#it’s been a pretty easy day so far thankfully!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miraclewoozi · 1 month

Text

FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE. -l.c

pair : dino x fem!reader. prompt : “say you want me, and i’m yours.” SMUT. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. wc : 5k. heads up / smut tags : ex-boyfriend!chan. everyone’s down horrendous. drinking/some alcohol consumption prior to the fucking (they aren’t drunk tho). chan is able to lift reader and carry her a short distance. oral (f rec). backshots. unprotected p-in-v sex. reader has solid arch game. chan calls reader good girl/pretty girl/ baby. it’s all very needy. notes : i had idubilu chan on the brain for a big portion of writing. this was supposed to be a drabble and then ended up longer than some of my actual fics, so. bon appetite i guess?

There’s a list of places you think you’d be okay to run into one of your exes.

In the grocery store, for starters. At the gym. In a bar, at your favourite pizza place, the library… None of them would exactly be fun, but one way or another, you believe that they would all be quite manageable.

Further down are family events. While on a date with someone else. At the beach, or a swimming pool. A doctors office. Considerably more uncomfortable. Would probably warrant a large glass of wine as soon as you got home. You would live, though. No doubt about it.

But at a wedding? Not only is it not on there, it’s quite high up on its own index.

The Crisis List.

Yet this is the position in which you find yourself on this beautiful summer’s evening. You suppose it’s sort of what you get for letting yourself be set up with a friend of a friend while you were in college and mixing your social circles: this is some sort of twisted, universal revenge. But of all the places you’ve pictured running into Chan and succeeding to pace yourself through awkward small-talk before parting ways again… you never imagined that a celebration of eternal love would be the setting.

You recognised the sound of his voice pretty much as soon as you arrived, but you were thankfully seated on opposite sides of the aisle during the ceremony itself. It was therefore pretty easy to keep your eyes off him and instead focus on what was going on at the front of the room. This wasn’t so simple when you only knew one other person at your table during the dinner service and Chan was seated barely ten feet away, and every time you glanced over to him, he was blowing bubbles and entertaining a group of young kids. Every time he laughed, or even every time he made one of them laugh, your head would snap over on instinct. Though you locked eyes with him a few times, mostly you were able to look away again before he had the chance to catch you.

Regardless, seeing that brilliant smile from across the room full of strangers made your stomach twist, so much so that you couldn’t even finish your dessert.

Thus far, the day has passed without any real incident; dinner was three hours ago and you’ve managed to avoid him almost perfectly. You keep telling yourself that if you can just make it a little while longer, you’ll be able to go back upstairs and retire to your hotel room, and maybe even eventually, this will become another one of those memories you can laugh about with your friends.

Just a little while longer.

In the meantime, a stool at the very end of the bar is your sanctuary and it has been for so long that your ass has started to go numb. With more people in attendance at the reception than there were at the ceremony and dinner portions of the day, you’re doing a pretty fantastic job keeping your distance from Chan. His friends, too. Everyone, if you’re being completely honest: with your back to the room at large, you could forgive anyone here for assuming that you peaked early, got wasted and just no longer have the legs to move from your perch.

But the truth is that you’re still nursing the same flute of champagne you were given on your way in. Still drawing your fingertip round and around the rim of the same glass, wiping off the lipstick marks you leave with every tiny new sip. Still watching the same bubbles rise up and burst at the same surface. You’re about as sober as anyone on the planet has ever been.

At least, almost certainly, you’re the most sober adult in the building.

You know it’s not exactly fair to have removed yourself from the fun like this on the happiest day of your friends’ lives. You’re overjoyed for them, you really are, and you sort of wish you could just shake this off and go about your business, pretending he’s not here so that you could enjoy yourself properly. You’ve never claimed to be the life and soul of the party, but you know being so distant is a new look on you.

If only it was as easy as simply caring less.

But you’re surrounded by happy couples and faced with the man who is the definition of ‘right person, wrong time’. How can you possibly think about anything else?

Your spine tingles with the feeling of someone hovering behind you and you pick your glass up into your hand, ready to spin around and tell a concerned bride — for the fifth time — that you promise, you’re okay. To keep up the lie about the bellyache you’ve been pretending to have for an hour now just to get her to go back to her party. You square your shoulders and put a smile onto your face, but you don’t have the chance to turn around and put up a façade. The person — who is decidedly not who you were expecting — appears to your right instead, a solid frame in a black suit swallowing up your periphery. Your excuses fade away to static in your brain.

“Is this seat taken?” Chan asks, fingertips brushing over the leather of the chair adjacent to you. “Are you… waiting for someone?”

You shake your head, taking a deep breath. There’s no running away now. “Nope. All yours.”

He swings one leg over the stool and settles into it, both hands resting up on the bar. He, too, twitches his fingers against his glass. He, too, fails to even glance at you.

“Been a while, huh?” He says after a few seconds. Even though music continues playing behind you both, it’s nowhere near as loud as the thick, uncomfortable silence that had started to settle between you.

A while is sort of a massive understatement. You haven’t seen him in… four? Five years? Not since you left college and he accepted the job offer of a lifetime, pulling him all the way to the other side of the country. Not since, despite your shared willingness to try, you realised that the whole long-distance thing didn’t work for either of you; not since you ended up calling time on your relationship after just four months of being apart.

Ending things meant saying goodbye to amost two and a half years though, in total.

You’d you’d never been broken up with over a video call before. It fucking sucked.

“I didn’t know you were around,” you say instead of answering the obvious. “Are you just here for this, or…?”

Chan takes a long sip from his drink and finishes the glass, pushing it away from himself. He shakes his head, scrunching his nose a little. You were surprised not to see him with some sort of a whiskey in-hand, so his reaction to the chug makes sense: he was never that big into wines. Some things never change.

“I got promoted. Came with a relocation,” he tells you. This time, he turns his head and looks at you properly, a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips.

“Oh, shit. Congratulations,” you offer, tilting your now mostly empty glass in his direction before draining the little bit in the bottom, just like he did. You know it’s probably all in your own head that the fizz gives you a bit of a confidence boost, but you find the nerve to move to face him fully: you’ve never been one to turn your nose up at a positive coincidence, after all. “That’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head. “It’s… good to be back.”

A few seconds later, he tags on, “and it’s really good to see you.”

The bartender comes back to see if she can get you anything else to drink now you’ve finally finished your champagne and Chan puts his card down for a round of your choosing. It helps loosen up the tension in your shoulders, stops you bouncing your leg against the rest beneath your seat, makes it a little bit easier to settle into a back and forth with him. Eventually, the conversation starts to flow as if you were never really apart.

