in the kitchen.” She explained and you heard her footsteps as she descended the stairs again. As soon as she left, you let out a shaky breath, feeling even more wound up. You were close. You needed a couple more minutes and you were going to cum and the thought of that frustrated you more. You needed this and you were so close, so with a shaky hand, you reached beneath your skirt once more, determined to get this done as quickly as possible. You got close, your breathing ragged as you tried to keep yourself as quiet as possible. The edge came next, not as good as you hoped for, but something and you needed a few more seconds to finally come, when another knock on the door startled you. This time you were listening closely, yet you heard no sound and that brought an icy feeling in your veins that the only person who could sneak this well is Wanda. “Darling, can you open the door for me?” She asked calmly, but you could hear the edge in her voice. “I’m just washing my hands and coming out, Wands.” You called out, wanting to buy yourself some time to calm down. Your answer however did not seem to satisfy her and you heard the click of the lock, no doubt using her magic and the door opened slowly, your girlfriend walking in. You had made yourself presentable as much as you could, but you knew she could read you like a book, no doubt guessing what you were doing. And it wasn’t hard. Your hands shook, the look in your eyes one of guilt and desperation. “Honey, what were you doing?” She asked softly, stalking towards you like a predator. “Nothing, I just needed a moment.” You tried to say, but had no real excuse. “Don’t lie to me.” Wanda captured you in her arms, pulling you close to her. Her voice was like a growl, her eyes stormy as she stared at you. “You have such loud thoughts, little kitten.” She said, the danger in her voice unmistakable. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” “No, I…” You tried to say, not really sure where this sentence was going to go anyway. “I could hear you all the way downstairs, baby. You have such pretty thoughts in your head when you think of me. So naughty.” She cut you off, trapping you between her body and the cold tiles. Wanda took your hands in hers gently, lovingly, pulling them up and bringing her face close to your fingers. “I can smell your sweet pussy on your fingers.” She said darkly. “Are you going to deny that as well?” “Wanda, I was just…” You tried to explain, knowing there was nothing you could say. “Don’t you dare…” She growled in your face, coming even closer, if that was even possible, every inch of your body pressed against hers. “Mommy will punish you for that when we get home.” She said through her teeth. “I hope that edge was worth it.” With those words she let you go, walking away from you before you could protest. “Don’t take too long.” She called out over her shoulder, before she left you alone in the bathroom. You sighed, feeling more worked up than before, knowing she won’t let you finish, now that she’d caught you and already making your mom wait in the kitchen. Truly, this was a disaster, but you pulled yourself together. You took off your ruined panties, knowing they would be more uncomfortable and you put them in the basket with the rest of the dirty laundry. You tried to dry off as much as you could, then washed your hands and walked downstairs. Helping your mother in the kitchen was a good distraction, keeping you busy and your mind away from inappropriate thoughts of Wanda. It mostly worked, or at least you didn’t feel that terrible need between your legs every second while you loaded the dishwasher, or set the table. It was working until Wanda walked in, wanting to ask if the two of you needed any help. Her presence instantly brought to mind the earlier events and with them, the terrible need between your legs, making you squeeze them together in desperation. Truly, it wasn’t fair that she could turn you into a mess with nothing but her presence, but knowing there was nothing you could do about it currently, you tried your best to ignore it, hoping the woman would leave. Unfortunately, your mother left first, leaving you alone with Wanda and an idea instantly popped into your head. You knew you shouldn’t do it. You knew that an angry Wanda was a force to be reconned with and you were already on thin ice with her from earlier, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted her so badly. You needed her. And if she was going to make you wait, then you were going to make it hard for her too. If she was going to punish you, and she was, there was no doubt in your mind about that, then you would enjoy earning it.   “What can I do?” She asked, stepping closer. “Oh, no, I’m almost done.” You said with a smile. “I just need to grab something.” You explained, leaning over the counter. Your movements were exaggerated, you knew that. You were practically bent over the counter, allowing your skirt to ride up your thighs and move even higher, revealing you wore nothing underneath. You didn’t dare look back at Wanda, but you could feel her eyes on you, drinking you in and you loved it. You knew she absolutely adored having you this way, recalling countless times she’s bent you over, so she could fill you up with her cock. Whenever you had your ass in the air, she would go a little feral, she’d fuck you a little harder and God, did you need that kind of treatment right now. When Wanda saw you, her hands balled into fists and despite her enviable self-control, she started to walk towards you. Knowing that you don’t have the time you needed for the game you started, you straightened just in time to hear your mom walking in as well. Both women stared at you, your mom with her unsuspecting kindness coming to help and your girlfriend, with her jaw clenched at your little display and you gave them a smile as you headed to the dining room, Wanda close behind you and burning holes through your clothes. To her credit, your girlfriend managed to look calm and composed and she plastered a kind smile on her face and she sat down next to you on one side of the table with your parents on the other. You engaged in a conversation quickly, your transgression seemingly forgiven by Wanda, and perhaps you should have left it that way, knowing that the woman had very little tolerance for bratty behaviour, but there was a twisted part of you that loved pulling that out of her. You loved riling her up, not caring for the punishment you’ll receive. And you knew you’ll get exactly what you deserve. But that excited you too.  You loved that Wanda could be so tender, so caring, so sweet, that she would make love to you as if you’re made of glass and pamper you like a princess and you loved when she got rough too, when she held you down and left marks and fucked you senseless, overstimulating you and using you to get off, leaving you a total mess, just so she would take care of you after, even softer and more loving than before. Both equally tempting in your mind. With these thoughts still lingering, you sneaked one of your hands under the table and straight on Wanda’s thigh, your face betraying nothing of what you were doing. You felt her stiffen under you, but to her credit, she remained calm and composed and you took that as a challenge, your fingers drawing circles, until she tried to jerk her leg away from you. Wanda tried to give you a warning glare, her actions subtle, but you ignored her. You were having way more fun than you expected, so your hand soon found her leg again, this time sliding further up, until she was forced to squeeze her legs together, so she could prevent you from cupping her pussy, as you seemingly intended. “Trying to get yourself in more trouble, huh?” You heard Wanda’s voice in your head. She sounded on edge, clearly affected, if she resorted to using her telepathic abilities and you only allowed yourself to smile mildly, while you pretended to listen to your parents. Ignoring her warning you kept going, your hand gliding down the length of her legs, before moving back up, fingers dancing on the insides of her thighs. You getting to rile Wanda up for a change was even more fun than you thought it would be and you mentally committed to the action, even if you knew she’ll make you regret it soon enough. “This is your last warning, baby girl.” You heard her voice in your head again. This time lower, laced with a dangerous note of excitement at the prospect of getting to put you back in your place. “If you stop right now, I’ll even consider being lenient with you.” She promised, although you both knew it was unlikely. For a few moments you considered, but really, it was your father’s voice, pulling you from your thoughts, that made you take your hand and place it back on the table. “What do you say we watch a movie after dinner? I hear Wanda enjoys movies and there’s this new comedy that your mother and I have been meaning to watch.’’ He suggested, looking at the both of you. “That sounds great, dad.” You said with a smile. “It would be lovely.” Wanda agreed and she placed a hand on top of yours, lacing your fingers together as a silent thank you, her features softening. When the meal was finished you helped your mother clear the table and clean up in the kitchen, while your dad insisted Wanda help him set up the movie. You heard him offer her a glass of whiskey as he poured himself one and you couldn’t help but smile at how naturally he seemed to accept her and welcome her. It was his way with you and your friends ever since you were old enough to drink. He never discriminated and actually taught you to drink without grimacing, enjoying to share an occasional glass with you whenever you were home, knowing that you only drank with him. You knew however that Wanda would refuse and he accepted it with a nod of his head as she sat in the big arm chair that he referred to as “his chair” ever since your family owned it, placing his glass on the small table next to it and engaging Wanda in a light conversation as they waited for you and your mom to join them. He had intended to give the woman a speech, tell her that you were one of the most important people in his life and that he does not wish to see you hurt, but he seemed to refrain from it and curiously, Wanda tried to find in his thoughts why, only to understand that it was solely because he seemed to see how much she cared about you too. A bond they shared wordlessly, while they waited. Once all four of you settled, your mom taking a seat next to your dad on another chair, so they can free up the couch for the two of you, you started the movie. It was a light comedy that had all of you laughing and commenting on the foolish actions of the characters. At some point Wanda pulled the small blanket that was placed on the couch and covered you both, allowing you to snuggle closer into her, the way you both loved and feeling the gesture your mom made to your dad, both of them sharing a smile, without saying a thing. The moment seemed peaceful, until Wanda’s hand rested against your thigh, while her eyes remained trained on the TV. She didn’t seem to mean anything by it, but it was enough to spark arousal inside you and you tried to shift uncomfortably, which only brought her hand even closer to where you needed her most, her fingertips resting against bare, smooth flesh. Thoughtlessly, recklessly, you decided to do the same, your hand finding her thigh and starting mindless circles against it, earning you a stern look of disapproval. You gave her a pointed look at her own hand, feeling your pussy twitch involuntarily and she seemed to understand, pulling her hand away to appease you, but the game was already on. The movie was entirely forgotten and you had a single thing in mind. Sex.   By the end of the movie, Wanda didn’t even need to read your thoughts to know what you were thinking of. She could hear those loud thoughts even without her magic. You were driving yourself crazy just thinking of her and you were making it impossible for her to concentrate on anything else as well. With a hard glare and her patience entirely gone, Wanda decided that she would not let you continue to behave like a brat the entire weekend and she quickly formed a plan on how to handle the situation. When the finishing credits rolled your parents excused themselves, bidding you goodnight and she knew she wouldn’t have to wait much longer. “You girls can stay and watch something else if you like.” Your mom offered. “But you know how we are, dear, we like to go to bed at a reasonable hour.” “We’ll probably go up soon, too, mom.” You smiled. “Well, goodnight then girls.” Your dad said with a tired smile, getting up from his chair and coming over to kiss the top of your head, before they both retired to their room. “What do you say Wands, wanna go to bed, or stay and watch another movie?” You asked suggestively, leaning in to kiss her cheek, but being stopped by Wanda’s firm hand on your throat. “Oh, we’re going upstairs.” She practically hissed, her eyes glowing red as they finally met yours. You tried to swallow, a task that proved difficult with a hand wrapped around your neck. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She asked, tilting her head to the side as she took you in. “Yes.” You nodded hopefully. You were practically melting just from this, eyes full of lust and arousal, mind and body surrendering entirely just from the small touch she offered, just from the prospect of being touched and although Wanda wanted to be mad at you for pulling all these stunts, she couldn’t help but feel a sort of warmth inside her, because she knew it was done, so you would get her attention, so you would get to feel her the way you did now. Because you wanted her. And she knew she shouldn’t reward such behaviour, that she should punish you. And letting you stew in your neediness would be a great way of doing that, but she couldn’t ignore that she herself felt so much desire for you. You had awakened a sleeping beast inside her and she wanted nothing more than to devour you whole and she knew the perfect way to do both. “And you think you can always get what you want from me?” She asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “You think that teasing me and acting up will get you what you want?” “No, I…” You try to speak, but you’re quickly cut off. “I don’t want to hear excuses from you.” She whispered dangerously. “Upstairs, now!” She practically ordered and you scurried to obey her. You walked to your room in silence, not wanting to alert your parents and Wanda walked behind you. You could feel her hard eyes on you with every step you took and you practically held your breath until you walked into your room, turning on the lights and hearing her close the door gently. You turned to face her, expecting to be met with more of her harsh words, but you saw only magic instead. She had her arms outstretched and the room glowed with her scarlet magic as it spread to every corner. When she was done, she stalked towards you, capturing you quickly and spinning your body, walking you backwords until your back hit the same door you just came in from. It gave a loud thud and you looked around, scared that the sound could probably be heard throughout the house. “Oh, don’t worry.” Wanda smiled almost cruelly. “I soundproofed this room. No one can hear what happens here.” Her grin widened as she raked her eyes over your body. “I can make you scream all night long and no one will know.” Before you could even respond, Wanda crashed her lips to yours, claiming you in a fiery kiss. When you could finally catch up, you kissed her back, arousal replacing any caution that you might have had. You felt her sure hands run a path down your shoulders, her palms smoothly passing over your chest and massaging your breasts roughly, pulling a strangled moan from your lips that she easily swallowed. She kissed you this way for a long moment, enjoying the way you squirmed, the way you gasped in utter surrender, until it wasn’t enough anymore. In a swift motion, she grabbed both ends of your shirt and pulled roughly, her strong hands tearing the buttons and sending them flying across the room. “I told you not to wear this today.” She reminded as she pulled your ruined shirt open to take a look at your breasts in their pretty pink bra. She held them in her hands, mouth watering at the thought of sucking on your nipples and making you moan, until she remembered that she was meant to be punishing you right now. With a smile she pulled your bra down, the cups folding under your breasts and leaving them exposed in an obscene way. “Get on your knees.” Wanda demanded, her hands pushing against your shoulders, until you obeyed, sinking down to your knees and looking up at her. She unbuttoned her pants with pointed slowness as she looked down to meet your eyes. “You couldn’t help yourself could you?” She asked as she undid the zipper next. “Your pussy is such a needy little thing that it couldn’t stay empty even for a night, right? It was so needy that you couldn’t listen to Mommy even for a day.” She accused, pulling her pants down her legs, exposing her underwear and the wet patch on it. She took them off too, bringing them to your eyes as her wetness glistened under the light. “And you just had to tease me, didn’t you?” She asked as she threw the ruined panties somewhere on the floor. Unsure what to say, or perhaps because some part of you knew it was better if you said nothing at all, you stayed silent for a few seconds as she stared you down and when she didn’t receive a response, magic erupted from her fingers, red tendrils curling around her and starting to take shape that you soon recognized was one of the straps the two of you owned. Magic swirled around it a bit longer and when it disappeared, Wanda watched you gulp as you took the toy in. It was in no way your biggest one, but it was sizable enough and a voice in your head told you where it was going even before Wanda spoke. “You’ve been such a cock-hungry little slut today.’’ She mused as she ran her thumb over your lips, before she pushed it in your mouth, smiling when you took it in eagerly and started to suck, your eyes closing as you savoured the moment. “Begging for it every chance you got. Well, here it is, baby.’’ She growled, taking her cock and guiding it closer to your face with a smirk. “And you better take it all down your throat, or I leave you like this!” She threatened, pulling her thumb out of your mouth and quickly replacing it with the toy. The moment her cockhead entered your mouth you both sighed. Just this caused more wetness to pool between your legs and with no barrier it started to smear across your thighs as you tried to work more of her into your mouth, until she hit the back of your throat. A small, involuntary gag, caused Wanda to moan once more and you wondered if she could feel your mouth around her, she certainly had the power to make it happen if she wanted to. So you decided to test your theory. You pulled off of her cock, until only her tip was inside and you swirled your tongue over it, before taking her back in as deep as you could. Her reaction was instantaneous, a loud moan gracing your ears, followed by one of her hands taking a few strands of your hair to steady you against her. She could definitely feel you. And you wondered if she could have always done that and why she chose to do it now for the first time. “Clever girl.” Wanda praised, realizing that you had discovered what she used her magic for and she started to move with you, building a rhythm that had her throwing her head back. “Let’s see if Mommy’s cock can erase all these thoughts from your head.” She rasped, taking hold of you with her other hand as well and driving her hips forward, until her cock hit the back of your throat again. You tried to keep your mouth open, stifling a small gag and forcing yourself to take her in a little bit deeper. The thought of being left untouched was motivation enough, but the knowledge that she could feel you, that you can please her, make her feel good, make her cum, had you desperate to take her all the way in. Wanda sensed your vigour, felt your excitement and she knew the source of it. She wasn’t even sure which one of you wanted it more at this point, her body shuddering under the immense pleasure of this new feeling she was experiencing. The feeling of your tongue gliding on the underside of her shaft and swirling over her head, your lips tightly wrapped around her as most of her shaft was encased in your wet, warm mouth was unlike any other and she had to hold back from bucking her hips and gagging you even more. And God, she was tempted. “Take a deep breath for me.” Wanda instructed, pulling back to give you a second to comprehend her words and do as you’re told. You tried to nod as much as you could, your chest heaving and your eyes watery as they looked up at Wanda. “God, you look so pretty like this, with your beautiful eyes looking up at me like that.” She admired you openly, her voice growing hoarse as everything inside her screamed to ruin you. She drove her hips forward, her movements deliberately slow and gentle and you knew a deep thrust was coming, so you did your best to keep your mouth open as you felt her drive her cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and making you want to gag, a reflex you tried to hold back as she pushed deeper, stopping an inch from the base of her strap. “Breathe, baby.” She soothed, as she repeated the action a few more times, allowing you to get used to her and the new feeling. “Keep your pretty eyes on me.” She demanded, a hand cupping your cheek. “I want you to look at me.” When Wanda knew you were ready, she pulled back a little, allowing you another deep breath, before she thrust back in, this time not stopping until she felt you take her all the way and she let a deep moan at the feeling of it. “There we go. Who knew you’re such a good little cock-sucker?” She moaned once more, holding you against her, her eyes closing in pure bliss. She could feel your throat constricting in a stifled gag, squeezing her cock deliciously and making her gasp with delight, your struggle only adding to her excitement. Cautiously, she pulled back, allowing you to breathe, taking the toy, which she progressively started to think of as her cock, out of your mouth for a moment as she looked at you, lips swollen and eyes watery, chest heaving as you admired her as much as she did you. “More, please.” You rasped, repositioning yourself, the hardwood floor unforgiving on your knees, but you didn’t care. “You want more, baby girl?” She asked as she stroked your cheek affectionately. “You want Mommy to cum down your throat?” “Yes, please!” You licked your lips subconsciously, mouth watering at the thought that she could do that. That you would taste her. “Good girl.” She praised, taking hold of her cock and guiding it back to your parted lips. “But baby?” She paused making sure she had your full attention. “If you can’t take it all the way down, Mommy will cum on your pretty tits instead and she won’t let you taste even a drop! Understood?” The threat in her voice was clear and you couldn’t believe how much your body responded, hating the prospect of wasting even a drop. You tried to nod, but you knew it wouldn’t be enough for her and you weren’t surprised when she pulled back, so she’d allow you to speak. “Yes, Mommy.” You said with a smile, lips parting as you waited for her to put her cock back in your mouth. She started to move slowly, allowing you to adjust once more as she got closer and closer. She could feel her orgasm building, impossible to ignore as you sucked her eagerly, letting her guide you the way she wanted. Each time her cock sinking deeper, until she could feel you take all of her once more. And as soon as you did, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. She pulled away, allowing you to breathe for a second. “Show me how much you want my cum.” She rasped, thrusting forward and feeling her cock twitch as she started to come. You braced yourself for it, eagerly sucking her as she stilled, not wanting to waste a single drop of her delicious cum, by letting it spill and you watched her throw her head back as her orgasm washed over her, feeling her legs shake under your palms and you reached behind her to support her better. You felt each spurt of white as she moaned in pleasure and you helped her ride it out as best you could, fighting your body as it screamed for air, screamed for you to pull away, but you refused. Not before she was done. Her pleasure was intoxicating, making your own pussy twitch with need and even more wetness to leak out and smear over your entrance and thighs. For a moment there, while Wanda came into your mouth and stood still against you, it seemed that she had calmed. That your earlier transgressions had been forgiven. Her face was serene and relaxed, while she tried to take steady breaths, but as soon as she pulled out and looked down at you, teary eyes trained on her while you tried to let your throat relax and breathe, her rage returned. She picked you up from the floor with a gentle hand, steadying you on your wobbly legs and using her magic to strip you entirely, guiding you to the bed, so she can practically throw you on it. “Get on your hands and knees.” She demands, swiftly following after you and positioning herself behind you. Before you could react, before you had a chance to even comprehend her instructions, she was pulling you up and propping you in the position she required, her impatience obvious. Her hungry eyes zeroed in on the way your back arched, on your ass, that you kept up in the air for her, on your wet pussy and the glistening evidence of your arousal and she had to smirk. You were so ripe for the taking. “Look at that…” She mused, her hands taking hold of you once more, her palms kneading your ass. “You’re all wet.” She said smugly. “Did sucking my cock get you this wet?” She asked as she spread your cheeks to take a better look at you. With your face flushed and your mind starting to melt from the prospect of being fucked, you could hardly say anything. Wanda’s filthy words making their way to your ears and making you blush even more, there was no way you could respond. Unfortunately for you, your silence only infuriated Wanda more and her hands retracted, only for her to land a harsh slap on your ass, pulling a surprised gasp from you. “I asked you a question baby girl.” She said with a stern tone, another slap landing on your other cheek. “If I have to repeat myself, I’ll have to assume that you don’t want to get fucked. Is that the case, honey?” She asked with mocking softness in her tone. “I want to get fucked, please!” You managed to say as you whined a little into the mattress. “I bet you do…” She mused as she ran a finger through your wetness, just to tease you. “You’re so wet. I’ve never seen you this wet before. Is that all from sucking my cock?” She asked once more, retracting her finger and licking it clean. “Yes, Mommy.” You responded softly, your cheeks heating up just from the thought. “Well, if you weren’t such a bad girl today, perhaps you would have gotten what you wanted right now…” She said sternly. “But you just couldn’t wait, could you?” She accused, landing another slap on your ass, watching it turn faint pink. “You had to go and touch yourself!” She growled, each hit growing harder. The skin on her palm stung from spanking you, but she ignored it, letting out her anger as she continued to list your transgressions. “Did you think that I wouldn’t find out? Or did you forget that only I’m allowed to touch that greedy little pussy?” She asked, each sentence a new slap that had you moaning into the mattress. It was the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. “Or maybe you did it to get my attention…” She mused, pausing for a second and using her fingers to tease your entrance again, gliding along your slit and touching your clit briefly, but retracting, before you had a chance to really enjoy the pleasure of it. “What will your family think, I wonder?’’ She asked, resuming her spanking. “What would they say if they saw you today? If they knew you were trying to touch me under the blanket, with them right next to us!’’ She hissed at the memory. “If they saw you wore no panties to their dinner table! That you were showing off your pussy and ass, like a common whore, when they could have walked in at any second!’’ Just the thought had her head spinning. The sound of each slap and each one of your corresponding moans spurring her on more.  “What would they say if they knew you were so hungry for my cock you couldn’t wait till we’re alone?! That you swallowed all my cum and still wanted more. That I’m spanking your ass to punish you, yet your pussy fucking leaks.’’ She continued, pointedly running her fingers through your wetness, circling your clit just to pull away again. “I bet it wants my cock so much. I left you needy this morning, huh? You had to have it that badly.” She growled, your ass turning red by the end of it. “Yes, please!” You finally responded, almost screaming, your hips trying to push into her and get some of the friction you needed. “Mommy, please!” You begged, hoping to soften her. “Next time you want my cock that badly, ask nicely!” “But I did!” You try to protest. You knew that your impatience and neediness had gotten you here, that you had earned your punishment, but you couldn’t help the way your pussy pulsed and twitched with need for her. “Don’t you dare talk back at me after all the stunts you pulled.” Wanda growls, a loud smack reaching your ears before you even felt it. It was the hardest so far and yet, so delicious you moaned. Wanda paused to admire her work, your face flushed, your pussy somehow wetter than before and your ass the perfect shade of red. If she could, she’d take a picture of you right now, so she could remember this moment forever. Satisfied, she teased your pussy once more, a single finger running through your wetness, sometimes stopping at your entrance, as if she would give you what you want and sink inside, only to pull away again. “I shouldn’t even be indulging you right now.” She told you sternly. “I should leave you like this. Teach you a lesson about patience. But if I do, you’ll just spend the night trying to touch yourself.” She said accusingly, the tip of her finger dipping in, before she pulled out again. “And we can’t have that, can we?”   “Please!” You whimpered, your voice a little broken as Wanda continued to tease you. “You’re so pretty when you beg.” Wanda complimented, allowing her finger to dip inside you again, before she retracted it. “Please, Mommy!” You squirmed, your whole body on fire. “Please, what? What should I do, when you’ve been such a bad girl, huh?” She asked as she leaned in closer, her body pressing into you, her cock grazing your thigh and her hands running over your back. “Please, fuck me!” You begged openly, whining when she pulled away from you again. There was a moment of silence between you, a moment when you could almost hear the gears in her head turning, while she was deciding if she was going to give in, or punish you further and you waited with bated breath as she took her time. Eventually her fingers returned, soft and gentle as she explored you and you audibly sighed in relief as she found your clit and circled it slowly. She took her time to do it in a way that left you breathless and desperate for more. When your moans turned to whines of frustration, she retracted shortly, watching fear rise within you at the prospect of being left like this, before she dipped a finger in your entrance. She let it sink in entirely this time, meeting no resistance as you welcomed her. She moved in and out of you with slow precision, dragging out your pleasure even from this, only adding a second finger, when she was satisfied with your desperate state. The delicious stretch that her fingers provided had you moaning, your walls squeezing her in, refusing to let her go even for a second. Had it not been for the soundproof spell she had put on your room, the whole house would have heard you and you were grateful for this small mercy as she quickened her pace, starting to build you up. “My little brat!” She admired you, fingers pumping in even harder. “Has Mommy been soft on you all this time? Perhaps I let you get your way too much.” She added, watching you struggle to speak, struggle to think of something to say. “Or maybe you wanted to be punished. Is that it, little brat?” “No! No, Mommy.” You manage to say through broken moans as she hits an especially sensitive spot inside you. “Is this a good spot, baby?” She asks, hitting it again and watching you almost melt into the mattress. “Are you going to cum all over my fingers?” “Yes, Mommy, please!” You whimper as you get so close, your orgasm about to hit you. To your dismay, she pulls away, leaving you empty and smiling viciously when you whine in frustration. “You don’t deserve it.” She says coldly, flipping you over, so you can face her. She crawls over you like a predator, her eyes fiery and full of emotion. “Luckily for you, I’m in a generous mood.” She adds in a low growl, shifting her weight, so she could prop herself on one arm, the other returning back to your entrance and pushing slowly inside. She angled them as before, hitting that glorious spot within you every time, watching your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. Despite still being angry with you, she couldn’t help but feel a sort of reverence towards you, a sort of internal pull, something deep inside her loving to see your pleasured expression, loving to be the cause of it. And a primal urge to do it over and over again. When you got close again your arms wrapped around her, holding on to her in a way that she adored. You were so precious when you searched for her, arms tightening as if she’d disappear, nails digging into her skin, needing her close. The gesture never failed to warm her heart. “Go on, baby, cum for me, I’ve got you.” She whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck softly and feeling your face nestle against her as you held her even tighter, allowing yourself to finally cum. When your orgasm hit, you practically screamed, body shaking and spasming in pleasure, as powerful waves of it washed over your body. The intensity grew exponentially, surprising even you and you were glad that you had Wanda to hold on to, feeling as if you’d get lost in it without her. She helped you ride it out, whispering soft praises as she moved inside you, revelling in the feeling of your walls pulsing around her fingers and only pulling out when she knew you grew sensitive to her touch. She brought her fingers up, inspecting them with a satisfied grin, before she pried your lips open and pushed her fingers in your mouth, making you clean them off with your tongue, watching your blissed out face. When you let them go with a pop, recovering somewhat, Wanda kissed you deeply, exploring your mouth and getting a taste of you that only fuelled her desire.   “You taste so good, baby girl.” She smiled down at you, mischief in her eyes and she started to descend your body. “So delicious. I just have to try for myself.” She decides, settling between your spread legs and diving straight in. Her tongue swirled over your clit delicately, feeling it twitch under her. She had left it neglected until now and she loved the way you arched your back just from the smallest stimulation on it. She repeated the action slowly, licking a line straight from your opening up to your clit and your long sigh of pleasure was like music to her ears. Loving to tease you, she let her tongue push against your entrance a few times, keeping your legs open with her strong arms and feeling you trying to open them even further. “My greedy little brat.” She spoke roughly, one of her hands slapping your thigh, before she took it away. Her fingers found their way back inside you before you even had a chance to respond and she focused her efforts back on your clit, the intensity of it taking your breath away. Your back arched as you silently took everything she was giving you, feeling overwhelmed in the best possible way. “Mommy!” You moaned when her fingers curled inside you, building your next orgasm quickly. She wasted no time in swirling her tongue over your clit in delicious circles, knowing how much you loved the feeling. As the pleasure grew more intense, you couldn’t help but wish that you could stay in this moment, but your body didn’t listen, climbing higher and getting closer to the edge and Wanda was delighted. She kept hitting that same spot determined to have you cry out for her again and from the looks of it, it wouldn’t take long. “Mommy, I’m so close!” You squirmed, almost pulling away from her, but she wouldn’t let you. Your fingers laced in her hair almost instinctively, needing to touch her, to feel close to her, the muscles in your body tightening as you reached the edge. The feeling of it wasn’t sudden, you knew it was coming, yet you weren’t prepared for how intense it would be, or how powerfully the orgasm that followed would affect you. It started at the pit of your stomach, spreading over your entire body like a tidal wave, quickly taking over all your senses, until all you could feel was pleasure. Wanda’s tongue felt like it was brushing against all the best spots at once, and her fingers moved deep inside you, making your legs tremble, helping you ride it all out. The feeling of it was so deeply satisfying, that you didn’t want it to ever end. When it did, you practically melted, your chest heaving as you tried to breathe through your high, feeling Wanda crawl over you with a grin on her face. “That was amazing.” You said, your eyes closed and clearly thinking she was done with you. “Good.” She practically purred, leaning down to kiss you, her tongue easily invading your mouth and letting you taste yourself once more. She hovered above you for a few seconds, admiring the calm content on your face, your attention so focused on her eyes that you didn’t even notice when one of her hands sneaked between your bodies, taking hold of her cock, until she was lining it up with your entrance. “Oh my God!” You took a deep breath, waiting for the moment she would fill you, your words morphing into gasps as she stretched you, bottoming out in one smooth motion. “Did you think we’re done, little brat?” She asked as she lets you adjust to her. Every part of her screamed at the urge to just fuck you, overwhelmed by the indescribable feeling of being inside you. “After what you did today, I’m not stopping, until you’re so fucked out, you can’t even scream anymore.” She practically growled, pulling out half-way, so she could thrust inside you again. She couldn’t help herself. This truly was unlike anything she’d ever felt and she wondered why it took her so long to try. Getting to fuck your mouth and cum down your throat was spectacular, yes, but being inside you was heavenly. Your walls were hugging her tightly, squeezing and pulsing around her, your wet pussy welcoming her. This is where she belonged, where she wanted to stay, snugly nestled deep inside you and feeling every shudder, every tremble and twitch as she fucked you, getting to swallow all your moans as she kissed you deeply. “Fuck! You feel so good.” She grunted, thrusting even harder, her pace gradually building, causing surges of pleasure every time she bottomed out. “Such a tight little pussy.” She murmured to herself, thinking she might not last with the way you felt. You tried to meet her thrusts, your body caught between wanting to cum and already feeling overwhelmed, but she wouldn’t let you. Her strong arms held you down, forcing you to spread your legs even more, so she could hit an even deeper spot inside you. She took both your wrists, pinning them above your head and staring you down, as if daring you to defy her. She was nowhere near done with you and she wasn’t going to let you think that she had so easily forgiven you. After all, she still needed to teach you a lesson. “Mommy.” You whine, your pretty eyes looking up at her and pleading for something you couldn’t voice. “Does it feel good, sweetheart?” She asks, watching you arch your back and snapping her hips, pulling a gasp from you. “Feels so good, yes!” You manage between small moans. “Show me.” She demands, rolling on her side and taking you with her, until suddenly you were on top and she was smirking at you. “Ride that cock.” She instructed smugly, her hands starting to guide your hips. You tried to take it slow, but Wanda wouldn’t let you, pushing you to match the rhythm she had previously set, watching your breasts bounce above her. She was so deep inside you at this angle, her eyes devouring the way you moved. In the heat of the moment you reached down to play with your nipples, forgetting yourself, until she pushed them away harshly. “Put your hands behind your back.” She instructed, catching the momentary hesitation in your eyes. “Don’t make me do it for you.” She warned and you did as you’re told, intertwining your fingers behind you and feeling her magic envelop them in invisible ropes. “These are mine to play with, remember?” She smirked, reaching up to roll your nipples between her fingers, pulling even more moans from you as your hips stuttered for a moment. Wanda made you ride her like this, enjoying the way you teased yourself, your pace too slow to take you over the edge. Your little frustrated moans and whimpers only made it sweeter. She could admire you like this for hours, if it wasn’t for her own orgasm that kept building and growing, until she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it back for much longer. That’s when her hands gripped your hips, guiding you to move faster, her own hips joining your efforts and meeting you half way, driving her cock deeper than she’s ever been, pulling a series of loud moans from you, your head thrown back. “How does that cock feel, baby girl?” She panted. “So good!” You whined, breathless. “I’m so full.” “Oh, you have no idea, honey.” Wanda smirked, feeling you squeezing her cock. “Wait till Mommy pumps you full of her cum. Then you’ll be really full.” She promised in a growl, her hips picking up their speed. “Oh my God, please!” You rasped, your walls twitching with anticipation. “Yeah? You want it? Are you going to keep it inside, baby? Mommy will be very disappointed if you waste it.” “I’ll keep it.” You promised in a daze, knowing you were on the edge and seconds away from falling off it. “Please, just let me cum, please.” You begged, feeling that tightening that signalled your orgasm. “You wanna cum all over Mommy’s cock, honey?” She teased, knowing you’re so close and feeling herself ready to explode. “Please, please, please!” You whined, about to do it, regardless if she allowed it or not and bracing yourself. “You can cum. Go on, cum with me.” She encouraged, delivering one final thrust and burying herself as deep inside you as he could. The orgasm that washed over her body was unlike anything she’d ever felt. Wave after wave in rapid succession, each one more satisfying than the last. Your pussy was squeezing her tightly through it, pulsing and milking her cock, hungry for every drop of her cum. Enveloped in you, she felt bliss and she wanted to prolong it as much as possible, thrusting inside you in irregular motions, until she was spent. Above her, you were lost in your own little world of pleasure, head thrown back, with your hair falling behind you in waves as you came. You could feel the ropes of cum as she filled you up, felt the way your pussy spasmed as you came, each twitch a new surge of orgasmic bliss as you fell apart. Distantly, you could hear Wanda moan below you, felt her fingers digging into your flesh as she held on to you and it only made it better, her thrusts only stopping when you both couldn’t take anymore. “Fuck!” She cursed, helping you to get off of her and laying you on the bed. You felt her get up and had you been more coherent, you might have questioned why she didn’t release your arms, still tied behind your back, but as it was, you could hardly even think. Wanda got off the bed in a slow, lazy motion, admiring your spent body and the way you panted. In your helpless state and with her cum leaking out of your pussy, you looked even more fuckable and a sense of primal desire took over her. She took hold of your ankles and pulled you down, towards the edge of the bed, until your feet touched the floor and you were left bent over the bed. In a swift motion, you felt Wanda spread your legs more, opening you up to her, so she could have a better look at you. Another drop of her cum leaked out of you, pulled down by gravity, until Wanda stopped it with a finger and pushed it back in, pulling a surprised gasp from your throat. She watched the way her finger disappeared inside you and you moaned in frustration, feeling overstimulated and needy at the same time. “Didn’t I tell you to keep my cum inside?” She questioned from above you, her eyes turning dark again. A fact that would have brought more alertness to you if you had seen it. “Such a bad girl. Defying Mommy all day…” “Mommy…” You moaned, not really sure what to say. “That’s ok, sweetheart. Mommy will just have to fill you up again.” She explained in a low, soothing tone, lining up her cock with your entrance once more. “Mommy, I’m so sensitive.” You tried to protest, feeling her tip gathering your wetness and the stray drops of her cum, involuntarily pulling away from the contact as it brought another jolt of overstimulation. “Oh no, don’t you try to squirm away from me.” She hissed, taking hold of you, firm and unwavering. “You’ve been begging me to fuck you all day. Parading yourself for me, teasing me, so I would drag you back here.” She said through her teeth. “You asked for this, now you’re going to take it. Isn’t that right?” She asked, her hand landing harshly on your ass and reminding you of the earlier spanking you had received. “Yes, Mommy.” You nod eagerly, feeling excited, despite how overworked your body felt. You loved it when she got like this. When she left behind her inhibitions and took what she wanted. “Go on, beg me to fuck you.” Wanda commanded, pushing the tip of her cock inside you and watching you gasp just from this. “Please, Mommy, fuck me.” You begged, anticipation building inside you and culminating in a deep thrust that buried her entire strap inside you. You moaned together, Wanda feeling a little overstimulated herself, but ignoring it, focusing entirely on the way your fists clenched at the feeling of her bottoming out. There really was nothing quite like it and she revelled in it. She remained pressed up against you, letting you feel the entirety of her length, while she ran her hands over your back and shoulders soothingly, bringing a sense of calmness and comfort. The sensation of her being still inside you was oddly arousing, a kind of teasing you hadn’t experienced before and you made an effort to move in your limited range of motion, only for her to snap her hips forward and pin you in place. “Oh my God!” You groaned. “Impatient, aren’t you, little kitten?” She smirked, pulling back and burying her entire length in you again. “Mommy, please!” You whined, incapable of escaping from her merciless, deep thrusts. “Oh, what’s the matter, baby? You were begging for my cock, now it’s too much for you, huh?” Before you can answer, another thrust came, making any words die in your throat, replaced by moans and whimpers. Her movement was calculated, using slow, deep thrusts that forced you to feel the entirety of her. Somehow her cock seemed bigger to you now, filling you to the brim and pushing out all thoughts, all feelings that weren’t her. Gradually, she started moving faster, building a rhythm, her hands on your hips, holding on to you tightly. Your mouth had fallen open at this point, small pants and whimpers leaving you as you tried to take everything she was giving you. It was both too much and not enough, leaving you trapped between a haze of lust and overstimulation. Watching you like this, Wanda couldn’t help herself. She reached a hand, taking a fistful of your hair and guiding you up, her other hand wrapping around you to support you. She nuzzled her face in your shoulder, leaving kisses and bites there while she fucked you. “Fuck, Mommy!” You moaned, calling out to her. “Hush, little kitten.” She silenced you quickly, the hand she had around you reaching up, two of her fingers finding their way into your mouth. “There you go. Suck on Mommy’s fingers.” She soothed, her hips picking up their speed. The dirtiness of it all did not escape you, yet you couldn’t help but open your mouth more, accepting her fingers to the knuckles, your tongue lapping at them, mirroring the way you had sucked her cock earlier. “That’s right. My dirty little girl.” She praised with a smile. When they were nice and wet, she pulled them out, smirking at the needy whines of protest you let out. “What’s the matter, honey? You miss having Mommy down your throat?” She almost mocked, her wet fingers tweaking your nipples, before trailing down and settling between your legs. “Maybe when I’m done fucking your sweet little pussy, I’ll put you back on your knees.” She suggested, parting your folds and settling her fingers on your clit, rubbing it in small circles.   The filthy insinuation of her words only heightened the feeling of pleasure inside you, your orgasm building. Her thrusts were relentless, now almost rough and demanding. She could feel you respond to her dirty talk, your walls clenching around her at the thought of being used more. Wanda could tell you were close, the knowledge spurring her on. She wanted to watch you fall apart. She added a little pressure to the way she rubbed your clit, her hips slapping against your every time she slammed her strap inside you, her other hand leaving your hair and settling across your chest, palming one of your breasts. She pinched the nipple, rolling it and she pulled you as close to her as she could, so she could leave sloppy kisses across your neck. “Mommy I’m so close!” You almost screamed, feeling her everywhere, practically surrounded by Wanda. “I know, baby…” She moaned against you. “You can cum.” She whispered. Her fingers tightened around your breast, bracing herself for the moment you’ll let go, her senses attuned to every small sign. She felt it as it started, your body stiffening, even your moans dying down as you reached the edge, but Wanda fucked you right through it, right up until the moment you moaned out her name and started to fall apart. Your pussy gripped her cock, pulsing around her, coaxing her to come with you. The feeling of your pleasure was so sweet and enticing, your pleading soft, whimpers an invitation she couldn’t resist, so she obliged your body’s demand, drawing out your pleasure with stuttering thrusts. Her fingers continued to circle your clit steadily, heightening every small wave of orgasmic bliss, enjoying the way each twitch of your pussy would add to her own pleasure, until you finally came down from your high and she held your shaking body against her, enjoying the aftershocks that surged through both of you, placing small kisses on your neck and shoulders. When you had calmed, she released your hands, helping you climb into bed, before using her magic to take off the harness and the attached dildo and settling next to you into bed. “Learned your lesson, baby?” She asked teasingly, pulling you against her, letting you settle on her chest and wrapping her arms around you. “I don’t know… I enjoyed that quite a lot.” You teased her back, a smile plastered on your face. Tired and knowing you probably couldn’t take anymore, Wanda let it slide, letting you fall asleep, her own breaths evening out as she thought of everything that happened.                                                                                          *             *             * The next morning came sooner than you hoped for, feeling tired and wishing you could sleep in, but you knew you shouldn’t. You turned to stop your alarm, but hit the snooze instead, huffing in disapproval and lying back down. Wanda usually woke up before you, she certainly never missed an alarm, so when you didn’t feel her stir, you settled, grateful to have a few more minutes, pressing your back to her front and feeling her arms pulling you towards her until there was no space between you. “Good morning, my love.” She whispered in your ear. “Good morning, love.” You whispered back, feeling her hand run down your arm and continuing its path across your sides and down your legs. Involuntarily, you closed your eyes, your backside pressing into her at the intimate, gentle feeling. “Look at you…” Wanda gasped, her voice filled with awe and admiration. “So beautiful.” She whispered against your ear, her voice still rough from sleep, sending a shiver down your spine. “So soft.” She muttered, her tongue tracing your lobe. “So sweet and tender.” She murmured, entranced by the feeling of having you in her arms. Wanda could stay here for an eternity and never get tired of it. You were everything she needed or wanted. Unfortunately, your alarm went off again and you huffed, hating to pull away to stop it. “We’ll have to get up.” She reminded, propping herself up on one elbow and watching you pout at her. “Can’t we stay in and cuddle a little?” You asked, pulling her arm towards you. “Just a few minutes.” You pleaded, but Wanda could see that spark in your eyes. She knew that glint of mischief, that smile, which meant that you wanted so much more than just cuddles. “We should go downstairs for breakfast.” She tried to remind you, but you weren’t listening. You nestled yourself against her, pushing up your butt into her front like an offering, guiding her arm around you and pulling it up to your face, your lips wrapping around her middle finger before she could stop you, pulling a surprised moan from her throat.   “I prefer having you in my mouth.” You stated, pulling her finger out of your mouth just long enough to say it and putting it back, sucking it in deeper. “Careful, dear.” She warned, despite entertaining you and moving her finger in and out of your mouth suggestively. “Don’t you remember what happens to naughty little girls?” “I enjoyed that.” You managed to say, before taking her wrist and guiding her hand, so you could take her finger up to the knuckle. The challenge in your voice did not escape Wanda and she raised an eyebrow at you, watching the side of your face, but you seemed unbothered, sucking onto her finger happily. “I should think of a better punishment then?” She suggested, pulling out her finger and offering you two, which you happily took, whining a little around them and pressing up your butt into her. Wanda indulged you for a few moments longer, letting you get her fingers nice and wet, before she took them away, immediately reaching between your legs and tracing your entrance, to find it wetter than her fingers. “Why punish me, Mommy? We had so much fun…” You tried to argue and while you were too busy trying to grind on the fingers she offered, you missed the swirling red magic that sparked from them. “Because you didn’t learn you lesson.” Wanda’s voice hardened and before you could question it, you felt the tip of her strap pressing into you. She rubbed it against you, getting it wet with your juices while you let out a deeply satisfied sigh at the feeling, happily expecting the moment she’ll enter you and you didn’t have to wait long. In a smooth motion, she buried herself inside you, quickly reminded of how good it felt. The angle was a little awkward at first, but she quickly adjusted, driving her cock in and out of you slowly, allowing herself the moment of enjoyment. She played with your clit right from the start, wanting to get you there quickly, whispering in your ear the entire time.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So tight around me.” She praised, kissing your shoulder, making love to you slowly. She could feel you grinding against her, wanting her to move faster, fuck you harder, but she was determined to keep her movements slow and teasing. Every time you’d try to push yourself against her, she’d stop, burying herself fully inside you and feeling your insides twitch with need and anticipation, squeezing around her cock in a silent plea for more. There was something spectacular about getting to tease you this way, something that brought her a deep sense of fulfilment that went beyond pleasure, or sex. The knowledge that you were hers to play with, hers to tease and fuck, hers to do with as she wished. Her precious little brat. “Mommy, please, don’t tease me.” You begged and to your surprise Wanda obliged you, her hips moving faster against you, her fingers adding more pressure to the way they circled your clit, giving you exactly what you wanted. “Like that, honey? That’s what my pretty girl needs?” She asked softly, kissing and biting your shoulder some more. “Just like that. I’m getting so close.” You practically whined, melting into her hands. “I know, baby. Mommy is close too. She’s about to fill you up with so much cum.” She promised sweetly, her face buried in your neck. “You want that, don’t you, baby?” “Yes, Mommy, I want that so much.” You mewled, getting even closer, feeling that edge approaching and leaving you full of giddy anticipation. “I want to cum with you.” Wanda only hummed, her thrusts getting sloppy and desperate as she felt herself on the edge. She could feel you were close too, almost there. You needed a few seconds longer, but she wasn’t about to give them to you. In a swift motion, her hand moved away from your clit, capturing your arm as a precaution, before allowing herself to let go, her orgasm taking over as she herd you whine at the realization that she wasn’t going to let you cum, but use you for her own pleasure instead. You felt the spurts of cum as she came deep inside you, your pussy reaching the edge, but needing a little more to fall over it. She had timed it perfectly, taking her hand away at the best moment, to make sure that her stuttering thrusts wouldn’t be enough for you. In fact, they only teased you more. Your whines and mewls of protest fell on deaf ears as she rode out the waves of pleasure surging through her body. When she was done, sighing against you with satisfaction, she pulled out, turning you over, so you could lie on your back and using her magic to pin your wrists above your head. With a flick of her wrist, the strap on disappeared and she looked down at you with a devious smirk on her face. You wanted to protest, you wanted to beg actually, plead with her to let you cum, but you knew she wouldn’t, so you kept your mouth shut, struggling against her bonds in a futile attempt to get away from them as she watched you in your frustration. She extended her arm, making sure you could see it well, before magic erupted from her fingers, swirling around them and concentrating above her palm, the thick ropes of red hiding the object she was conjuring until it was ready and it fell on her open palm for you to see. “You know where this is going, don’t you?” She asked with a smirk, letting you examine the small jewelled butt plug she held, the deep red colour of the gem matching her scarlet magic. “Words, darling. I need you to speak to me right now.” She coaxed in a gentle, soothing tone. You knew you could refuse, knew that Wanda was giving you this time to do it if you wanted to and for a moment you struggled to decide. The problem was, your body had decided for you. A fresh wave of arousal had washed over you at the sight of it, your pussy twitching with anticipation, even though you knew this will tease you more than help the need burning inside you. “Yes, Mommy.” You managed to say, meeting her eyes. “I hope that spending the morning with your ass plugged will help you remember to behave yourself.” She smiled, the toy still held up to your eyes. As you watched her, anticipation coursing through both of you, her lesson finally sunk in. You’d think twice, before challenging her or acting up next time. _______________________________________________________ I'm so excited about this fic and I can't wait to hear what you guys think! Disclaimer: The gif is not mine, I will happily give credit if i knew who made it.  If you liked this story and you want more, this fic now has a part 2: Face the consequences