You laugh at his bad jokes. Chan shoves you playfully when you make some back. He gets so invested in catching up on what’s been going on in your life that he doesn’t even tell you what the promotion he got is, nor where he’s been relocated to.

As the following few hours tick by, he doesn’t leave your side. Even when people come over to talk to him, even when your friends’ eyes start to find you together and linger, as they attempt to read your lips, pick apart your body language, as they begin whispering behind their hands. He takes exactly one bathroom break, and he finds his way straight back to the chair he left. He even scoots it a little bit closer.

And the longer he stays glued to your left, the more you find yourself starting to hope a little harder that wherever he’s living now, it’s not too far away. That whatever him being ‘back’ means, something happens because of it.

Your something comes in the form of your companion trying to persuade you to get up and dance with him. He fails, numerous times; you have a whole arsenal of excuses, some of which are recycled and things that he heard a very long time ago, but others are new. He raises his eyebrows at a couple of them, though you don’t know if he’s just shocked at your attempts or actually impressed. None of them work on him though. You should have remembered that he wasn’t a quitter.

“My shoes hurt,” you tell him on attempt number five. “You go, I’ll stay here.”

Clearly, this line of defence isn’t good enough either.

“Just one song,” Chan asks again as he stands up from his chair and picks up one of your wrists, this time. You look down at where he’s holding you, but he doesn’t. “Please? Just… for me?”

“When was the last time I did anything ‘just for you’?” You scoff incredulously, shaking your head.

It doesn’t. His eyes soften and he takes a small step closer to you, those perfect lips of his pressing into a pout.

He drops his fingers lower and squeezes your hand lightly. “Too long ago. I miss it.”

Something in his stare looks a little far away and you wonder what exactly it is that he’s thinking about. Is he remembering the times you would bring him his favourite snacks when he was sick, ice his injuries after gruelling dance practices, brush sleep out of his eyes early in the mornings when he stayed up too late and couldn’t get out of bed, but really needed to make it to his 8AM classes? Is he remembering when you’d put band-aids on his papercuts? Make sure his laptop was fully charged when he had long study days? Pick him and his friends up from the bars and let him lean all his weight against you as you dragged him into your apartment?

(Those needy nights where you’d let him call you the prettiest girl in the world as he snuggled into your side and nuzzled his cold nose against your warm cheek? When you’d let him tell you, without even rolling your eyes, that you were his everything, the reason he had any strength, the love of his life, the only person he’d ever need—)

He uses your distractedness to his full advantage; as soon as the muscles in your arm go slack, he pulls you again and this time succeeds in getting you to your feet. You stumble a few steps towards him and he ends up leading you all the way over to the dance floor, grinning proudly the entire time.

“One song,” you stress, hanging your head to try and conceal the fact that you’re definitely blushing hard.

“Just one,” he lies, glancing back at you.

You know he's lying, too. High-flying job aside, he’s always been a dancer at heart: when he turns around to face you, there’s a glint in his eyes that says ‘one... or five.’

Confirming your suspicions, seven songs later, you’re still up there with him. You’ve stopped caring about your dumb shoes, or having too many sets of eyes on you, or whether anyone here is murmuring about it. How could you mind, when he keeps finding little ways to touch you again? When he’s singing his heart out, serenading you with corny 90’s love songs, hand on his heart and everything?

How could you mind, when he so clearly doesn’t care?

And the thing is… no part of you thinks that this is a bad idea. It could never be a bad thing to let somebody make your heart race this way and your brain so fuzzy; just seeing him grin at you as he extends his hand out, waiting for you to take it, feels like being twenty one all over again. And when he spins you and spins you and spins you until you’re dizzy, falling over your own feet and staggering until you land against his solid chest, laughing… when he catches you in both arms, and darts his tongue out over his lips at the exact moment you look at his face…

Perhaps your rare moment of unabashed bravery is spurred on by the way he drinks you up like an elixir. Perhaps it’s spurred on by the way he adjusts himself to hold you tighter against him, perhaps it’s spurred on by the fact that this right here is exactly what you feel like you’ve been missing. Whatever the reason, you hook a finger through one of the belt-loops on his pants and manage to find your voice long enough to speak.

“My room or yours?” You ask, quietly enough only for him to hear, loudly enough that he can’t mistake you.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, he brings his palm up between your shoulder blades. “Don’t care,” he says, ducking lower and brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Just… pick one. As soon as possible.”

A few people have already started to leave: couples with young families, older relatives who are getting tired, friends who have work in the morning, so you don’t feel too bad about slipping out into the corridor with Chan in tow as soon as you’ve grabbed your things. The elevator door closes behind you and you feel the mechanism start to pull you upwards, away from the hotel’s function room and towards the fourth floor to your own suite. Chan presses kiss after kiss to the back of your neck as soon as you’re alone, hands slipping around your waist and joining together just below your belly-button.

“They have… cameras in these, you know,” you sigh, tilting your head to give him better access anyway.

He chuckles quietly, nosing just behind your ear. “Okay?” He says, kissing you there too, bunching your dress in his hand and pulling it a little higher up your thigh. “So what?”

“So… fucking… public indecency,” you laugh, a little taken aback by his brazenness.

It’s hard to be stern with him when he’s acting as if he never forgot how to press every single one of your buttons. Hell, as if he never stopped pushing them, in the first place. You lay one hand over both of his and squeeze gently, encouraging his teeth to keep grazing over the skin of your shoulder. You’ve never had any resolve when it comes to him. He clearly hasn’t forgotten.

Just as you’re relaxing into it, the elevator pings and you jolt away from him just in time for the door to open. The middle aged woman waiting to get in eyes you both as you rush out into the hallway and Chan grabs hold of your hand: you’re fairly sure she sucks her front teeth just before the door closes, but you don’t care. You’re too busy counting the rooms until you get to yours.

409, 410, 411…

“You look so fucking good right now,” Chan groans as you whip turn a corner and he quickens his pace to catch up, walking so fast he should probably be running instead.

421, 422…

“423,” you breathe, fumbling in your purse for the key-card.

In a flash, you wave it over the sensor and pull down on the handle: before you have the chance to get dizzy from the speed of the turn, Chan has you pressed against the door from the inside. He doesn’t wait to be invited. He barely gives you the chance to catch your breath from your power-walk from the reception. Both his hands press into your hips when he brings his mouth down against yours, lips scorching hot, lifted up at the edges in a grin. Your knees go weak and you hold onto his biceps for stability, which… maybe, with how thick and sturdy they feel beneath your palms, isn’t a great way to help you calm down.

When his tongue presses into your mouth and he tastes you for the first time in what feels like forever, you know the only thing keeping you standing is his strength. His hands, pinning you to the wood behind you. His body, pressing against you everywhere it possibly can. His muscular thigh, slotted between yours, giving you something to relax down against but also, to find a tiny little bit of friction from.

He dips down a little lower, looping his hands around you just below your ass, and with a quick movement he lifts you up off the floor completely. You hook your ankles together behind him, shifting to get higher up on his hips: when he steps away from the door, you drop your head down to his shoulder and a smirk replaces his prior very needy expression, feeling how warm you are at your core now your dress has hiked up around your waist.

“Say you want me,” he says, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. He knows you do.

“Huh?”

Chan repeats, “say you want me.”

You grasp harder at his hair and pull, but he doesn’t move away from your neck, just keeps kissing you at your sweet-spot until he’s walked a few paces to the middle of the room, holding you up over the hotel’s generously sized bed.

“Say you want me, and I’m yours.”

He’s… yours?

It takes you a moment to process it but you don’t have to think twice about how you respond, even though your stomach flips at this very open-hearted confession. The entire way back up here, part of you expected this to be little more than a one-night-only special event, but…

“Shit,” you whine, feeling his fingers slip beneath the thin fabric of your underwear at your hip and tug. He pulls back from you at the sound of your voice, determined to look you in the eyes when you say it.

Faces just inches apart, you admit, “I– I want you, Chan. Please. I want you so much.”

He bounces you up a little bit higher to get you to unhook your ankles and proceeds to basically drop you down onto the mattress, pushing both his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and reaching for his necktie. In a manner you can only describe as obscenely smooth, he grabs the knot and pulls, tugging it side to side to make it looser. The expensive silk comes undone easily. He balls it in his fist. You watch him toss his tie to the side, snap open a few more buttons, and with heavily lidded eyes, he plants one knee on the comforter, before crawling up the length of your body until you’re face-to-face again.

You take care of the remaining buttons on his shirt for him as he trails his lips all over your throat, your chest, your shoulders: even down your arms, to the crooks of your elbows, everywhere he can reach with your clothes still on. When his upper body is bare, he disregards the fact that you’re still wearing anything at all and kisses down your torso anyway.

He lays between your thighs and presses his lips to them, too, pushing your dress up higher until it’s bunched up around your ribcage. One of his hands pushes your panties to the side and the other one reaches up to grab hold of yours, pulling it down to lace your fingers back into his hair. You do as he silently asks, and you swear his eyes roll back into his head at the first little pull.

Chan always liked giving, but he loved it when you used him like a little toy, tugging and moving him around until you couldn’t handle him anymore.

Some things never change.

You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to do this. That you could take him now, if he wanted to hurry and get to it, because you’re already feeling yourself flutter at the thought of having him buried inside you. But his lips part and you feel the tip of his tongue drag through your folds, separating them, exposing you; he collects your arousal and swallows it back, pressing his tongue into your hole, swirling it around your clit, sending sparks up and down your spine.

That ridiculous, stupid idea dies magnificently. You let Chan lose himself in you, and in equal parts, you lose yourself in him. In the cold bite of the ring decorating his middle finger as he trails them down your sensitive skin, in the way he grunts and moans and praises you between your legs. You selfish– and selfless–ly let him have his way, right up until you feel so tense you could snap.

Sure, you could let yourself come undone like this. Easily. In seconds, even, because he’s got you right there and you’re battling not to let it wash over you. But there’s something you need even more than the euphoria of your own release.

You scrunch your fist in his strands so hard that it forces him to pull away from you, gasping and cringing at the sting. At this, before he has the chance to ask what’s wrong, why you’ve stopped, if you’re okay, you press up onto one elbow, straps hanging off your shoulders, your own hair a mess. Somehow, Chan still looks up at you with glittering eyes, so shiny you can see their sweet, questioning gaze even in the dark.

“Need you, now,” you tell him, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He wipes over his lips on the back of his hand and nods, pulling himself up onto his knees. You let go of him and tug your dress up over your head while he fiddles with the buckle on his belt.

“Flip over,” he says huskily, tugging it free just as quickly as he did with his tie, and when it thunks to the floor, you hear him start to move his pants down his legs too.

You do as he says, turning onto your front, bracing yourself on your knees with your hands clasped together beneath your head. Your back arches naturally for him, pressing your hips higher into the air; his breath catches at the sight of you, your perfect ass, your dribbling pussy.

It’s his favourite view. Always has been. Shit, nothing since the last time he was with you has ever come close.

“Deep breath for me,” he says, so soft in comparison to the way his fingers on one hand grasp at your hip and you feel the blunt edges of his nails digging into your skin. You inhale through your mouth, loud enough for him to hear. “That’s it. My good girl.”

He’s so fucking hard when he finally drags his tip through your folds, so heavy and thick when he pushes inside you inch by inch. The stretch is more intense than you remember, and despite slowly letting the breath you sucked in leave your lungs, you feel all of your muscles go tense. Your eyes squeeze shut. Your torso goes tight. You know your cunt hugs him because of how he lets go of his length and lays his hand flat in the middle of your back, dragging his thumb back and forth, trying to soothe you through it.

“Easy,” he says to you, slowing but not stopping until he’s buried all the way inside you. He’s so deep, you swear he nudges something he shouldn’t. So far inside you that you don’t know what to do with yourself. “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

It’s a little difficult when you feel more full now than you ever have, but slowly, you manage to loosen up and it’s only when you give a small nod of your head and an 'mhm' that he starts to rock his hips back and forth. Shallow, to start with, but with the angle he slides into you at, he might as well be going full depth, full force, full speed with how feverish this already is. You bunch the comforter in your fist, letting those familiar sensations of being fucked by Chan take over, letting the discomfort subside until it's replaced only by pleasure.

By which point, he's stopped treating you like a fragile doll, and has started to handle you like the person he wishes he never lost.

Those dancer hips haven't gone to waste, you realise, as he snaps them fluidly into you, the harsh slap of skin-on-skin punctuating every single sound that escapes you both. Sometimes, he pulls you back, spearing you wholly on his length, letting you do some of the work and control the pace. Sometimes, he holds you completely still so that he can have it all.