[sunny-and-moonbow]

A Night To Remember

Fumikage Tokoyami x Shy Alt Reader

Word count: 1279

Warnings: self depricating thoughts, pining, reader being excluded/ avoided, general fluff, reader is gender neutral

Summary: You've had a crush on your feathered schoolmate for over 2 years, what happens when you run into each other at a concert. Inspired by @faulty-writes Tokoyami x Goth Reader headcannon.

Many people overlooked the feathered hero in training, setting their sights on the flashier students such as Bakugo and Midoriya. But you had your sights set on the quiet, dark boy. His fascinating quirk, his laid back attitude.

As a member of general studies, there weren’t many chances for you to talk to him. Not that you would be able to anyway, having been a stuttering mess the first and last you’d tried to talk to him in the hallways, asking him to move so you could get past. Even if you could talk to him, why would a future pro hero want someone like you, not even nobel enough to try out for the hero course.

He was so amazingly unique and interesting and you were just you, who gets shunned by your classmates for the way you dress, accessorise your uniform and even the music you listen to. You had to buy heavy duty headphones to listen to your music in the dorms without getting dirty looks and angry visits from your classmates telling you to ‘turn that shit off’ no matter how quiet it was playing. You know for a fact that you watch the same show as a few of them, having overheard them talking about it but been too anxious to interrupt, afraid of being judged. They weren’t mean per say, but they were always a little standoffish with you, like they expected you to pounce on them at any moment. You were able to work civilly on group projects, but they never tried to connect with you like they did with each other, and you were too nervous to start the conversations on your own.

The first time you saw Tokoyami was in the sports festival in your first year, watching with awe as he kept his team in the running during the cavalry battle and how well he had fared in the one on one battles. His quirk fascinated you, the gorgeous abyssal creature that resided within him, dark shadow, was so complex in nature. All you wanted was to sit and listen to Tokoyami tell you all the details of his companion and how his quirk worked.

But alas, you could never work up the courage to talk to him, and there's no way he would have noticed you during the sports festival, your healing quirk being useless against the robotic enemies and placing you as one of the last to finish and immediately eliminated. 

The last thing you expected was to run into him at a concert, dressed for the occasion in a singlet with frayed sleeves, patch pants and a spiked choker with matching wrist cuffs to complete the look. You had waited out front of the venue for hours to get a close spot on the floor, one of your top ten bands finally visiting your state, the lead up to the concert was agonising, time passing as slower than ever. You had your outfit mapped out the second you had bought the tickets, anxiously awaiting your chance to see them play live at last. Your eyeliner had taken you over an hour, your trembling hands having made getting a smooth shape nearly impossible.

It took you a moment to get your jaw off the floor, realising that he probably wouldn’t remember you from your one interaction and would think you were just some creepy loner who only came to gawk at all the attractive concert attendees. All the blood drained from your face when he made eye contact with you, immediately rushing straight back to your cheeks, you silently prayed that your makeup would hide your blush, but the slight twitch at the edges of his beak tells you otherwise. You quickly avert your eyes to the ground, avoiding that piercing stare and instead becoming suddenly very interested in the tips of your shoes. Your soul leaves your body when you feel a hand rest on your shoulder, whipping your head up to see Tokoyami. Just centimetres away from you. Touching you.   