At all times, you feel yourself losing your mind piece by piece. Though you've tried to be with other people since that horrendous breakup, it's never managed to stick, and you find yourself thinking that maybe in a way, you were waiting for him. Hoping that one day, he'd waltz his way back into your life and sweep you off your feet and make sure you never forgot just how well he can give it to you. Praying that the universe was going to give you another chance.

One of his hands slips around your waist, now, and you feel him come down lower, pressing his chest against your back. His thrusts stop being so long and instead, he settles for harsh, deep ruts. His fingers find and start strumming over your clit, and you can feel yourself start to break apart with gasps and choked moans and whines of his name.

You're done for, and he knows it, but he still teases you as he kisses up your spine.

"Wanna feel you come, pretty girl," he says. His fingers move so easily that it takes everything you have not to collapse beneath him. “Missed feeling this pretty pussy around me. Wasn’t the same watching you play with it on the phone.”

You hide your face in the comforter and gasp, that beautiful heat starting to rise up inside you again. “Fuck, Chan—”

“That’s it,” he guides you, grunting with every little spasm of your walls. “Missed you so much.”

“I missed— missed—” you try to say, but he finds just the right pattern to make you squeak and you tug harder at the sheets. “Oh my God—”

Your universe explodes as he hits just the right spot inside you and you feel your peak slam through you, hips jerking back to meet his until there’s no room for any air to pass between your bodies. Chan stills, letting you ride yourself through it, easing up a little with the pressure of his fingers but still keeping them moving to milk every ounce of pleasure that he can from you.

With your thighs still shaking, you buckle downwards and he slips out of you unintentionally as you fight to catch your breath. You’re still seeing spots, still trying to put your thoughts in the right order, but when he smooths his hands over your ass and down the backs of your thighs, still up on his knees behind you, you slowly start to come back to Earth.

You slowly move round to lie on your back so you can look up at him, his still hard, now soaked cock sitting heavily against his thigh. He settles his hands on your knees, and you lean over to the side to pass your finger over one of the light switches. The one behind the headboard flickers to life and illuminates him: a sheen of sweat makes his broad frame gleam, his rosy blush makes your chest stutter.

“I missed you too,” you say quietly, unsure now if he was just saying so in the heat of the moment or if it was the truth.

You never needed to worry, though. Not if the way he drops down onto one elbow and kisses your newly regained breath straight back out of your lungs, cupping your cheek with his other hand is anything to go by.

“You meant it, then? You really want me?” He asks, pulling away only to drag his thumb over the corner of your mouth. You nod, turning your head a little and pursing your lips forward, pressing a kiss to his skin.

“I never stopped,” you tell him.

Little celebratory fireworks start to dance in his pretty eyes.

“Yeah?” He breathes, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him. “Good. Neither did I.”

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3 thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3

#lee chan smut #dino smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #dino x you #dino x reader #dino imagines #j writes.#mw500party!#*

241 notes · View notes

macklemore1648 · 1 month

Text

North Shore High

summary: Regina George becomes intrigued by the new girl and wants to know more about her.

being a new student wasn’t always easy, especially when it was your senior year. i didn’t know that walking into my first day of senior year i would run into the queen bitch bee.

“you!” she said with a finger pointing at me. i looked around confused maybe thinking she was talking to someone behind me.

“yes you come here.” i don’t usually listen to people who boss me around or expect they can get any special treatment from anyone, but my legs seemed to have a mind of their own, and next thing i know i was standing right in front of her.

“i um- im new here it’s my first day.” it came out a little bit more quiet than i intended it too.

she nodded and then turned around walking the opposite direction of me. that’s when i had noticed the two girls following after her.

omg. she thinks she runs this place?

“students we have a new student joining you in your home room. miss y/n y/ln. i would like you all to be very respectful and please welcome her.”

“thank you principal Duvall, now go ahead and have a seat y/n this is a very important class and if you don’t listen you might fall behind.” said Mrs. Norbury

i nodded quietly and walked over to an empty desk, thankfully it was more towards the back.

“so what parts are you from around?” said a voice behind me.

“i’m from washington actually.” him and his friend who i just noticed sitting next to him nodded slowly.

“damian and this is janis.” he said pointing in between him and the girl.

“y/n.” you said with a friendly smile.

the next three periods where all pretty much the same, i get introduced and then sit down and listen to the teacher talk for the rest of the class. walking into 4th period i didn’t expect to see the same blonde i had ran into earlier this morning. her eyes where watching me the second i had walked into the classroom, i scanned for empty seats and of course the only seat emptied was right behind her. i avoided eye contact with her while i was walking to the desk.

once i sat down i was immediately hit with the smell of very expensive perfume and was that lavender? shampoo?

i pushed myself as far away from her as i could in my seat that magically stuck to the desk. once the bell rang and the teacher started talking. she turned to face me

“what’s your name loser?” she whipped around quit quickly.

“um it’s y/n.” she nodded slowly looking very deep into my eyes, that made me shift uncomfortably, before turning around.

“your not going to tell me yours?” i leaned a little forward and almost whispered it so the teacher didn’t hear me talking.

“you haven’t heard about me yet?” she turned just enough around that i could see her eyes and a small smirk coming onto her lips.

and she’s full of herself? what the hell is this school?

i didn’t say anything waiting for her to answer with her name.

she rolled her eyes a little bit before answering. “it’s Regina, Regina Grorge.”

i nodded this time slouching back into my seat.

“im kind of a big deal around here.” she said nonchalantly. it was my turn to raise my eyebrows to the sky.

“what are you like the principals daughter? or a drug dealer?”

“no i’m just hot and popular. don’t you agree?” this time she was turned fully around with her hands on my desk and her head titled a little to the side.

i opened my mouth to say something but nothing was coming out. with my mouth slightly opened and my burrows furrowed she smirked and turned back around.

who the hell was this girl?

lunchtime is when i knew i was going to get the most anxiety because everyone already had their groups. i couldn’t just butt into a group and sit at any random table. like any other high school i’ve been too there was the obvious cliches.

the jocks, the goths, the cheerleaders, the band kids, what looked like the stoners?

and then there was Regina and her two other friends that followed her around like lost puppy’s.

“those are the plastics.” i heard the same voice from earlier, i turned to see damian and janis standing behind me.

“the plastics?” i said with one brow raised.

they both nodded slowly at me.

“because they’re too perfect and too pretty like a plastic barbie doll.” they said as if it all made sense.

“i would avoid talking to any of them honestly.”

“y/n!!” i heard Regina say. i turned around to see her using one finger to tell me to come to her. i looked back over and damian and ianis who both just shook their heads to tell me it was a bad idea.

“i’ll be right back.” i really had to let this girl know that i was not one of her lost puppy’s and wouldn’t come to her side whenever she demanded.

“why don’t you sit with us today?” she said in almost too friendly voice i even saw her friend with an expression like a deer caught in headlights.

“Regina she can’t sit with us she doesn’t know any of the rules.” she squeaked out still trying to sound friendly.

“the rules don’t matter right now, go ahead sit.” she said with a smile that looked almost genuine but i wasn’t falling for her traps.

“oh no thanks i already found some people to sit with.” i said with a forced smile.

“then you better sit with us tomorrow or ill be very upset.” she had a very serious look on her face that almost scared me but i just gave her a thumbs up and turned around.

a thumbs up?! are you serious! i mentally slapped myself in the face. remind me never again to give the prettiest girl in school a fucking thumbs up.

finally my first school day was over and i could go back to my house and read peacefully. but of course that didn’t happen because Regina George pulled up right in front of me almost hitting me with her expensive jeep. i was ready to curse her out until i looked up and saw the look on her face.

“i’m having a little get together at my house this weekend, you should come it’ll be a fun way for you to meet people.” she had a small smile and a soft look in her big green eyes.

“here’s my number, text me and i’ll send you the details.” she slid me a piece of paper and let her fingers linger almost a second too long in my hand, before she winked and drove away from the parking lot.

i drove home in my not as expensive honda civic. i played with the piece of paper in my hand and looked down at her number so much to the point i almost memorized it. her numbers where very neat and almost all came together with soft curves.

i didn’t know anything about this girl which sent warning sirens off in my head whenever i looked at her. she seemed like somebody you didn’t want to mess around with.

A/N: i lowkey kinda posted this as a joke- and i wrote it real fast so im sorry if it’s not the best. give me advice yall and if yall want another part. thank you 🫡

#regina x reader #regina george #mean girls

163 notes · View notes

zer0pm · 1 year

Text

Imagine waking up with Luis sleeping on top of you while you both take shelter from the storm.

Warning: suggestive content 🤫

A/N: editted for mistakes and added upon by just a little for your reading pleasure ;) thanks for your time

“Think it’s safe?”

“Only one way to find out. ¡Vamos! Into certain danger we go!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan. This man’s optimism was breathtaking, confident in his strides towards the abandoned looking house that you two discovered. You follow behind him, careful in your own steps and had your gun drawn at the ready in case of any unfriendly encounters. Thankfully, your entrance went unanswered and after a thorough search of the building, you both confirm that the coast is clear. Finally, a safe space to squat and wait out the storm.

Sighing in relief, you didn’t realize how exhausted you were until you took a seat on a rickety wooden chair in what you assumed to be the remains of a dining area. Running around avoiding countless plaga in the pouring rain took a lot of your energy and your weary state did not go unnoticed.

Luis speaks addresses you. “Why don’t you take a rest, my friend? There is a bed upstairs. I do not think the owners will mind it.”

Your brow lifts upon reflex, tempted by the idea of laying on something soft after hours of running for your life. However, the consideration of well-being for your present company outweighed your desire to address your own. So you counter him, “And what about you? You look just as bad as I do.”

The man dismisses your suggestion with a wave of his hand, “I’ll keep watch. Make sure no scary monsters come bumping in the night. No te preocupes, I’ll be fine.”

Always the gentleman this one.

Still, you weren’t going to let him get away with it. Especially at the sight of the dark circles beneath his eyes. Chivalry be damned. You take a moment to absorb your dusty surroundings and listen closely to the weather. The two of you were lucky to even find this place amidst the pouring rain and you were certain there wouldn’t be any uninvited guests coming in to hack you both into pieces anytime soon with how bad this storm is raging.

“Pretty sure we’re safe here, Luis. Can’t see anything in this damn rain and place looks like it hasn’t been occupied in ages. Plus, with Leon Kennedy roaming about, think Saddler is commanding his minions to focus more on him than us.” You wave your finger around the air, figuratively drawing the argument back at him. “So if you need some shut-eye too, I was told there’s a bed upstairs.”

Luis chuckles breathlessly, evidently amused at how you effectively countered him. He then hums aloud, seemingly taking your reasoning with careful consideration before a coy smile curves upon his handsome face.

“Qué lindo. So stubborn just to get me to lie with you.”

The color drains from your face in an instant.

“Now hold on a minute-“

The man cuts you off with a rambunctious laugh. “You’re much too easy to tease, my friend. Very well, then. You win!” he says with an affirmative clap before making his way to the stairs. Halfway up, he stops in his tracks to look down at you. “Well? You coming?”

You wait to see if he would follow up with further teasing. When he didn’t, you wordlessly got up from the chair and joined him. As he said, there is indeed a bed on the far wall of the room. Like the rest of the house, it looks like it had seen better days but neither of you were in a position to be picky especially when sleep was beckoning. You approach the bed and lift the sheets off, dusting as much as you can before setting it back down and doing the same for the pillows. The bed was big enough for two people, so it should be fine to share without worrying about bumping into one another in your sleep.

“There,” you huff, satisfied with how you prepared the bed. “Is there a side you prefe-“

Your voice catches in your throat when you turn around and take in the sight of Luis’ bare back. It was only when you see him fidgeting with the zipper of his pants did you find it again.

“What are you doing?!” you practically screech.

The dark-haired man glances casually at you over his broad shoulder, not at all bothered by your sharp tone.

“What does it look like? I’m making myself comfortable,” shrugs Luis. “I suggest you do the same. You’ll get sick if you sleep in wet clothes.”

The desire to argue for the sake of arguing was strong, but you found yourself distracted by his physique. For a man who claims to be just a “simple researcher”, he is pretty cut. The definitions of his muscles are both impressive and pleasing to the eye. It didn’t help that the man is devilishly good-looking as well, not that you will ever say that out loud. The man’s ego was big enough as it is.

If you were taking too long to speak up, Luis didn’t say. He turned his head away from your direction. “I won’t look, prometo. And I’ll take the left side. Muchas gracias.”