You could faint.

His hand slides off your shoulder, having successfully gained your attention.

‘Hello’

‘...Hi’

You shakily respond.

Before either of you can say anything else, the lights dimmed, indicating the opener was beginning their set. You both eagerly turn, you forgetting any self-consciousness at the exciting prospect of hearing music you love around people that also love it. The movement of the crowd shoves you into his side, and him into yours. Both choosing to just accept the circumstance, as it is part of concert culture, and continue screaming your throats raw. 

By the end of the opener you were loosened up and excitedly babbling at him about how amazing they were and how exciting it all was while he just smiled and the great contrast from the half an hour ago. His staring brought you back to earth, stammering out the end of your sentence about how cool the band outfits were, conscious of the fact that you were talking to the guy you have had a raging crush on for the past two years and never spoken to.

‘[Reader]? Right?’

‘Uhh yeah.. Yeah! That's me!’

You tried, and failed, to respond normally. How did he know your name? Why does he know it? Did he hear the rumours about you? Does he already have a tainted view of you? Was any chance you may have had with him already gone? What if he told everyone at school that you were some weirdo that stared at him and couldn't talk to him norma-

‘I’m Tokoyami Fumikage.’

‘I know…I mean, like I remember you from the sports festivals…and..all that.’

Shit. You were blowing this majorly. He was so cool and you were acting so lame. A ridiculous stuttering mess.

‘I see, that’s good then.’

‘Um, yeah…how are you liking-’

Your attempt at communicating was interrupted by the main band finally beginning to play. Your attention instantly shifts away from Tokoyami and onto the large elevated stage, missing the way his eyes linger on you, soft smile on his beak. You push onto your tiptoes to peer around the mass of heads and phones obscuring your view.

After the lengthy experience of leaving the venue, you and Tokoyami file in with the crowds to the train station, ambling along and engaging in quiet and short, but sweet and reminiscent conversation that you know you’ll wish you savoured more after the night ends. 

As you try not to fall asleep in your seat, your head lulls from side to side with the sway of the train. It was a miracle you had snagged a seat at all and you didn’t want to risk missing your stop. In your delirious sleepy state you barely register the large hand that guides your head to the side, urging it to rest on his shoulder. 

‘I’ll wake you at your stop’

That's all it takes for you to turn your body towards him and push your forehead into the crook of his neck.

As promised, he shakes you awake as the train pulls away from the stop before yours, allowing you the chance to wake up enough to walk without stumbling.

As the doors open, you reluctantly stand from your cosy spot. Making a split second decision, you bend over and place a chaste kiss against the side of his beak, spinning on your heels and speeding out of the train just in time before the doors shut. You were definitely never forgetting tonight. 

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn’t been so nervous around him at school, you would have seen the way he looked at you.

A/n-this one was so fun to write!-sunny🧡🌞

Masterlist

[boozenboze]

hello 😸 can your write 141 w male reader who’s usually big and cold and during training, trainees see how dangerous and mean he is but don’t know that w the team he’s a snuggly sleepy guy☹️

Cuddle Pile

Tf 141 x Male reader

Females She/Her She/They DNI

Looking good L/n!” A soilder yelled out as M/n stared down his opponent. One of the recruits decided he wanted to fight the biggest person on base. You may be thinking Ghost, but tou would be wrong. M/n was taller than Ghost and because he was one of the biggest people on the base, the recruit chose you.

Bad decision

“Get ready!” Soap yelled out while keeping his arm raised. M/n glare had gotten harder, which made the recruit nervous.

“Get set!” The next shout made M/n get bend down slightly, indicating that he was about to rush the recruit. The people watching already knew how this was about to end.

“Go!” Soap yelled out and with that M/n was gone. The male took a flash step before hooking the recruit in the ribs. The man could only gasp in shock when his body was lifted, then suddenly slammed onto the ground. M/n backed away, examining the man in case he actually got up.

The fight was over, as to be expected. The recruit had to go to the infirmary due to him gaining a broken a rib. M/n watched as he was carried to the infirmary and turned around to look at Soap with his sleepy eyes. He slowly walked up to him before wrapping his arms around the Scottish mans waist, sighing as he closed his eyes.

“Aye mate, you really wiped the floor with em.” Soap laughed as M/n pulled away. The male stared Soap down before leaving the area, wanting to go find Ghost.

“M/n can you let go.” Ghost groaned in annoyance as he tried to get out the mans hold. Ghost had been working on some paperwork and M/n dragged him out his office and into the living room where he was now laying on the Brits stomach. Being in the h/c haired males arms was a comforting feeling, so instead of continuing to try and get the male off of him he decided to relax.

M/n had woken up due to him being thirsty, so he got up and went to the kitchen. Upon walking into the kitchen, he ran into Gaz who hadn’t been paying much attention. You could imagine the look on his face when he felt arms wrapped around his waist. He would’ve gave the perpetrator a hit to the ribs if he hadn’t noticed the muscles on the mans arms.

“Hi Kyle...”M/n spoke tiredly as the brown skinned man blushed in response. Your voice was a bit deeper than usual due to you just waking up. Kyle took a sip of water out of the bottle he had, to which M/n gently took it out his hands and drank from it himself. M/n bent down and picked up Gaz by his thighs. The man let out a noise of disapproval as M/n brought him to where he and Ghost had been resting. Gaz grunted when M/n put all his weight onto him, but sighed in content after getting comfortable. Soap and Price who had came into the room a few minutes before watched the scene play out and Soap pouted. He wanted to be part of the cuddle pile, so he waltzed over to them and was about to lay over on Gaz until M/n stood up.

He had put Kyle to the side and retreated back to his room, and when he came back he had blankets and pillows. He threw them all to the floor before spreading them out and laying down. Gaz stood up and layed next to M/n, head on his chest as he huffed. Soap did the same thing, though he wrapped his arms around the bigger man.

Ghost had woken up and saw the small cuddle pile, so abruptly he joined in. He layed his head on the mans stomach as Soap looked down and smirked at him. The Brit rolled his eyes before shutting them, feeling more relaxed around the gentle giant known as M/n.

Price just left his office after scolding a recruit snd was now going to get some tea. After making his tea, he walked into the living room and almost tripped over Ghosts leg. He examined his team and sighed before sitting his tea down on a table. The captain then sat down next to M/n’s legs before resting his head on his thighs. This was about to be one of the best naps all of them have had in a while.

[newtthetranswriter]

Could I request Spencer Reid x male reader where the reader is a baker at a bakery that Spencer goes to every morning and they dance around each other before the reader musters the courage and kisses him spender is all nervous and the reader thinks he fucked up but Spencer kisses his worries away?

Word Count: 1723

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Male! Baker! Reader

Warning: canon typical violence, takes place when Spencer is shot in the leg

A/n: Hello and once again thank you for the requests, I have enjoyed writing all of them. I hope this lives up to expectations, after all i did make you wait forever for it to be finished. Anyways, as always enjoy and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

   Spencer had started going to this little bakery on the way to work every morning for the last couple of months. If anyone had asked him why he would definitely not say it was because of the handsome baker who helps him every day and makes him feel welcome. It’s definitely not because said baker checks on him everytime he comes back from a case and gives him a free pastry because ‘they had extra’. No it was not because he got butterflies every time the baker returned his random facts with his own about baked goods. No Spencer just liked supporting small local businesses. Denial aside, Spencer really did enjoy his daily visits to the bakery. It was a good little constant in his hectic routine. 

   Y/n also enjoyed Spencer’s daily visits. Having worked at the bakery for quite some time it was only natural for him to have picked out a favorite regular, his just happened to be the brown haired doctor who works for the FBI. It was a bright part of his day when the tall man came to the shop and gave random facts about coffee or baked goods, while Y/n prepared the order.

   The friendship between baker and regular customer is normally just that. A baker who likes to make their customers feel welcome and a regular who enjoys said baker’s small talk. But for these two it quickly became something a little more. Small talk about where Spencer had gone on his latest case and how Y/n decided running a bakery was his dream, turned to slightly longer conversations about other aspects of their lives. Spencer voicing his worries for his mother and Y/n talking about some stupid thing a family member had gotten mad about.

   As their friendship grew, so did the longing in both of their hearts. Neither man was sure what the other felt about him, so it was left to glances and subtle flirting. Well subtle flirting from Y/n’s side of things, Spencer wasn’t great with flirting. Either way they both fell into a routine of dancing around their true feelings, not wanting to ruin the calm mornings they spent together when Spencer wasn’t away on cases.

   This dance of theirs went on for a few months, Y/n trying to get Spencer to realize he was interested by giving him free pastries and Spencer being clueless. Spencer may not have realized what Y/n was doing but he also was trying to show interest in his own way. His random daily facts had gone from the usual comments about how or why people make certain treats, to details that pertain more to the romantic side of things. Y/n just thought Spencer had run out of his usual facts and that the ones he was using now, were just what he had left. Both men were clueless and to anyone who saw from an outside point of view they both looked hopeless.

    Everything finally changed one day. There wasn’t anything particularly different about the day, at first. What was different was instead of the normal lanky doctor walking through the doors right as the bakery opened, a blonde woman with funky glasses walked in instead. This wouldn’t have been weird had she not looked like there was something wrong and walked up to the counter looking around frantically.

   “Um excuse me, I’m looking for Y/n Y/l/n.” The woman asked.

   Having heard the woman speak, Y/n walked from the back where he was prepping some pastries for the oven. Wiping his hands on his apron, Y/n greeted the blonde with a gentle smile. “Hello, I’m Y/n. What can I help you with?” He asked hoping that it was something he could get sorted and not take too long on, after all he just assumed this was an unhappy customer coming to complain.

   “Um, Hi. I’m Penelope Garcia, I work with Spencer at the FBI.” The woman explained. Hearing that she was one of Spencer’s coworkers, Y/n had to fight down the rush of worries that clouded his mind.  “Before you freak out he’s okay, well he was shot but he’s okay. Anyway he just told me that you would be expecting him and that someone needed to let you know he was okay.” The blonde explained.

    Taking a moment to process the information, Y/n decided that he needed to see for himself that Spencer was in fact ok. “Could I go see him?” It was the only question Y/n could think of to get his point across. 

     Penelope smiled at him, before nodding. “Yeah of course I was going to go up and keep him company for a little bit, so if you want to, you can come with me.” She offered quickly. Penelope was one of the only people Spencer told about Y/n and his feelings for him, so she figured he would be fine with Y/n tagging along to check on him.

     “I would appreciate that, thank you.” Y/n answered, then he turned to one of his employees who was nearby. “Would you mind watching the shop for a bit? I should be back later.” He asked while taking off his apron. Receiving an affirmative answer, he proceeded to grab quickly finished making the cup of coffee he always had ready for Spencer every morning, along with one for Penelope and himself. On his way out he also managed to grab a few pastries Spencer would enjoy.

     The ride to the hospital was a mix of awkward silence and Penelope trying to get Y/n to relax a little bit. The tech wizard asked questions about the bakery and how Y/n enjoyed working there. Y/n answered all her questions but it didn’t take a profiler to know his mind was on the well being of one Dr. Reid.

     Once they finally arrived Y/n had to hold himself back from just rushing through the hospital in search of Spencer. Luckily Penelope was quick to have him follow her to the Dr.’s room. Knocking on the door, hearing a quiet ‘come in’ Penelope opened the door slowly. “Hey Boy wonder, how’s your leg doing?” She asked, holding back her smile at the fact she was hiding something from the man.

     “It’s fine, going to take some time until I’m able to walk again, but good with all things considered.” Spencer answered honestly. Finally looking up at his friend he noticed two things were off. One she was still standing near the door and two she was holding a very familiar to-go style coffee cup. Figuring the coffee was just from her stopping to inform Y/n about what happened, he chose to ask about the more obvious thing. “Why are you standing by the door like that?” He asked, head tilted to the side in confusion.

    Finally letting the smile she was holding back take over her face, she stepped aside. “Well, I made a stop at your favorite bakery and picked up something for you.” She explained enjoying watching the look of confusion deepen before morphing into a surprised look upon seeing Y/n standing there holding two coffees and a box of what he could only assume to be pastries.

   “Hey Spencer, I was worried when Penelope told me you had been shot. She said it was fine but I just needed to see for myself that you were really ok.” The baker rambled as he approached the side of the hospital bed. “ I asked if I could come see you and when she offered to bring me with her to see you I jumped at the chance. Oh and I also brought you a coffee just the way you like and some fresh pastries. I know how bad hospital food can be so I thought it may help to lift your spirits a bit.”

   Spencer couldn’t hide his smile as Y/n sat down in the chair next to the bed. “Thank you Y/n, you didn’t have to do that.” He gladly accepted the cup of coffee. “Anyway, are you sure it’s okay that you’re here and not at the bakery?” He was worried about the small business.

   Letting out a small chuckle, Y/n responded. “Yeah it’s fine, I left one of the more experienced bakers in charge. Plus if I had to I would have closed for the day, making sure you’re okay is worth more to me than a day of sales.” Y/n explained.

   Before either could continue speaking the third person in the room spoke up. “I think I’ll leave you two to talk. I should probably get back to the office to see if the team needs any tech help.” Penelope excused herself not leaving any room for either to protest.

   After Penelope left it was quiet for a few minutes. Neither being sure what to say, how strange two people who love talking to each other are rendered speechless when left alone in a private setting. Thinking of what to do next Y/n could only think of one thing. He was so happy that Spencer was in fact okay and after feeling such intense worry over his well being, Y/n began to realize just how much Spencer really meant to him. Deciding that their flirting wasn’t enough and not knowing exactly how to word his confession, Y/n decided the only way to get the clueless Doctor to understand would be to be as direct as possible. Which led the pair to this moment.

   Y/n had taken the moment of silence to settle his nerves before leaning closer to Spencer and before the genius could ask what was happening, the baker had placed a kiss to his lips. It was effective in leaving the man speechless. After pulling away the silence continued as both parties processed what just happened.

   When seconds turned to minutes Y/n’s doubts began to creep in, worrying that he ruined everything. “I’m so sorry, I was just so worried about you and then -” he was cut off mid ramble by Spencer leaning forward and returning the kiss. Both quickly relaxed into it, glad to finally be done with dancing around their feelings.

[hockey-fics]

Hard to Forget ~ Trevor Zegras (and Jack Hughes)

Summary: You had a history with Trevor but it was a history you had worked hard to forget. But forgetting it becomes even harder when a new person finds their way into the middle.

Word Count: ~ 11,800

Warnings: drinking, jealousy, language, smut

You knew it would be a chaotic week, from the moment Trevor brought it up you knew that. But the reasons you thought it would be chaotic for were not exactly what they turned out to be. A week, one large secluded cabin on a lake and a handful of 20-somethings. It was really just a recipe for disaster.

But when Trevor asked if you wanted to come it didn’t take any consideration before saying yes. Trevor. You met Trevor in university, in your first year and his only year. You met in First-Year Writing Seminar, a class full of other nervous first-year students. 

You had completely expected to sit silently beside some other student for the entire year. But Trevor had plopped himself down right beside you, immediately striking up a conversation. You exchanged numbers that day, under the guise of meeting up to study together. But studying together rarely happened. Sure, the first time you hung out outside of class was supposed to be to study, but instead you spent 4 hours talking and laughing together at a table tucked away in the corner of Starbucks.

From that point on you rarely went a few days without seeing each other. He would drag you to parties you didn’t want to go to but would inevitably have a great time at. You would convince him that he did in fact need to study for his exams even though he was just at BU to play hockey. He would come back to your dorm after class and spend the entire afternoon distracting you from your own studying. You would go to almost all of his games that he had at Agganis Arena, even when your friends were begging you to stop spending so many weekend evenings at the arena. 

But there was one night in the midst of your friendship with Trevor that was different. You went with Trevor to a party at an apartment that you had never been to before, still to this day not knowing who lived there. When people began to trickle out late into the night Trevor offered to walk you home. It was only a ten minute walk back to your dorm but you took him up on the offer. When you got there you invited him in, drunken giggling and hushing each other till you were behind the privacy of your bedroom door. You flopped onto your bed, head spinning with alcohol as you stared at the ceiling. Trevor joined you a second later with a mutual understanding of your shared intoxication. You don’t even know how it happened or who initiated it. But it wasn’t long before you were laying next to each other on the small bed, bodies naked, flushed and sweaty, breathing heavily. 

When you woke up the next morning, nearly on top of Trevor, you knew a discussion needed to be had. So you asked Trevor what it meant, what he wanted, where things were going to go. And he told you that it didn’t mean anything, that he just wanted to forget about it and keep things the way they were. It hurt. It hurt more than you wanted to admit, so you didn’t admit it. You pretended you were fine with that and you did just what he requested. So you two spent the rest of the year being just friends again. And when he moved to Anaheim it was easier to do that. Because you didn’t talk as often and when you did you had so much to catch up on that you weren’t tempted to turn every silence in a conversation into a conversation about what happened that night. You did stay close with Trevor though. Both of you would take little trips here and there to see each other, keeping in touch through an endless stream of texts and many FaceTime calls. 