A man of his word, Luis did not once look your way as he wordlessly went to his side of the bed and slips himself beneath the sheets. After a moment of inner conflict, you heed his advice and strip yourself down to your underwear as well, taking your clothes and his to hang off the stair railing. Finally reaching the bed, you see that Luis was still lying on his side. The heavy breathing your ears pick up suggests that he’s fast asleep. Although your heart was beating frantically, you settle under the covers as well. Your form mirroring his with your back towards him. Sleep came quickly.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you woke up, you only know that it is still storming outside… and Luis Serra is on top of you.

His whole body is practically draped over yours. He partially lied with his chest both against the bed and on your side. The heavy weight of his right arm was wrapped around your middle with his hand resting almost possessively on your hip. You can feel his breath fan against your neck, leaving warm, lingering tingles upon your skin. It suddenly felt impossibly hot in this chilly room.

You didn’t need to see the man’s face to know he is still sleeping, snoring soundly against your ear. Careful not to wake him, you tried to move away. However, the moment you fidgeted, Lus stirs and his hand moves from your hip to your shoulder, effectively keeping you in place.

Well, then. This is awkward.

The idea of waking him up came to mind but you thought better against it. Why embarrass you both and deny the other some meaningful rest? That was the excuse you came up with as you feel the man nuzzle against your neck and shoulder. The scratch of his facial hair feeling wonderful against your skin. An involuntary sigh of pleasure escapes your mouth and you had to bite your bottom lip to stop more from coming out. You needed to pull yourself together. The man is sleeping, for god’s sake, and here you were, getting hot and bothered.

Just as you were about to accept your situation with grace, you feel Luis move once more. Followed by a lethargic groan, he twists until he is on his back, withdrawing his hand from your person until it rested on his sculpted abdomen. His eyes are still closed. His expression is peaceful, absent of the coquettish mask he usually wears. The man looks impossibly beautiful like this and you found yourself reaching a curious hand towards his face. You manage to stop right before his cheek, mesmerized by his sleeping form. If lives weren’t on the line, you’d watch him forever.

“How long have you been awake?”

The sound of his thick accent made you jolt, retreating your hand back to your side. You almost thought you were imagining Luis’ voice until your eyes catch the flutter of his lashes. Grey eyes peeking in your direction.

Unable to think of anything better to say, you candidly answer back, “How long have you?”

The Spaniard grins wryly. “Tocado. Point taken.”

He turns his head, his expression telling that the man is well-rested and now focused entirely on you. There was something in his eyes that you cannot place. Or more accurately, there was an emotion within them that you recognized all too well as you were certain you had the same burning in yours but dared not to acknowledge our loud. You mimic his movements, ensnared by his magnetic gaze. When he turned his body so that he was completely facing you, you did the same. Neither of you have broken eye contact. In the corner of your vision, you see him lift his hand until it hovered over your hip at the exact same spot it was before. Luis doesn’t lower it, however, his eyes silently asking for your permission. A slight nod from you was the sign he was waiting for and you are graced by his warm touch once more.

His thumb caresses soft patterns against your hip bone, teasing the skin beneath the band of your underwear. Your breath hitches, his subtle touches already stirring something fierce inside you.

“¡Mierda! Don’t make that face.” the man growls, wearing a serious, pained expression. You blink in confusion. Instead of elaborating right away, Luis earnestly squeezes your hip, earning a wanton gasp from your mouth, and pulls you in against him by the curve of your back.

“If you keep looking at me like that, mi amor,” he says through gritted teeth, his hot breath mingling with yours. “I won’t be able to savor you slowly.”

That undid you.

You weren’t sure which of you two closed the distance. While the storm was pouring freezing rain outside, you and Luis kept one another plenty warm inside.

A/N: Thanks for reading. You can find the next (Rated M) part here ;)

994 notes · View notes

thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed · 10 months

Text

Never Grow Up

Word count: 3.0K

Summary: Taylor's still going on tour despite having a teen kid and reader just wants to spend quality time with her but Taylor's too busy. Reader thought that Taylor would reschedule the tour dates around daughter's birthday until she saw the tour dates being released online. Reader got mad and that was her final straw so the relationship is fractured.

Warnings: angst, single mom, mention of abortion, hurt/comfort

Pairing: Taylor Swift X Daughter!Reader

First time writing for Taylor! Hope you like it💜

———

Being Taylor Swift’s Daughter had it’s own perks and flaws.

She had you in when she was 20, and your father has always been out of the picture. You never got to know him, never met him and never asked about him but as far as you knew, he wasn’t one of the famous Taylor’s exes, he was just a random guy your mother had fallen in love with. She never talked about him, not her, or her family and since the subject was apparently so delicate, not once did you ever dare ask. There weren’t any pictures in the house, not in photo albums… it seemed like everyone had tried deleting his existence.

However it’s not like you ever needed a father figure. Your family always made you feel loved, you had all the attentions you could ever ask for and you have always been happy, no matter where you were in the world. However the first years of your life weren’t easy for your mother. She was still very young herself, but at the same time she was supposed to be going on tours, concerts and make her fans happy, all while also having to take care of you. Thankfully, her mother was a big help in that too. She would help take care of you and watch you when Taylor was on concerts. She was busy, yes but she always, always made time for you, no matter where you were around the world, wether it be a couple days, and some times even a full week, depending on bow busy her schedule was.

Were you a fan of hers? Yes, of course you were. You have no reminiscence of when you were younger, buy ever since you turned 5 you had been going to every concert of hers. You would either stay in the backstage, or in the booth with your grandma, Andrea, with one of the best views in the stadium, and slowly people had started to acknowledge you too. Taylor had never publicly talked about you, buy everyone knew she had a daughter, and it was easy to know it was you, because you were identical, you were like Taylor’s mini-me, and also because of her song “Never Grow Up” which she wrote and published when you were just one year old. You knew every single one of her songs, you screamed each and every one of them while at times Andrea filmed you and posted it on her social, which is how Taylor’s fans found your social and start following you as well.

Going a bit back in time, when she took a break from music, you were just 7, you hoped to spend more and more time with her and you did, but to an extent. Her mental health wasn’t the best, and she was always busy writing/recording songs and getting ready for her next tours, so her time with you became less and less and less, to the point where you’d rarely get to spend time with her, however, you tried.

During Covid you finally got to spend so much time with her, after her Lover Tour was canceled. That’s when you decided to follow in on her footsteps. You were 11 and you already knew how to play the guitar, but you wanted to learn how to play the piano as well. One night you were supposed to be sleeping but you couldn’t, so you went where you knew your mom would be. She was in the soundproof room playing the piano and humming, trying to get ideas for a new song. You stood there at the door, waiting for your mom to acknowledge you. That happened pretty soon. She turned around and saw you standing there, in your pjs as you were holding your favorite teddy bear. Taylor smiled brightly at you and beckoned you to walk over to her.

“Hey little one, why aren’t you asleep yet?” She asked in a low, soothing voice. “I can’t sleep” you said in a tired voice, rubbing your eyes as Taylor made you sit in her lap sideways, so that you were laying your head on her shoulder and she could look at you. She kissed your nose and cheeks and forehead, before moving some wild hair away from your face. “How about I sing to you?” She said with a smile, you looked up at her with your big, wide, sweet (e/c) eyes expectantly and she didn’t even need a reply before she started playing “Never Grow Up” on piano. That song is originally meant for a guitar but here she was, playing it on piano and singing it, turning it into a lullaby only for you to hear.

You were asleep in a matter of seconds, and even though Taylor noticed, she still continued singing until the song was over and then she picked you up and put you into her own bed, staying snuggled up to her for the night, feeling as safe as ever in your mother’s arms. “I love you little one” she whispered.

That was the last time your mother sang something to you.

The last time she cuddled you.

The last time she told you she loved you.

A few weeks after she started planning her Eras Tour. She needed everything ready in such a short matter of time, setlist, choreographies, stage shape and instruments, transitions, lights and all the stuff regarding a regular concert. Not a day went by without her on the phone, or working on her laptop, or in studios either dancing or singing. It was moments like this where you wished you had a father figure. Not even the holidays you two spent together anymore. It was like she had completely forgotten about you, it was like you were just one random person in her house she had to cook for.

Two years later, On another identical night of your mother working, you decided to disturb her, just this once. “Hey mom” you said, walking over and sitting next to her on the couch. She was leaning forwards to the table where her laptop was placed. However, she didn’t reply to you. “Mom?” You asked again. You heard her sigh as she gave you an answer, not taking her eyes off the screen. “Yes, sweetie?” She asked, “Can we watch a movie tonight? Maybe we can order McDonalds and watch something?” You said as you leaned in closer to her, laying your head on her shoulder. “(Y/N) I can’t, I’m busy” she said and for a moment you were quiet as you looked towards the screen of her laptop, you could see she was scheduling the dates for the concert. You just hoped she would have a free day on your fourteenth birthday, like she promised.

“Oh come on, it’s just a movie, only for tonight. Please?” You pouted and wrapped your arms around her, hoping this might convince her. “I said in busy. Tour starts soon and I still need to figure out a few dates” she said and you groaned. “Please mom, we haven’t cuddled in a while-“ she interrupted you by removing your arms around herself. “I said no, (Y/N)!” She said, raising her voice which made you look at her with wide eyes, and kind of in shock. She never raised her voice at you until now. “God these days you’re so bothering, just go sleep!” You knew she didn’t mean it, but in this moment you couldn’t help but be hurt at her words. She couldn’t even be bothered to look at you when you got up and ran to your bedroom, locking yourself in as you cried into the pillow.

That was the last time you asked your mother to cuddle you.

From that day on, you barely talked to her. Not that you even needed to, either way. She was still always on the phone. The only differences where the fact that you’d go to your room immediately after lunch, and not stay and watch TV with her, and you’d go to Andrea’s place all day. She noticed you were sadder than usual. She noticed that you were more cuddly with her than usual. She also noticed you were quieter. When she asked if you were okay, you shrugged and said you were, And she also asked Taylor, who replied telling her that nothing was different, and most likely you were just acting up. It was weird to you, how your mother didn’t realize that she was neglecting you and your grandma had realized that just seeing you a couple days.

You ended up telling Andrea what was happening, and she tried to reassure you, saying that she was just nervous for the whole eras tour thing, and when it started things would become easier… but you weren’t sure of that.

A couple weeks later, what you feared became true. You were in your room when your mom made a post on instagram announcing the Eras Tour dates and you scanned through it, until you read it. “KC night 1 7/7/23”. Your birthday. She was having a concert on your birthday. You took your phone and rushed to the living room, where your mom was on the phone with her publicist, Tree. “Mom, seriously??” You asked her, not caring if she was on the phone or not. You heard her sigh “Tree, wait a second” she said and put the phone on mute, looking at me. “What is it?” She asked and you rolled your eyes. “You put a concert date on my birthday” you said and she sighed again. “Can we not do this now? This is important-“ you interrupted her again. “More important than your daughter?” You talked back.

Taylor was silent for a while, before excusing herself with Tree and ending the call, and you repeated what you said. “You put a concert date on my birthday” she nodded, looking confused “yeah, and?” You shook your head. “You had promised me you’d have the day free so you could spend it with me! It’s been a long time since we last had a day together, just you and me…” you looked down, but she didn’t seem to be bothered. “We’ll spend some time together after the concert like we already did.” She looked away from you, eyes back on her phone. “But that’s not what you promised!” You said and raised your voice, making her look at you. “(Y/N), right now, tour’s more important-“ you interrupted her, “then why did you have me?” She looked up back at you, looking more confused than ever.

“Huh?” She asked and only now did she notice that you had tears in your eyes. “Why did you have me if tours are more important than me?” At that, Taylor got up and walked over to you, eyes full of worry and remorse, maybe. “The fact that I’m now busy with tour doesn’t mean that I love you any less” she said and knelt down in front of you. “But you don’t show it! You don’t show that you love me…” You said and she furrowed her brows, even more confused. A couple tears leaving your eyes. “do you remember when was the last time we celebrated my birthday together?” You asked her and saw how she shook her head, thinking of a reply. “It was 6 years ago. I was 8, mom” you said “it was 2017, remember what period it was?” Once again, she didn’t reply, but you both knew what period it was. “When was the last time you told me you loved? I don’t remember it” you didn’t remember it, but Taylor did. You had fallen asleep in her lap and she had just stopped singing you “Never grow up.” She stood up and sighed, watching you cry but she didn’t feel like apologizing would be enough.

“If you knew you weren’t going to have time for me, you could have aborted me” your voice broke as you were saying this, and you rushed back into your bedroom, not knowing that in that precise moment, your mother was bawling her eyes out too. She wanted to spend more time with you, she really did, but at the same rime, she really didn’t have time.

The day of your birthday, you wouldn’t be seeing your mother until the concert. You woke up to no text from her, which made tears well up in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away and went on with your day. Andrea had gifted you a necklace with a dream catcher, which you really liked, but you would have needed no gift if only you could spend your day with your mother, but by now you had given up on that occasion.