So when Trevor invited you on the trip of course you jumped at the opportunity. Because you missed him. Because maybe you were still in love with him. Because truthfully, you would do anything to spend even a little more time with.

You had to fly in to go to the cabin, something that Trevor financially helped you with despite your many protests. He picked you up from the airport, packing your bags into his rental car before the two of you went to the grocery store and the liquor store to stock up for the week. 

Before you knew it you were on your way to the cabin, an hour and a half out of the city. You had claimed AUX, knowing exactly what Trevor would play if you didn’t and wanting a little variety. 

“Who is this?” Trevor asks, glancing over to you in his passenger’s seat. You had one leg tucked underneath you, windows open, hair tousling around your face. 

“You wouldn’t know him,” you tease with a playful smile. 

“Oh-kay,” Trevor says, drawing out the word. “You’re so cool, I get it.”

Giggling you twist your body towards him, barely able to take your eyes off him. You knew you were still into him. You always had been. But you were supposed to just forget it, you had heard that loud and clear. “Well I’m glad you can admit how cool I am.”

“At least you’re not singing,” Trevor jokes, glancing over at you with a smirk. 

“Yet,” you chime in, giggling as you scroll through your Spotify playlist. Now you had to look for a song you could sing at the top of your lungs after that comment. And you do, blasting Cruel Summer, singing loudly with every word of the song engrained deeply in your brain. Of course you noticed the occasional glance from Trevor, taking his eyes off the road just long enough to take in your performance, his lips never dropping from that same intoxicating smile that made you fall for him so long ago.

The energy in that Budget Rental SUV doesn’t drop for the entirety of the drive, even managing to get Trevor to join in your karaoke session for a few songs here and there. When he turns off the car in the driveway of the massive vacation cottage it quickly hits you that you were no longer in the presence of broke college students. After dragging your stuff inside you’re met with an onslaught of people you had mostly only heard about. The round of introductions ends with Jack who quickly swoops in to pick your bags up off the ground for you. 

“You two weren’t early enough to claim one of the nice rooms,” Jack states, leading the way across the living room towards the stairs. 

“One room?” you whisper, looking behind you as Trevor drags his own bag along with him. 

“I, um…yeah, I hope…is that okay?” Trevor asks, hanging back at the bottom of the stairs as Jack continues on with your bag. “I’m sure I can just sleep on the couch down here if it’s not, I don’t think anyone has claimed that yet.”

“No, no…I mean, yeah, that’s fine,” you stammer, quickly turning around to scurry up the stairs before Trevor could see the ways your cheeks were flushing. 

In the bedroom you watch Jack set your bags down, stepping back towards the door. When your eyes lock with his you’re immediately struck with something deep inside you. “We were going to head down to to the lake and go swimming in a bit if you guys are down,” Jack tells you, his eyes locked on yours for a length of time that makes your heart flutter. 

“Sure, yeah,” Trevor states loudly. “We’ll be down in a bit, thanks, man.”

You watch Jack leave the room, closing the door on his way out, before you look back at Trevor. “Well I didn’t realize all your friends are just as hot as you,” you joke, pulling your suitcase up onto the bed to find a bathing suit. 

“Relax,” Trevor mutters, shaking his head. “Are you going to be like this for the whole week?”

“Like what?” you ask, pulling a red bikini out of your suitcase. 

“So fucking horny.”

Your eyes widen as you look over at Trevor. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter. “I’m not ‘so fucking horny’…calm down.” Turning around you walk to the door, yanking it open. 

“Where are you going?” Trevor asks before you can get out through the door. 

Turning around you look back over at him, rolling your eyes. “To fuck all of your friends because I’m so fucking horny,” you state sarcastically. “I’m going to find a bathroom to change in,” you tell him honestly, lifting the bikini in your hand for emphasis. 

Trevor simply shakes his head, letting you leave without further comment. After changing into your bikini you pull your shorts back on, already feeling a little too exposed without your shirt. Making your way back to the bedroom you push the door open, finding the room empty. 

Sighing you toss your shirt down onto the bed, picking up one of the beach towels you had packed before hurrying down the stairs. You find Trevor in the midst of a conversation, hanging back as you watch him for a few seconds. 

Jack turns his head away from the conversation, eyes locking with yours. You watch his eyes linger on you for a bit before shifting to the side, nodding for you to come join the conversation. 

“Do you want a drink or anything?” Jack asks you as you step closer to him. 

“We, um, we brought some stuff,” you stammer, unsure why you were suddenly feeling so shy and nervous. 

Jack nods, glancing over to the fridge and then back to you, realizing Trevor must have put the drinks in the fridge while you were changing.. “No pressure but we’ve all been drinking for awhile.”

Laughing under your breath you look over at Trevor, his hands still empty. Extending your hand you set it on his arm, catching his attention. “Want me to grab you a drink?”

Trevor’s eyes land on you for the first time since you got down there and you watch them slide down your body, pausing on your chest for a second longer than you would have expected. “I, uh…yeah, sure.”

Slipping out of the circle of conversation you head around the island in the kitchen to the fridge. Pulling a cooler out for yourself you grab one of Trevor’s bottles of beer. Spinning around you begin pulling drawers open, digging through them in search of a bottle opener. 

Jack is at your side by the time you get the third drawer open. “Looking for a bottle opener?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah, do you have one?”

“No,” Jack says, pulling the bottle from your hand. You watch him line the edge of the bottle lid up with the counter, slamming the palm of his hand onto the top of it. The lid pops off easily, digging into the laminate countertops. 

Giggling you point to the tiny little marks left on the edge of the counter. “Guess you’re paying the damage deposit on this place,” you tease. 

Jack shrugs, setting the open bottle down on the counter between you and him. “Not a problem.”

“Oh, I bet it’s not,” you reply with a laugh. “I’ve heard about that contact of yours.”

Jack chuckles, shaking his head as he stares down at the counter. “Yeah? Was it Z bitching about it?”

Giggling you slide your hand across the counter, wrapping it around the bottle of beer. “I think he’s pretty set himself.” Turning around you head back out of the kitchen, handing the bottle for beer to Trevor. “Is that okay?”

Trevor take the bottle, wrapping his arm around his your shoulders. “Of course, thank you.”

A moment later the group progresses out from the house down to the beach. You drop your towel onto the ground before shimmying yourself out of your shorts, kicking off your shoes. Looking over you see Trevor standing inches from the water and you hurry over to his side. “Is it cold?”

“It’s not bad,” Trevor says as he steps into the water, letting the gentle waves lap against his legs. 

Leaning down you run your hands through the water, a shiver running down your spine. “That’s a lie,” you state, standing up next to him. 

“You’re just wimpy,” Trevor teases, stepping around you and heading towards the dock that stretched out over the lake. 

Reaching over you attempt to playfully swat his arm, your fingers barely brushing against him as he steps around you. “I am not,” you state, following after him onto the dock. 

“No?” Trevor asks with a playful smirk that makes you instinctively step back away from him. 

You watch him step closer, his hands stretched out in front of him and you try to grab them, not knowing where he was going. “No,” you giggle, backing away as Trevor gets closer. “Trevor, I’m serious, whatever you’re about to do…don’t.”

Despite your pleading Trevor has his hands on you a second later, scooping you up into his arms, holding you against him as he walks towards the end of the dock. “I swear to God,” you mutter, squirming in his arms. “Trev, if I’m going in you’re coming with me.”

“I doubt that,” Trevor chuckles, stepping to the edge of the dock. You feel him stepping back, building up momentum and you quickly wrap your arms around him. 

Just as you had said you drag Trevor down into the lake with you as you plummet below the surface of the cool water. Quickly orienting yourself you emerge from the water, inhaling a sharp breath of air. “You’re such an asshole,” you exclaim, grasping onto Trevor’s shoulders, trying your hardest to push him back under. 

“What? Are you trying to drown me?” Trevor asks, easily keeping himself afloat as his hands find your hips under the surface of the water, pulling you into him. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, not knowing how else to handle the way he was pulling you into him. “Maybe,” you hum, giggling quietly, arms resting over Trevor’s shoulders. “It’s only fair after you tried to do it to me.”

“I wouldn’t let you drown. I’d save you.”

“Okay, Hasselhoff,” you tease. 

Before you have a chance to say anything more you hear someone yelling from the beach, asking if the water was okay. Looking over your shoulder you see Cole standing a few feet away from the threat of the cold water. “No,” you call to him. “But Trev will be right there to make you get in any way.”

Looking back to Trevor you clamber about his body, till you were on his back, arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs around his torso. “You made me get in, you’re taking me out,” you giggle. 

“Of course, your highness,” Trevor says, swimming back towards the shore. 

As Trevor gets further out of the water you let one leg go to stand up, feeling Trevor’s hand slip under your knee, keeping your leg around him. “I swear to god, Trev, if you throw me back into the water I’m hitchhiking back to the airport.”

Trevor chuckles, carrying you to where you had left your towel, crouching down till your legs hit the ground. “I’m not that mean.”

“Yes, you are,” you giggle, fixing your towel before sitting down onto it, leaning back on your arms. “Now go get Cole into the water.”

“It’s been like six hours, are you sick of me already?”

“Yes,” you joke, leaning back onto your elbows, letting the hot sun dry your skin. 

Trevor shakes his head, taking a step away from. “Remember that when you’re six drinks in and you won’t let me out of your sight.”

Rolling your eyes you reach over, picking up your drink at the reminder of the drinking aspect of this trip. “Shut up,” you tell him, taking a sip of your drink. “That was like three years ago.”

“We’ll see,” Trevor chuckles, heading down the beach towards the group standing along the shoreline, drinks in everyones hand as they stare at the water.

You’re not alone for more than a few minutes before Jack is sinking into the sand next to you. “You’re not what I expected,” he tells you. 

“What did you expect?” you ask, glancing over at him. 

“I-,” Jack begins, cutting himself off with a chuckle. “I don’t really know.”

“Well at least tell me if I’m better or worse than you expected.”

“Better,” Jack states without a second of hesitation. “Definitely better,” he breathes out. 

“Well I’m glad to hear that,” you tell him, looking down at his empty hands. “Where’s your drink?”

“Empty,” Jack tells you with a shrug. 

“You know, I think there’s a pretty easy solution to that issue.”

“And what’s that?” Jack jokes. 

Pulling yourself to your feet you reach down, taking Jack’s hand and doing your best to yank him up to his feet. “I’m sure I can finish this one by the time we get inside,” you tell him, tipping your can back to take another large gulp of your drink. 

“Impressive,” Jack laughs, waiting for you before heading back up the beach to the house. The air inside it cool, sending a shiver down your spine as you make your way to the kitchen, finding the bag for empty cans before tossing yours in there. “What are you drinking?” Jack asks, standing in front of the open fridge. 

“The vodka sodas,” you admit with a laugh. 

“Makes sense,” Jack teases, grabbing one for you before taking one of his own drinks for himself. 

“Do you want a shot?” you ask, looking over at the bottle of vodka you and Trevor had brought up. 

Jack’s eyes dart to the time on the stove, chuckling as he looks back to you. “It’s six pm.”

“Isn’t five the acceptable drinking time or whatever? Nobody said what type of drink it has to be.”

Jack hesitates, staring down at the bottle of vodka for a second before nodding. “Yeah, okay.”

Quickly you grab the vodka and a couple shot glasses, not giving Jack time to back out. Pouring them you slide one towards him, picking your own up. With a quick cheers and tap to the table you throw the shot back, the burning making its way to your stomach as you chase it with your drink. 

“Fuck,” Jack winces, laughing as he takes a swig of his beer. “That’s awful.”

Giggling you put the bottle back, picking up the one beside it. “How do you feel about tequila?” 

“Not much better,” Jack admits with a chuckle. “But I can handle it.”

“Of course you can,” you laugh, setting the bottle down in front of him. “Cause there’s nothing you can’t handle, right?” you tease.

“You want me to do one right now?” Jack asks, eyes shifting nervously to the bottle. 

“I want us to do one right now…I mean, if there’s nothing you can’t handle.”

Jack chuckles, a groan following seconds later. “Fine.”

You pour two shots, reaching over and grabbing Jack’s hand as he reaches for the shot. “Wait, I was joking around, I really don’t want to pressure you into doing this if you don’t want to.”

Jack’s eyebrows furrow, lips curling into a smile. “You’re cute,” he comments, glancing down at the counter. “But no, I want to.”

You can feel your cheeks warming and you’re fairly certain it wasn’t from the shot you had just taken. Picking your glass up you go through the same routine, cheers, counter, lips. Wincing you take another large gulp of your drink followed by a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it past nine,” you joke. 

“That’s not my fault, I came in here for one drink.” 

“You’re right, it’s not your fault. But it might be my fault if you don’t make it past nine.”

“You’re underestimating me.”

Rolling your eyes you lean back into the counter, looking up at Jack, standing in front of you. “Am I?”

Jack nods, his eyes transfixed on you in a way that made you both nervous and excited, your stomach filling with butterflies and your cheeks warm. “You’ll see,” Jack tells you. 

“I guess I will,” you whisper, taking another sip of your drink, your eyes barely breaking away from Jack’s gaze. 

“What’s going on in here?”

Looking over your shoulder you see Cole step inside, eyes narrowing as he closes the door behind him. 

“Do you want a shot?” 

“Of?” Cole asks, pulling the fridge open to grab himself a beer. 

“Vodka, tequila, I think we brought rum…whatever you’d like,” you tell him, watching him look back and forth between the two of you like you were luring him into a trap. 

“How many have you guys had already?” Cole asks, setting his beer down before grabbing the tequila and setting it in front of you. 

“Just a couple,” you tell him honestly, pouring him a shot, sliding it over to him. 

“I’m doing this by myself?” Cole asks, picking up the glass as you give him a nod of encouragement. He gets it down quickly, his hand slamming against the edge of the counter letting you know it was less than an enjoyable experience. 

A second later you hear you the door open, looking over to find Alex stepping inside. “Do you want a shot?” you call to him before anyone can say anything. 

“Don’t,” Cole warns. “She’s convincing but that’s awful tequila.”

“You want to try to the vodka instead?” you joke. 

“Absolutely not,” Cole chuckles, picking up his beer and heading back out the door. 

“I think I’m going to pass on the shots,” Alex tells you with a breath of laughter, grabbing himself a water from the fridge. “Z’s looking for you, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you,” you tell Alex. Reaching into one of the bags you brought you pull out a red solo cup, pouring a shot of tequila into it. Heading outside with Jack you plop yourself down next to where Trevor was sitting. “Heard you were looking for me.”

“I figured you couldn’t have gotten far,” Trevor comments, watching you with furrowed eyebrows as you hand him the plastic cup. “What’s this?”

“You gotta keep up,” you tell him with a mischievous smirk. 

“How many have you had?” Trevor asks, staring into the cup at the small amount of liquid sitting at the bottom. 

“A couple.” You watch him take the shot, chasing it with his beer, though it doesn’t seem to do much as he lets out a shuddering breath. 

“You’re a menace, you know that?” 

Shrugging you lean over, resting your head on his shoulder. “You love it.”

“Yeah,” Trevor breathes out, his arm slipping behind you. “I do.”

By the time the clock hits midnight that night you had lost track of how many drinks you had consumed that day. You were doing a decent job keeping yourself at a steady level of just drunk enough to maybe be able to convince someone you weren’t drunk at all if you used every ounce of your focus. Beer pong had made it’s way into the evening activities, the patio table covered in puddles of water from spilled cups.

It was game four, you and Trevor undefeated. “When’d you get so good at this?” Trevor asks, his hands on your hips as he stands behind you, the other team taking their turn. 

“You missed a lot in the last three years of university,” you quip, pressing your body back into him, your head tipping onto his shoulder. 

“I guess I did miss a lot,” he mumbles, sighing quietly. 

“Don’t sound so sad, you didn’t want to be there to begin with.”

Trevor chuckles, taking one hand off your hips to turn you around and face him. “I don’t care what I missed in school, I care about what I missed with you.” 

“Uh oh,” you giggle, shaking your head. “Someone’s become a sappy drunk.”

“Shut up,” Trevor groans, turning his attention to the pong table again, throwing his ball and watching it bounce off the rim of the last cup. 

“It’s okay…I like it,” you tell him, picking up your ball to take your shot. You watch it easily sail into the last remaining cup, surprising even you. 

“Oh, shit,” Trevor exclaims, wrapping his arms around you excitedly. 

“Trev, they get redemption,” you laugh, wiggling out of his grasp as you watch neither of the other team’s shots go into your remaining cups. “Now you can celebrate,” you tease. 

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” Trevor states, his hands around your arms. 

Laughing you shake your head, not expecting to see this level of drunk out of him yet. “I’m just good at beer pong, I’m not doing anything that spectacular.”

You hang around after your last game for a few more drinks before sneaking off to bed, leaving Trevor to continue drinking with his friends for awhile longer. 

It was just after three in the morning, only hours after you had originally fallen asleep, when you woke up again. You could feel the slight headache, knowing it would only build into something worse by the time the morning rolled around. Groaning you pull yourself out of the bed, slipping out of your room and sneaking down to the kitchen. You didn’t want to turn on too many lights, not wanting to wake anyone in the bedrooms downstairs, using the dim light from above the stove to find yourself a glass, filling it with water. 

Turning around to lean against the counter your eyes catch a figure coming into the kitchen, making you jump. “Holy shit,” you breathe out, laughing quietly. 

“Sorry,” Jack chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m just a jumpy person, you’re totally fine,” you tell him, taking a large gulp of your glass of water. 

“Didn’t expect you to still be up,” Jack comments, pulling a gatorade out of the fridge, letting you know he was also on his way towards a hangover. “You two were pretty quiet up there.”

“Hmm?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing. A moment later you realize what he was getting at. “No, we’re not,” you state. “I mean, together, we’re not together…we’re not doing anything together,” you stammer, face reddening. 

“Really?” Jack questions, eyes narrowing. 

“Yes, really…why? Did he say something else?”

“No,” Jack states quickly. “No, he didn’t. I just, I saw you on the beach and you’re sharing a room and I assumed…you know.”

“No, I mean, that’s totally fair,” you say with a shrug. “But we’re just friends, nothing else,” you tell him, thinking back to the morning after you and Trevor had slept together. Just friends. That’s all he wanted with you. Bringing your glass to your lips you finish off what was left in your glass, turning around to fill it up again. 

“Do you want a gatorade or anything? Might help more than water,” Jack offers. 

Turning back around you take another sip of your water. “I’ll be okay with just water, but you don’t happen to have any Advil or anything do you?”

Jack chuckles, nodding in response. “Yeah, I do,” he tells you, nodding in the direction of the stairs. 

Following after him you stop in the doorway of his room, watching him digging through his bag. You hear the rattle of pills in the bottle, almost sighing in relief as he bring it over to you. Taking the bottle from Jack you tip a couple pills into your hand. “Thank you,” you whisper. 

“Of course,” Jack says, voice soft as he runs his hand through his hair. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” 

“Thank you,” you repeat, your eyes falling to Jack’s lips, your own parted slightly as you inhale deeply. You watch Jack shift closer, his own eyes moving from yours to your lips. Perhaps it was the alcohol, maybe it was something else. But the sober part of your brain was screaming at you loud enough for you to take a tiny step back. “Goodnight, Jack,” you whisper. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jack replies, watching as you turn around, heading back down to the hallway to the bedroom you were sharing with Trevor. 

After falling asleep for the second time that night you manage to stay asleep till the morning. You woke up with a headache that was only a fraction of what you had expected, most little due to the Advil Jack had spared. Rolling over you notice Trevor’s side of the bed was empty and you slowly pull yourself out of bed. Changing out of Trevor’s t-shirt you had stolen to sleep in and into one of your own t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Heading downstairs you find the state of the room in much the same shape as you were feeling, quiet and clutching bottles of water or gatorade. 

“There she is,” Trevor announces as you step into the room. He opens his arm to you where he was sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. 

Slowly you make your way over to him, sitting down in his lap without a second of hesitation, not wanting to stay standing for longer than necessary. 

“How you feeling?” Trevor whispers, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Been better,” you say with a quiet laugh, laying your head on his shoulder. “Probably would’ve been worse if Jack hadn’t spared some Advil though.”

“When did Jack give you Advil?” Trevor asks, tone sharp, fingers tightening on your arm. 

“Last night,” you mumble, pulling your phone from your pocket, unlocking it to check on the notifications that had built up since you had started drinking the night before. 

“When?” Trevor repeats, his voice sharp enough this time to draw your complete attention. 

“I don’t know,” you mutter with a shrug. “Maybe like three or something. He came down when I was getting some water.”

“With Advil?”

“No,” you giggle. “But I asked if he had any.”

Trevor nods slowly, running his hand along your arm. “I have Advil.”

“Okay,” you say, drawing the word out. “But you were asleep.”

“Just wake me up next time, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply with narrowed eyes, shaking your head before turning your focus back to your phone. 

You’re not sure how long everyone sits there in silence on their phones before someone suggests making something for breakfast. It was most definitely lunch at that point but you volunteered to help out either way. 

In the kitchen you pull a carton of eggs from the fridge, beginning on your task of scrambled eggs. “Need any help?” Trevor asks, standing at your side, watching you crack egg after egg into a large bowl. 

“I think I can handle this,” you tell him as you crack another egg, a sizeable piece of shell falling into the bowl. “You didn’t see that,” you laugh, attempting to fish it out with a fork. 

“Oh, I definitely did,” Trevor teases. “Are you allowed to be this bad of a cook now that you’re not a college student?”

“I graduated like two months ago,” you exclaim. “I’d like to see you do better.”

“Okay,” Trevor states, hands on your hips as he shuffles you out of the way. You wished you could say that when he touched you like that it didn’t make you feel anything, but you simply couldn’t. But you could pretend. At the very least you had experience in pretending. 

You watch Trevor crack the remainder of the eggs into the bowl without a problem, knowing exactly what was about to come. So when Trevor turns in your direction you shake your head, stopping him before he had the chance. “Don’t,” you warn with a giggle. 

“Fine,” Trevor smirks. “I’ll give you a break this time.”

“Actually, since you’re such a great cook I think I’m going to let you take over here,” you tell him stepping back to head around the island in the kitchen. 

“No,” Trevor breathes, shaking his head. “You volunteered.”

“Well now I’m volunteering you,” you tell him. Walking around to the side of the island with a row of barstools you slide onto the one next to Jack, resting your elbows on the counter. “We’ve got the front row seats.”

“Oh yeah, who needs Food Network?” Jack jokes. 

Laughing softly you turn your head to look over at him. “Thanks again for the Advil last night, I’d probably still be in bed without it.”

“Yeah, it was no problem, really,” Jack shrugs. “How do you like your toast?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at Jack. You watch him nod towards where Alex was standing in front of the toaster, a blank stare across the kitchen as smoke pours out from the toaster. “What is that considered?”

“Well done, probably.”

“I must be a medium rare type of person, I guess,” you laugh, leaning into the counter as you watch Alex remain unaware of anything happening around him. 

“Alex,” Jack calls, catching his attention. “Need a sub out on toaster duty or what?”

“Fuck…shit,” Alex stammers, fingers hammering at every button on the toaster till the blackened pieces of toast lift from the toaster. “Yeah, no, I’m good,” Alex chuckles, setting a couple more pieces into the toaster. 

Eventually the meal is assembled and at that point there was no denying it was lunch as you all sat down at the table, clock nearing one in the afternoon. After the meal is finished and dishes are at least halfway dealt with everyone heads outside to at least enjoy the latter half of the day not sitting inside. 

You spend most of the day laying on the beach, keeping yourself entertained with an endless scroll of Instagram posts next to the cooler of drinks and the patchwork of beach towels laying on the sand. And you’re still at it when you notice a body land on the sand next to you. “How’s it going over here?”

Looking over you squint into the bright sunlight up at Jack. “Pretty good, gotta keep up to date with the celebrity news.”

“Right, yeah,” Jack chuckles. “I just…are you okay over here?”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a nervous laugh, sitting up to be at the same level as him, not sure what was going on. 

Jack shrugs, picking up a small rock from the sand beside him, tossing it down towards the water. “Just, like, don’t want to leave you out or anything,” Jack mumbles. “We were talking about playing beach volleyball if you want to play.”

Hesitating for a second you glance over to where Trevor was standing, laughing about something, shirtless and more attractive than ever. “Yeah, sure,” you say to Jack, pulling yourself to your feet and tugging your shorts on before walking with Jack towards the group that had gathered near the volleyball net. 

Trevor turns his head, doing a double take when he sees you approaching. “You’re actually going to play?”

“Yes,” you tell him with a giggle as he throws an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his warm body. 

“Well I don’t want you on my team,” Trevor jokes, smirking down at you.

“Fuck off,” you laugh, ducking out from under his arm with a playful shove. “I’m not that bad.”

“I know,” Trevor laughs, reaching over and grabbing your hand, pulling you back in front of him. “Of course you’re going to be on my team.”

Swallowing heavily you stare up at Trevor, heart racing as he looks down at you. “Okay,” you whisper, not able to think clearly or quickly enough to say much more. 

“Alright, are we playing or not?” Alex calls and you’re more than grateful for him breaking you out of the moment you were stuck in. 

You’re able to clear your mind of your racing thoughts by the time the game begins, though you were pretty sure the intensity of the game would have done it for you if you hadn’t. By the end of the game you were breathing heavily, desperate for a drink that wasn’t alcoholic. But at least you had won, even if it took all the energy your half-hungover, half-tipsy body could muster up. 

Turning around you look over at Trevor, shaking your head as he walks over, lifting his arms. You bring your own up, the high-five ending with his hands wrapped around yours as he chuckles at your breathless state. “Don’t say anything about it,” you laugh. “I don’t get paid to workout.”

“Fine,” Trevor chuckles, handing you his bottle of water. “You did good though.”

“Thanks,” you tell him, taking the water from him gratefully. “You want to go swim?”

“Oh, now you want to go in?” Trevor teases. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

So you head to the edge of the water, shimmying out of your shorts before you slowly make your way into cool water. “It’s so cold,” you giggle as Trevor throws himself into it. 

“Get in quicker, it’s easier.” 

“No,” you protest, readying yourself for a fight as Trevor approaches. “Don’t.”

“Relax,” Trevor chuckles, hanging back as he lets you get into the water at your own pace this time. Once you’re in you had to agree, the cool water felt nice against your warm skin, the heat from hours in the direct sun slowly easing up. 

You follow Trevor deeper into the lake, till you’re at his side. You feel his hand wrap around your waist, pulling you into him again. “You know I can swim, right?” 

“No,” Trevor jokes, receiving an eye roll from you in response. “You’ve looked really hot this trip,” Trevor tells you, voice low as his eyes lock with yours. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Now you’re the one that’s so fucking horny…you need to get laid or something.”

“I’m quite fine in that department,” Trevor states with a confidence that makes you question the truth of that. 

“Yeah?” you ask, giggling as you place your fingers and thumb on his jaw, turning his head to look at you. Your face was close enough to his to cause the familiar desires building inside you, the way your body would ache for his touch. “Have you? Tell me all about it,” you joke.

“You’d like that,” Trevor comments and his lips are so close to yours you have to use every bit of restraint not to kiss him right there. 

“I know all I need to know,” you whisper.

“Right,” Trevor mutters, his grip on you loosening as he lets you drift a little further away. 

“Trev, I’m sorry, I-,” you begin, mind flashing back to his words all those years ago. ‘Let’s just forget it happened.’

“No…no, you’re fine,” Trevor assures you, twisting you in his arms till you were on his back, swimming back into the shallower portion of the lake. Once you could touch the ground you free yourself from Trevor, heading out of the water to resume your position of laying on your towel, letting the warmth of the sun sink into your skin. Only this time your mind was racing with thoughts and regrets for bringing it back up. 

Thankfully the day takes a turn towards alcohol shortly after, the rest of the night falling into the same rhythm as the first night. You take too many shots, play too many rounds of beer pong, and sneak away to head to bed before everyone else. 

Day three you had expected to go much the same as the first days. That was until you made your way down the stairs, the large windows revealing the grey sky, sheets of rain pouring from it. “Well that sucks,” you state, glancing back at Trevor who was just steps behind you. 

“Does it?” Trevor chuckles, wincing at the brightness of the living room. “I think I need to just lay still for awhile.”

Laughing you nudge Trevor towards the couch, grabbing some water from the kitchen before curling up next to him on the couch. He’s in the corner of the sectional, your back pressed to his chest. And you two stay like that for most of the day, others joining you now and then to watch parts of whatever movie Trevor picked from the Netflix suggestions. 

The energy in the house that day was significantly lowered, by the time the sun was set people were already trickling off to their own rooms. 

It was nearly eleven when Trevor pushes himself up from the couch, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m heading to bed, you coming?”

“I think I’ll stay down here and watch tv for a bit longer,” you tell him, lifting your head to let him get up from the couch. 

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit,” Trevor tells you, heading up the stairs to the second floor. 

Turning your attention to the TV you focus on the rest of the episode of Community that was playing. 

“You’re all alone, hey?”

Looking over you watch Jack walk into the living room, flopping down onto the chair beside the couch. “Yeah, I was abandoned,” you joke. 

“That’s too bad,” Jack chuckles. “You’re staying up for a bit?”

“I don’t really know, I’m not super tired but this isn’t very exciting,” you admit with a breath of laughter. 

“Do you smoke?”

“Yeah…I mean, like, weed?”

“Yeah,” Jack chuckles. “Do you want to?”

“Sure,” you tell him, sitting up and turning your attention to him, watching him stand up and head towards the stairs. 

“You coming?” Jack asks. 

Quickly you shut the TV off, picking up your phone and bottle of water before hurrying after him. You follow him into his room, hanging around near the dresser on the edge of the wall as you watch him dig through a duffel bag, pulling out a baggie with a few pre-rolled joints. 

“You can sit down,” Jack tells you, sitting down himself. You watch closely as he picks up a lighter, taking a joint out of the bag and tossing the rest to the side. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” 

Jack turns his attention away from the lighter in his hand, eyes narrowing. “It’s just weed.”

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Smoking it inside.”

Jack seems to contemplate it again, looking over at the open window before shrugging. “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” you reply with a shrug, watching him light the joint in his hand. After a couple silent rounds, passing it back and forth while holding back coughs, Jack presses the filter into a glass on the bedside table.

“Gross,” you comment, eyes flicking back from the glass to Jack as he leans back against the headboard. 

“What did you want me to do with it?” Jack chuckles.

Shrugging you extend your hands behind you, leaning back onto your arms, eyes on the ceiling. “I don’t know, I don’t usually smoke inside.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Jack admits. “Are you still living in Boston?” 

You’re frozen in place for a second, foggy brain needing a second to realize how he knew you were there at all. Because that’s where you met Trevor, that’s probably one of the only things he knew about you. “Yeah, sorta,” you tell him, laughing quietly. “I just graduated so-.”

“Congratulations,” Jack interrupts, making you laugh again. 

“Thanks,” you say with a soft smile. “So I don’t know…I might stay there, I might look for a job somewhere else, I’m not sure.”

“I’ve heard California is pretty nice.”

“Yeah?” you ask with a playful smile. “Who’d you hear that from?”

Jack chuckles, glancing down at his hands that were sitting in his lap, legs spread out in front of him. “What happened with you two?”

Shaking your head slowly you shift further onto the bed. Turning towards him you cross your leg in front of you, your knee brushing against his thigh. You contemplate shuffling back but you stay there, trying not to make it obvious how much that simple touch was filling your stomach with butterflies. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you two haven’t, you know, done anything together.”

Your lungs draw in a sharp breath, lips parting, the truth almost spilling out before you can stop yourself. “Yeah, no, we’ve never…you know. We’re just friends.”

Jack nods slowly, a few minutes of contemplative silence. Looking across the room Jack’s eyes land on the TV mounted on the wall. “Do you want to watch something?”

“Sure,” you whisper, watching him pick up the remote, your eyes transfixed on his hands. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. But you couldn’t help it. Perhaps sober you could, but the rational part of your mind had vanished some point between your first and fifth lungful of smoke.

“Any suggestions?” Jack asks, drawing your attention back up to his eyes. 

“No, I’m fine with anything,” you tell him, turning to lean against the headboard beside him. 

Jack takes your answer very literally, pressing play on the first movie suggestion that came up on Netflix. Setting the remote down he places his hand down on your knee, an unsteady breath leaving your lips in response. When you turn your head you find that Jack was already looking at you. 

You try to make sense of the situation, your heart racing. Your eyes unconsciously fall to Jack’s lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. He’s moving slowly, like he was watching for an signs of hesitation from you. But you don’t stop him as he slides his hand along your jaw, fingers resting on the back of your head. 

Trying to steady your breathing you let yourself lean closer, let yourself melt away into the moment. But when you feel his breath on your lips you find there really was some hesitation hidden in your hazy mind. “We shouldn’t do this, right?” you whisper. 

“No, probably not,” Jack admits. 

Part of you wanted to go on anyway, but you couldn’t. Something, somewhere inside you, was telling you not to go any further. So you don’t. Slowly you pull away, your eyes lingering on his chest for awhile, uncertain of what to say. “I don’t think we should-.”

“It’s okay,” Jack interrupts, shaking his head. “I get it.”

You weren’t sure if he really did get it but you nod anyway, thankful to not need to go any further into an explanation. “I can go now,” you whisper. 

Jack gestures towards the TV at the movie that was playing. “You don’t want to stay and watch? It looks like it’ll be good,” Jack comments, the two of you staring at the screen where some of the worst acting you had ever seen was occurring. 

Laughing quietly you lean back beside him. “You’re right, this might become my favourite movie.”

So the two of you watch the movie together. By the time you hit the halfway mark you were both laying down, your head resting on Jack’s shoulder, his arm around your back. And by the time the movie had ended you had long since fallen asleep, the movie most definitely not anybody’s favourite. 

Waking the next morning you need a few minutes to process where you were and what had happened to get you there. The events of the night before come rushing in, rolling out of Jack’s arms as you sit up, staring at the wall for a moment as you gather your thoughts. 

“You okay?” Jack mumbles tiredly. 

Looking over your shoulder you nod quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you assure him. “I’m going to, uh, head downstairs.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a second too,” Jack tells you. 

Slipping out of Jack’s bedroom you make a stop in the bathroom. Brushing your teeth and hair and staring at your reflection in the mirror for a few minutes too long, taking in the circles under your eyes, the late nights wearing on you. Finally you head back into the hallway, finding Jack heading down the stairs just a moment before you. 

When your feet hit the floor of the living room you can sense the strange energy in the room before anyone even says anything. 

“Yeah…of course,” Trevor states, glancing across the room at Alex. 

“Shit,” Alex breathes out. “Do you guys need a minute?”

Trevor shakes his head, turning his attention back to his phone. “Nah, it doesn’t matter.”

Your eyes are shifting around the room, a sinking feeling in your chest. Slowly you make your way to the couch, sitting on the edge next to Trevor, like you weren’t sure if you were even allowed to sit down. “Hi,” you whisper, not managing to get him to look away from his phone. 

“Hey,” he replies coldly. 

“Trev,” you whisper, setting your hand on his leg. 

“Don’t,” Trevor mutters to you and you quickly recoil, not able to get your lungs to fully expand, your breaths growing shorter and quicker. 

“Trevor, what’s going on?” you whisper, voice strained as you fight to hold back your tears. 

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Trevor snaps, quickly looking from his phone to you. “Because it sure as hell looks like I brought you out here just to fuck my friends,” Trevor continues, standing up from the couch. 

“Z, man, it’s not, don’t yell at her like-,” Jack begins, not making it through his sentence before Trevor turns his anger onto him instead. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Trevor snaps at him. “I don’t want to fucking look at you right now.”

You’re scrambling to your feet as you watch Trevor heading upstairs, heart beating so fast and hard you could hear it in your ears. 

“Should give him some time,” Alex says as you step towards the stairs. 

“No,” you croak, shaking your head. “I-I can’t,” you stammer, tears filling your eyes. Without another moment of consideration you hurry up the stairs, slipping into the bedroom after him. “Trevor,” you whisper, leaning against the closed door behind you. 

“What?” Trevor snaps, turning around to look at you. 

“What are you so upset about?” you ask. Sure, you could maybe understand some level of anger at the idea of you and Jack doing anything together, but there was something else going on, you knew that much.

He doesn’t answer you, at least not with words. With a few large steps he’s standing in front of you, his hands on either side of your face as he tips your head back. His lips are on yours before you can even process what was happening. The kiss is filled with so much anger that you can almost taste it. When he pulls back you’re both breathing heavy, wide eyes staring at each other, so full of uncertainty. 

“What the fuck?” you finally exclaim, wiggling out from where you were pressed between Trevor and the door. “What the fuck was that?”

“You really hooked up with my friend when I’m so clearly in love with you?” Trevor snaps. 

“So clearly in love with me?” you ask, voice higher than you had expected. “Don’t fuck with me, Trevor.”

“I’m not,” he yells, shaking his head. 

“Really? You’re so clearly in love with me? How about after you fucked me four years ago? Were you in love with me then?” 

“Yes,” Trevor exclaims. 

“Fuck you,” you breathe out, shaking your head as you take a step back away from him. “You’re the one who told me to forget it ever happened, like it was a fucking mistake,” you remind him, voice shaky but loud. “So you don’t get to make me seem like the bad guy here. Because you broke my heart that day and I’ve had to spend every single fucking day since then pretending I was okay and it hurts…it hurts so much.”

Trevor shakes his head slowly, eyes softening as he stares across the room at you, at the tears rolling down your cheeks. “I-,” he begins, swallowing heavily. “I didn’t know, I thought…why didn’t you tell me?”

The breath of laughter that leaves your lips is cold, bitter. “Because you told me to forget that it happened, Trevor, you didn’t really make me think you were open to that conversation.” Turning around you take a few steps towards the door. “I need some space.”

Trevor tries to protest but you’re already on your way downstairs. The silence downstairs sends a wave of panic through your body, eyes down as you set your focus on the front door. But Jack is stepping in front of you, trying to get you to slow down for a second. 

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Please, Jack, I’m sorry, but I can’t…I can’t do this right now.”

“Are you okay?” Jack asks, despite your pleading. 

“No,” you croak, stepping around him and continuing on your path. Slipping on some shoes you hurry outside, the morning air still cool as you make your way down towards the beach. Flopping down onto the sand you pull your knees to your chest, curling into yourself as you try to force deep breaths into your lungs. 

Eventually you stop crying, eventually your lungs don’t feel like they’re shaking as you try to inhale. You don’t know how long you were out there, lost without your phone telling you the time. But before you can force yourself to go back inside you hear someone approaching and you keep your eyes on the lake, not knowing if you were prepared for what was about to happen. 

“Hi,” Trevor says, sitting down next to you, his own eyes transfixed on the lake. “Can we talk?”

“I guess,” you mumble. 

Trevor takes an audibly deep breath before saying anything, a moment to compose himself in the midst of the chaos. “You accepted it so easily, the idea that it didn’t mean anything and it’s not like…I’m not saying that I’m not in the wrong, but, you know, I thought it was fine. You didn’t seem upset, I just, I fucked up, I got scared, I don’t know. I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it hurt you then and I don’t want to hurt you now and I just don’t know what to do.”

Nodding slowly you reach forward, fingers turning a rock over and over. “I don’t know either.”

“I mean, I don’t want to lose you but if you want to be with him or whatever, I don’t know, I guess like, that’s fine if that’s something you want, but-.”

“Trevor, stop,” you breathe out, finally turning your attention to him. “I don’t want him. We didn’t even do anything.”

“You spent the night in his room,” Trevor points out. 

“Yeah,” you tell him. “We almost kissed, I’m not going to lie to you about that. But we didn’t…I couldn’t. I just, it didn’t feel right or whatever. We were stoned and we decided to watch a movie and fell asleep. That’s it.”

Trevor is silent for a few minutes, eyes focused somewhere out beyond the lake. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Trevor whispers, turning to look at you now. 

“Me too,” you reply. “It shouldn’t have even gone as far as it did.” 

Reaching over Trevor takes your hand, slipping his fingers between yours. “So what now?”

Shrugging you stare down at your hands, squeezing his gently. “I don’t know.”

“Should we, um, just go back to the way-.”

“No,” you interrupt. “Jesus Christ, Trevor, that’s what got us into this in the first place.”

“No, you’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I also don’t think I could go back to the way we were after that kiss,” you whisper with a playful smile. 

“What?” Trevor asks, a smile spreading on his face.

“I don’t remember you taking charge like that the last time,” you tease. 

“I was nervous, why are you coming at me like this?”

“I’m not,” you say with a giggle, looking up at him. “It was good, I remember that.”

Trevor’s lips curl into a smirk, reaching over and sliding one hand along your jaw, till his fingers were on the back of your head. Leaning down he kisses you again and this time it’s not angry but it’s just as energy filled, an eager, desperate energy. 

“Trevor,” you whisper, pulling back. “I think we should go inside…deal with this, I don’t want this to ruin the trip.”

“Yeah, okay,” Trevor groans, waiting for you to climb off of his lap before standing up and following you into the house. 

It’s not as quiet as it was earlier, someone had put on music, there was conversation stemming from the living room. But the energy was still off, sending a wave of guilt through your body. The last thing you wanted was to be the cause of this trip becoming weird. 

Letting Trevor take the lead you follow him into the living room, stopping to lean against the wall, hanging back as everyone turns their attention towards you and Trevor. 

Your eyes lock with Jack and a nervous, apologetic smile spreads on your lips. 

“So-,” Trevor begins, clearing his throat. “What, um, what are we doing today?”

“No way,” Cole states, laughter filling the room. Amusement from everyone except Jack, who still hadn’t looked away from you. “There’s no way we had to listen to you two screaming at each other an hour ago and we don’t get to know what’s going on now.”

Trevor glances over at you, seemingly looking for an answer as to what to tell them. Shrugging you cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to go on. 

“Well how much did you hear?” Trevor asks. 

“Dude, all of it,” Alex chimes in. 

Trevor nods, reaching over and taking your hand, pulling you into his side. “We’re still figuring it out.”

You watch a few exchanges of looks, a mixture of skepticism and confusion, before Alex stands up. “Well I’m going to have breakfast, does anyone want to join me?”

Sighing in relief of the change of topic you follow the group into the kitchen, leaning against the island bar as you watch Alex pull stuff out of the fridge. It’s barely minutes later when Jack steps up to the bar beside you, his body angled towards you. 

“Hi,” you whisper, turning in to him. Trevor’s eyes remain locked on you as you talk to Jack, everyone still uncertain about the situation. 

“Hey,” Jack whispers back. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course,” you say quickly, pushing yourself away from the counter. “Do you want to go outside?”

“Sure,” Jack says, following you through the living room and out the sliding glass door to the deck. 

Walking across the deck you sit down on the small couch, turning your body to face Jack as he sits down on the other end of the couch. “I-,” you begin, not getting far before Jack cuts you off. 

“You told me nothing ever happened between you and him,” Jack says, voice accusatory. And he had every right to be accusatory. You had lied to him, straight to his face.

“I know,” you mumble, looking down at your hands. “And I’m really sorry, I am. But it’s complicated. I, um, I thought…you know, he told me we should forget it happened and part of me thought that, you know, he was like…embarrassed that it happened. So I tried to forget and I never told anyone, he didn’t seem to want anyone to know.”

“Embarrassed?” Jack presses.

Shrugging you feel your eyes prickling with tears again, keeping your eyes focused on your lap, nervously wringing your hands. “Yeah, I mean, look at him…and he was always the centre of attention, every party we went to people just loved him so much and he could have had any girl at that school and like, why would it be me?”

“Hey, woah,” Jack mumbles, reaching over and placing his hand over yours, forcing you to stop moving them. “He’s not…he’s not like…that great.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, reaching up to wipe tears from your eyes. “That’s kind of mean.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jack chuckles. “I just mean he’s not any better than you in any way, he’s not better looking or funnier or anything. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “Yeah, we, um, we talked about it a bit. It was just hard to think that for years, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jack replies, and it felt genuine, whether that was something he did understand or not. “For what it’s worth, I know he really loves you…just didn’t realize it was like that.”

Nodding slowly you reach over, pulling him into a hug. “Thanks, Jack.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jack mutters, standing up when you pull back from the hug. Following suit you head back towards the door. “But if you have like a single friend or something,” Jack jokes, making you laugh. 

“I don’t think you need a matchmaker but I’ll see what I can do,” you tell him with a laugh. Stepping inside you wait for Jack to close the door, the two of you making your way back to the kitchen. 

“Everything okay?” Trevor asks, voice tense as you slide into the spot next to him at the counter. 

“Yeah,” you assure him. “Can I talk to you upstairs?”

Trevor nods, eyes flashing with a panic that almost makes you feel bad. Taking his hand you slip from the kitchen and up the stairs, not stopping till you were behind the closed door of he bedroom. 

“What’s wrong?” Trevor asks, watching you closely. 

“Nothing,” you whisper, running your hands up his chest, one hand on the back of his neck as you gaze up at him. “I just, you know, want some…time, with you.”

Your words take a moment to sink in, but the second they do he has his hands on your waist, pushing you back against the wall. You let out a heavy breath, eyes gazing up at him through your eyelashes. 

His lips are on yours a moment later, the desperation from earlier not fading as his hands find the bottom of your shirt. Pulling back he yanks it off without hesitation, leaning back in to kiss you while his fingers make quick work of the hooks of your bra. Before you let him slide the bra straps down your arms you’re yanking on his shirt, fumbling it over his head. 

With both of you topless you place your hands on his chest, pushing him across the room before bringing your knees to either side of him on the bed. You feel his arm on your back, pulling your body closer as you lean down to kiss him again. With a soft whimper you press your hips forward, desperate for him to touch you in all the ways you had been longing for. It doesn’t take long for him to push you back to your feet, tugging your shorts off, not sparing a second before your underwear is off your body as well. 

“Fuck,” Trevor breathes out, pulling you down onto the bed next to him. He’s over top of you a second later, lips trailing down your neck to your chest as his hand slips between your legs. He draws a sharp gasp from your lips when his fingers find your clit. With gentle circles he makes you moan quietly, trying your hardest to keep your volume down. 

“Like that,” you whisper, pulling him closer to kiss him again, a desperate attempt to keep silent. It doesn’t take long before you’re squirming below him, body hit with waves of pleasure. “Holy fuck,” you whisper, pulling back as you stare up at Trevor, a breathless smile on your face. 

Slipping your hand between your bodies you run it down his torso, a smirk growing on your lips as Trevor lets out a strangled groan. When your fingers slip just below the waistband of his shorts you still your hand, watching Trevor closely. 

“Don’t,” Trevor groans, shaking his head as he runs his hand down your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. 

“Don’t what?” you whisper, fingers toying with the waistband of his shorts. 

“Tease me like that,” Trevor mutters. 

“Then do something about it,” you reply with a mischievous smirk on your lips. 

You don’t have to tell him to take charge more than once, with him quickly standing up. Tugging his shorts and boxers off he climbs back on the bed, sliding his fingers up your thigh as he does. As he kisses you again you can feel his fingers back between your legs, sliding one inside you a second later. Pulling yourself back from the kiss you gasp quietly, hips lifting to try to get him to give you more. 

Trevor reads your body language easily, slipping another finger inside you, curling them up inside you. “Trevor, please,” you whimper. 

“Please, what?”

“You know,” you whisper, hands cupping his cheeks as you tug him down, desperate to kiss him again. “Please.”

“Tell me,” Trevor insists, pulling back to watch the look of desperation on your face. 

“I want you inside me Trevor, please, I want you to fuck me,” you plead, breath shaky. 

You watch Trevor get up and you pull yourself to lean on your elbows, eyes following him as he walks across the room. After a minute of digging through his bag he returns, condom in hand. 

“You brought condoms?” 

“Yeah,” Trevor replies easily, ripping open the package before slipping the condom on himself. 

“Why? Who did you-,” you begin. 

“You,” Trevor interrupts, pushing you further onto the bed to give himself more space to climb onto the bed over you. 

You lips part slightly, knowing this was most definitely something you could tease him about. “Did you have them around every time we were together?”

“No,” Trevor states, a little too quickly and with not enough confidence for it to be convincing. 

Giggling you reach up, sliding your hand behind his neck, pulling him down to press your lips to his again. “Yes, you did.”

“Do you want me to fuck you or not?” Trevor mutters. 

“Yes,” you whisper, nodding eagerly. 

“Then stop,” Trevor warns you. 

“Fine,” you state with a breath of laughter. Your laughter comes to a quick stop when you feel him slide inside you, a gasp slipping from your lips. “Oh, fuck,” you whisper, reaching over and grasping desperately at his shoulders. 

“Feel okay?” Trevor mumbles, his hands on your thighs as he leans up, hitting an angle that makes you moan loudly. “That a yes, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, nodding eagerly. “You feel so fucking good inside me.”

Trevor’s hips begin moving quicker, thrusts becoming harder. “Good girl,” Trevor mutters, his words drawing another moan from your lips. 

Shortly after Trevor is pulling himself out of you. He has his hand on your hips, beginning to turn you over. Realizing quickly what he wants you slip onto your knees, arms braced in front of you. His hands graze over your ass, sliding himself back inside you before moving his hands to your hips. He helps steady you against his hard thrusts, your moans becoming more frequent with each second. 

“Need you to be quiet,” Trevor mutters, reaching one hand around your chest, tugging you up onto just your knees. “Can you do that for me?” he whispers, lips next to your ear. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, hands bracing yourself when he lets you go, bringing his hands back to your hips. And you do your best, stifling the majority of your moans till his thrusts begin to slow, finally pulling himself out of you a second later. 

“Holy shit,” Trevor mutters, breathing heavily as he slips his condom off. Using a handful of kleenex he cleans himself up enough to be able to pull some clothes on and head to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving the room. 

By the time he gets back you had pulled some clothes on yourself, laying on your back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Everything okay?” Trevor asks, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at you. 

“Everything is great,” you assure him, sitting up and kissing him quickly before taking your turn in the bathroom. And you do your best to look like you hadn’t just had sex, brushing your hair and splashing some cool water over your flushed skin.

After changing out of your pyjamas you head back downstairs with Trevor to have breakfast, despite it now being early afternoon. You’re grateful to find that everyone was outside, leaving you and Trevor to have some time to fully recover from what happened upstairs alone. 

You make breakfast together, hands on each other during any spare moment. After you finish eating you clean the kitchen before making your way out to the beach. The last bit of your anxiety and worry about causing issues on the trip fade once you’re outside and everyone seems to be back to having a great time, nobody asking questions or making comments about it.

You spend the rest of the afternoon on the beach, heading inside with everyone to have some drinks and hang out. Late into the night you find Trevor, taking his hand and pulling him aside. “Want to go down to the beach with me for a bit?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Trevor follows you to the beach, sitting next to you. 

“Crazy day,” you comment, leaning back to lay on the soft sand, hoping you wouldn’t end up with sand in your hair, though you weren’t worried enough to not lay down. 

“Yeah,” Trevor mumbles, laying down next to you. 

The sound of the gentle ways rolling onto the shore fill your ears, mixed with the chirping of crickets in the distance. Neither of you say anything more for a little while, taking in the moment, thinking back over the details of the day, wrapped up in your thoughts. 

Staring at the bright stars in the night sky you lift your forearm, waiting till Trevor follows your lead before sliding your hand into his. “So, what now?” you whisper, turning your head to look at Trevor. 

You know he understands exactly what you’re asking by the length of time it takes him to say anything. “How does Anaheim sound?”

“For?” 

“You…us.”

Your breath catches in your throat and before you have sufficient time to really think it through you’re nodding in response. But even if you had enough time to think it through, Anaheim did always sound like a good idea. 

[cococharm]

Hello, may I request something for DPR Ian where readers meet his friends?

I understand if you are busy or don't want to take this request 💕

Impressions

Pairing: DPR Ian x GN!reader Genre: Romance, Fluff Warnings: established relationships, Characters: Summary: Y/n meets Christian's friends for the first time. AN: Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I decided to use their stage name instead of their real name, so people don't get confused.

I tugged nervously at the hem of my shirt as Christian led me into the dimly lit bar. The place had a intimate vibe, with warm lights casting a soft glow over the wooden tables and leather booths. I wasn't sure what to expect when he suggested a casual night out, but it wasn't this.

"Are you okay?" Christian asked, his voice low and soothing as he squeezed my hand.

"Yeah, just a little nervous," I admitted, giving him a small smile. "It's not every day I meet your friends."

He chuckled, pulling me closer as we weaved through the crowd. "You'll be fine. They're going to love you. I mean, how could they not?"

I appreciated his confidence, but my stomach still fluttered with nerves. Meeting Christian's friends felt like a big step, a glimpse into a part of his life that I hadn't yet been privy to. I knew how close he was with his crew, the people he worked with and trusted, so I wanted to make a good impression.

“Hey, guys!” Christian called out, catching their attention. “I want you to meet someone.”

All eyes turned to us as we reached the table. Christian gently nudged me forward, his hand resting reassuringly on the small of my back.

“This is Y/N,” he said, his voice full of pride. “My girlfriend.”

The group greeted me with warm smiles and enthusiastic hellos, and I couldn’t help but relax a little. They seemed friendly, welcoming even. Christian introduced each of them one by one—there was Live, Cream, and several others.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Live said, extending his hand with a grin. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah, Christian doesn’t shut up about you,” Cream added, teasingly nudging Christian, who just rolled his eyes with a grin.

I laughed, feeling my nerves start to melt away. “All positive things, I hope?”

“Of course!” Live said, patting the seat next to him. “Come, sit down. We’ve got plenty of room.”

Christian and I slid into the booth, and the conversation quickly resumed. I listened intently as they joked and shared stories, their camaraderie evident in every word. It was easy to see why Christian cherished these people—they were like a family, a close-knit group that had each other’s backs no matter what.

As the night wore on, I found myself slowly being pulled into their world. They were funny, down-to-earth, and full of energy. They asked me questions about myself, genuinely fascinating in getting to know me, and shared stories about their adventures with Christian.

Christian whispered in my ear at one point, his arm wrapped casually around my waist.

I smiled up at him, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “I can see why you care about them so much.” I whispered.

“They already like you,” he said softly, his eyes shining with affection. “But then again, who wouldn’t?”

Before long, I was laughing along with the group, feeling more at ease than I ever expected. We talked about everything from music to travel, and I even got to hear a few embarrassing stories about Christian’s past that had me in stitches.

Eventually, the night began to wind down. The bar had emptied out a bit, and the energy had shifted to a more relaxed, mellow vibe. Christian’s friends started making their goodbyes, one by one, each of them giving me a warm farewell.

“It was great meeting you, Y/N,” Cream said as he gave me a quick hug. “You’re welcome to hang with us anytime.”

“Thanks,” I replied, feeling genuinely touched. “I’d love that.”

Once everyone had left, Christian and I were the only ones left at the table. He glanced at me, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” he said, leaning in to kiss my temple.

I smiled, leaning into his touch. “You were right. They’re amazing, Christian. I really enjoyed tonight.”

He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “I’m glad you did. It means a lot to me that you got along with them.”

I hugged him back, feeling a sense of contentment settle over me. Meeting his friends had been nerve-wracking, but now that it was over, I realized it was a huge step in our relationship—a step that brought us even closer.

As we walked out of the bar hand in hand, I felt a renewed sense of belonging. Christian had opened up another part of his world to me, and I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be—right by his side.

[pinazee]

First season wrap up:

Okay, to start, i should mention my general opinion on first seasons for shows, especially cable shows, is not to read too much of it as canon. The writers, producers, actors- everyone- are all trying to figure out what works and what doesn’t, so i give them latitude, particularly when it conflicts with later seasons. That being said, i do enjoy jumping through the hoops to make it all fit haha

So heres a few leftover notes i had as i revisited the eps to rank them:

I bet part of Lassie was craving the father figure in Henry, since we find out later his own father passed away when he was quite young. I wonder if thats part of the reason why he became a cop, as they are portrayed as the protectors and in the 80’s they were mainly men (i don’t really remember if he states his reason later, i suspect he did and im just not remembering). So when Henry didn’t meet up to the expectation he had in his mind, i bet it hurt a little more as it reminded him of what he lost :/

I think the other reason Shawn plays dumb so much, besides hiding his genius so ppl believe hes psychic, or for laughs, is because its how he gets people talking. Like in Shawn vs. the red phantom, he purposely guessed the wrong room number so the boys would correct him. My apologies if someones pointed this out before, i haven’t combed through the internet for everyone’s theories 😬 i only now noticed. I’m not the quickest at picking these things up lol

If i had to guess, Shawn didn’t want to be a cop for halloween, he probably wanted to be something star wars related to go with Gus’s Lando. So i wonder at what age Shawn stopped trying to please his dad. But also, why didn’t his mother ever stand up for him?? I’ll come back to her later -_-

I somehow missed it the first time, but shawn clearly asked Gus to come to the dinner and Gus even points out that it was a big deal for henry to reach out. Soo, yeah, shawn obviously didn’t wanna be alone with his dad, and even henry seemed nervous about it as hes pretty drunk.

Shawn has a right to be afraid of pointy things, his dad hid his easter eggs under glass when he was 6! Not to mention he later gets stabbed 3 times! (Also its just a legitimate fear???)

So far the list of Shawns knowledge (things i wouldn’t expect an average person to know) includes (beyond the obvious observational skills, deductive reasoning, reading people (poker), and all things police (marksmanship, police codes, etc.)):

Incredible spatial and physical reasoning skills (knowing how much money could fit in the duffle bag, knowing to rotate the water pitcher to catch the reflection from the tv)

Kurt Vonnegut (well, I didn’t know who he was at least)

How to spell aggiornamento (and probably all words because of his photographic memory)

Handwriting expert

Casually spoke and understood german

Has every road he’s driven mapped in his brain, and likely all of Santa Barbara

Familiar with paint (enough to know to mix latex enamel for no messy drips)

Animal tracks (i went back and forth on this but ultimately decided he must have known what to look for)

And heres a list of Gus’s niche interests:

Forensics

Spelling bee

Safe cracking

Historic rifles

Comic books

Astronomy (even though he was going to the planetarium for the girl)

Law

Local tennis

Online poker

Lastly, Ive decided instead of ranking them, im putting them in tiers. I feel like too many of them are hitting at the same level and I can’t differentiate:

Sweetest, Juiciest Golden Pineapple Tier

Scary Sherry, Biancas toast (ohmygod i just got the biancas toast 🤦🏽‍♀️)

Blue Psych Logo Tier

Weekend warriors

Forget me not

From the earth to starbucks

Poker? I hardly know her! (Sorry @pineapple-psychic!)

Pepto Bismo Pink Tier

Spelling bee

Pilot

She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me oops hes dead

Who ya gonna call?

Shawn vs the red phantom

Oops Canadian Flag Tier

Cloudy with a chance of murder

9 lives

Game set muuurder

Speak now or forever hold your piece

Woman seeking dead husband, smokers okay, no pets

[askinkiskarma]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ɪ - ʜᴀɴᴅᴊᴏʙ

pairing: Neteyam x avatar!reader

a/n: hi and welcome to kinktober x if this first work seems familiar, that's bc it is lol. i have been so so busy and so i have decided that for prompts that fit some of my previous work, i'd give myself a little grace and use those instead. now, i think this works great because there's a lot of new besties here, so this way people get to read some of my earlier work and (hopefully) enjoy it for the first time!! i can't wait to go on this journey with you 🎃🧡 smooches x

words: 1,3k

warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: oral - male receiving, inexperienced Neteyam.

taglist (x)

Being a human had its perks, and being an avatar, well, that goes without saying. One of the perks, turns out, was the wealth of information available to you at the touch of the button. Say what you want about the Sky People, but they were informed in things you could barely even conceive, and well, you've always loved to learn. You spent your whole life learning everything you could get your hands on, from more useful things, like how to patch a wound or how to treat an infection to... less useful things for day to day endeavours, but definitely intriguing to you.

There was a lot in Hell's Gate that the Na'vi and the scientists that were granted leave to stay were unaware of, and you were glad. Your research led you to unearth some... unsightly discoveries, that you were more than happy to have to put to good use right now, after a relaxing swim in the nearby lake, with your best friend that... has some questions. Well, you were nothing if not a good friend, and a dutiful teacher.

His eyes were wide as you smile and push him until he falls to the ground with a small thud. It was quiet in the forest, only the small chirps and trills of the animals living peacefully could be heard over the sounds of both your laboured breaths. He was anxious, you noted, based on his fluttering ears and his erratic tail wags.

"Are you nervous, Tay?" you couldn't help the teasing tone of your voice, as you traced your fingers down his body, from his collarbone, to his chest, down his defined abs, until you hooked your fingers in the band of his loincloth, tugging at it gently.

"Let me make you feel good, Tay. Let me show you what it feels like to be human for a little while."

With that, you untied his tewng and let it fall to the floor, and you gasped a little at his size. He was bigger than you expected, and the sight aroused you beyond belief, beyond words and comprehension, because if before this was just supposed to be a learning experience, now you knew that while he would get his, you would definitely get yours, too.

Almost inquisitively, with a tinge of wonder and awe, you run your fingers over the patterned stars of his length, from the base to the cotton candy pink tip, marvelling at his beauty and how nothing you've ever seen before in movies or magazines could ever compare to it. You tighten your grip and smirk when a sudden inhale broke through the silence and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes, that were tightly shut as his head was pushed back, and you knew then you wanted to see this face, see how he reacts to you, to your lessons, every day of your life.

"...f-fuck!"

You slowly start pumping him, taking your time, analysing each contraction of his facial muscles, thrilled at how he's falling apart around you and you haven't even properly started yet. When the tip becomes covered in pre-cum, you can't resist the need anymore, and you slowly inch your lips towards it, a little startled when Neteyam gets up suddenly, concern deeply embedded in his features.

"W-what are you doing?"

A hand still pumping him, you placed the other on his chest, pushing him back, willing him back in the same position he was in before.

"Shh, relax, tay. you wanted to learn, right?"

With that, you placed a small, gentle kiss on the tip, licking every drop of pre-cum, and you were shocked at how sweet it was, how you wouldn't mind having it coat your tongue, and your mouth, and your throat, until it was all you could taste. You shuffled uncomfortably at the ache that took over you, and how good you knew his cock would feel filling you, how just the stretch itself would bring you to the brink of orgasm. Maybe next lesson.

You couldn't help taking more of him in, your tongue pushed flat against his length as it went further down your throat until you gagged slightly around it. The groan that escaped Neteyam, low and uninhibited, emboldened you as you started a steady bob of your head up and down his length, one hand continuing to pump what you couldn't reach otherwise, while the other rubbed circles into his thigh, hoping this way he wouldn't overthink this and just relax. After all, what were friends for if not to help each other... learn and unwind?

His hand finds your hair and you purr against his cock when he starts petting you, the little gesture enough to make you excited for when he'd be experienced enough to take charge, the way you knew he had it in him.

"You feel so good. S-so good, fuck."

His hips buck against you and you moan as he slips further down your throat, as he starts thrusting in your mouth, and you let him, impressed about how quickly he seems to catch on and turned on about how his first instinct was to immediately take control. This would be easier than you thought.

"I'm gonna, i'm cu-"

Ropes of cum shoot down your throat as his cock throbs in your mouth, and the noises he makes, carnal and primal, make you slowly start grinding against the ground to find some of your own release. You make sure to suck him dry as he pulls out with a small pop, and you smirk as you lick your lips, watching him trying to catch his breath, watching him panting and slowly regaining him composure.

"Enjoy yourself, friend?"

"So... when's the next lesson?"

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @

[igglemouse]

Simón settled in the cushions of a cheap trailer home, staring down at a rug that had likely been planted on the floor so long that it now stuck to it thanks to the Oasis Springs heat. His thoughts churned of a past that he had so desperately clung to because she was part of that past. He was sure that seeing her again would give him some release, lure him into a contentment of what used to be but he found himself only thinking more about what could have been or maybe, what still can be.

He hoped that she would have changed. Made it easier for him. Slam the door in his face and shut him out, giving him the perfect excuse to move on, to let his memories remain memories instead of transforming into hopes.

Instead, she had done the opposite. She had welcomed him into her house and back into her life, without much hesitation at that. During their brief conversation he found that she had changed, he couldn't tell you exactly what had changed about her but it was enough to make her someone slightly different. She had put her trauma behind her...or maybe she had locked it up inside of her, either way, she was a stronger and better person now. That he could tell.

If only he had changed with her. In the end, he was the same guy in a new location. Just another lowly criminal doing a job he didn't want to do but one he needed to do.

He thought to get out, the trailer was cramped as it was and the heat, which seeped in despite AC, made staying inside uncomfortable. It was only slightly better outside there was at least fresh air and also a bright and energetic bark that put a smile on his face.

The rest of the trailer park might have been demotivating for others but for Simón it was exactly what he needed, it was change. Frida had told him that she would make her way to Simerica for that reason alone and he knew that if he were to find happiness it would only be due to change.

But only changing things that he could as he understood there would be no change to how he felt about Frida. He might have to win her heart all over again but he felt he was up to the task.

"Ziggy! What you been up to this morning, huh?" he calls out and gets a bark in reply along with the dog running up to him for more attention. He wasn't sure of the dogs breed but he was more than sure that it adored him and while he wasn't sure what the future held between him and Frida he had at least known that he had won the heart of this dog.

I feel like the more simoleons I make the more I need, or is it want? I'm not sure and perhaps the line is blurred. The recent surge of simoleons should make me feel content but then I think about how much I worked for what I have and how hard I worked and I begin to wonder if it is sustainable?

I could look for a job. Something a little more stable and certain? Maybe even look for a place seeking a line chef? It's an option, I suppose, but for now I'll focus on cooking for my own little stand. I make enough to pay rent but I do always want more.

My morning plan was more of the usual. A bit of cooking so that I can always keep my stand full, especially with waffles, but unfortunately I was going to need a new morning plan because the moment I turn on my waffle maker it pops, fizzes, and nearly explodes.

I sigh, calling a mechanic and pushing that plan to the side. Instead, tending my flower bushes since they are safe from exploding, at least I hope so.

I can't complain too much because I've found success in such a short time here, so much so that rent is no longer a looming presence. I'm not only able to pay it but I have a little left over to to add a pinch of flair to my home. Some hanging plants, art, and even a new television add some character to my living space. I find that I do like the finer things in life!

The surest way to more simoleons will be more delicious foods and now is the perfect time to debut tacos! I admit to being a little nervous, after all, people will see me and my stand and expect greatness from my tacos but I'm not quite sure they'll be at that level quite yet. Not only that but Oasis Springs has a pretty large Selvadoradian population who will also have their own expectations and I just hope to live up to them.

Despite my anxiousness I make sure I put my all into the process. Handling each step with care and the end result, I think, is a batch of tacos I can be proud of.

I'm not sure why I doubted tacos, never doubt tacos! I thought when I started that there might be some chance that I'll be able to have one myself, I usually take a plate of something left over after selling but there was literally nothing left.

I pulled in over 700 simoleons as a result and it was done pretty easily, if I might brag? Maybe the finer things in life are not so far away after all.

Being a content creator with a few fans paid well, well enough to where he could book a room at one of the more pricier places in Oasis Springs on a whim.

He wasn't going to be here long. Oasis Springs wasn't a huge city but it was nice enough to stay and probably better to live in and he felt it would be a nice detour before his usual annual summer trip in Del Sol Valley.

What he would do while here he didn't know but he was sure he could find some content in this dry desert town...

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