The concert went by normally, like any other, and you had spent it in the booth with Andrea, smiling whenever people asked pictures of you as well and exchanging friendship bracelets with them, like grandma had showed you. Soon it was the moment of the surprise songs and you were expecting her to take her guitar, but she didn’t.

She sat at her piano, and started talking. “Well, welcome to the surprise songs” she started and everyone clapped their hands, screaming in joy and adoration. There was a reason behind every surprise song she chose for every night and you were curious as to what tonight’s reasons would be. “On normal occasions I would be playing this song on guitar, but this isn’t a normal occasion” she smiled at what she was about to say, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Was she talking about your birthday? “As I’m pretty sure all of you know, I have a daughter, her name’s (Y/N)” everyone began cheering even more. Yes, she was talking about your birthday. “I have never talked publicly about her, but tonight’s her birthday, so I wanted to surprise her. She’s here tonight, and she’s in that booth over there with my mom” she pointed over to you with a smile, and everyone cheered again.

“It’s been a rough period for both of us. I’ve been very busy with tour, and she’s been wanting to spend more time with me and I feel like a very bad mother for not being able to give her what she wants, and apologizing doesn’t really work all the time, she’s stubborn as hell” the crowd laughed and you couldn’t help but smile at her words and you leaned into Andrea, who gave you a side hug. “Well anyway as I was saying, this is a very special occasion as it’s her birthday so I’ll play this song on piano instead of guitar, and I would like you all to look at the screen behind me as I play this song. Happy birthday little one, this is for you”

With that, Taylor started playing “Never Grow Up”, the song she wrote about you, for you.

Your little hand’s wrapped around my finger and it’s so quiet in the world tonight Your little eyelids flutter ‘cause your dreamin’ So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

A video started playing on the huge screen behind her. Photos and videos of you as a child with her, both so young and happy. Taylor was smiling brightly and you laughed whenever you were around her and her family, now you understood more the words:

To you everything’s funny you got nothing to regret, I’d give all I have honey if you could stay like that

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up Don't you ever grow up Just stay this little Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up Don't you ever grow up It could stay this simple I won't let nobody hurt you Won't let no one break your heart And no one will desert you Just try to never grow up Never grow up

You started tearing up more with the chorus as you sang along, and behind her more videos of the both of you were being played. No matter where or how Taylor was in life, she always loved you, every day more than the other. A side screen showed her as she was playing this song in this very moment, tears leaving her eyes and more forming in them. As the song came to an end, she spoke again. “Happy birthday babygirl, mama loves you so so much” she said and sniffled, wiping her tears. The crowd was louder than ever, and like other times she stopped to take it all in.

“Can I go to her?” You asked Grandma and she nodded, explaining that she had anticipated this would happen and already had a bodyguard ready and waiting for you. He quickly took you backstage and showed you the way up to the stage, even if you knew it already.

The stage doors opened to reveal you, and everyone cheered even louder as you started running your way to the front of the stage, where your mom was. Taylor turned around to look at you, smiling brightly as she got up and made her way towards you, arms opened for you to get into a tight, warm embrace. When you were finally in her arms, you both cried a bit more as you placed your head on her chest, and her head was right on top of yours. When you pulled back she took her in-ear monitors off, cupped your cheeks, looked at you and said “I love you so so so much, please never forget that”

“I love you too mom” you said almost in between sobs. She kissed your forehead and pulled you into another, tight hug.

#taylor swift #taylor swift x you #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift x daughter #taylor stans #taylor swizzle #debut taylor’s version #taylor swift x daughter!reader

637 notes · View notes

youkissedareaderinthedark · 11 months

Text

Defying the Odds

Synopsis: Where the driver who was the most doubted proves everyone wrong

(in a world where christian horner would let a young, female, rookie on his team)

young female rookie reader x 2023 F1 grid minus Checo

Famous athletes always said work hard and believe in yourself if you want to succeed in your sport. It always just seemed like stuff they said for ads and brand deals until this moment, when you were about to win a world championship by doing those two things.

It started years ago, when you were accepted into the Red Bull Racing Junior Team. You need to be at least 16 years old to race in Formula 3, so you spent 2 years training until you joined the Trident F3 Team. You completely excelled, winning the Championship as a winner of 4/10 races, and was promoted to Formula 2.

You drove for Prema Racing for 2 years, and won the Championship both years. You gained a massive amount of attention because of this, and it became clear you weren’t an opportunity to be missed.

You had multiple teams fighting for you, but you never forgot how much the Jr. RBR team gave you, so you chose their Formula 1 team to race with alongside Max Verstappen at age 19.

The public had a lot of opinions to share about this, how women shouldn’t drive and you didn’t deserve your spot, but you stayed calm and let your driving do the talking for you. You got P3 in your first race and got P1 in your third. You lifted the 1st place trophy another 7 times throughout the season, one time being in Monaco, creating the most historic moment of the 2023 season.

As if all this wasn’t enough, if you won this final race, you would win the Drivers Championship.

You wouldn’t win though, without a fight from your biggest competitor who was also your teammate, Max Verstappen. Ever since your first win in Formula One, articles talking of a Y/n vs Max rivalry have been written, and it had gotten worse the closer the final race was.

One journalist went so far as to write that one of you would sabotage the other’s car to get an easier fight for the championship and that Red Bull crashes during the races leading up to the end of the season were expected.

Thankfully, the articles couldn’t be farther from the truth, as you and Max actually had a very good relationship. You reminded him of Daniel, bubbly and always laughing, so you clicked fairly quickly. You were introduced to Daniel as well, and the three of you rapidly became the best trio on the grid.

Your driving styles were similar, unafraid and determined, so you respected the other’s driving. Neither of you asked for tows, preferring fighting for the spot and feeling like you deserved it instead. The fights were also extremely entertaining to the crowd, and Christian didn’t care, as long as one of you got onto the podium and didn’t crash the cars.

All of this created the perfect suspense for tonight, Abu Dhabi 2023, the race that would determine this years winner. You and Max were tied with points and the uncertainty was killing you. The race completely consumed your mind the week leading up to it. You tried to relax by doing normal tourist stuff in Abu Dhabi, but your friends didn’t arrive till Friday and there was paparazzi everywhere.

Free Practice 1 and 2 was a relief because you could actually be in your car again, and you faced no problems on the track. The track was simple and your car made everything pretty easy for you. You saw Max a couple times and interacted like usual, but it was like the race was a dark cloud looming over your heads during your conversation, impossible to ignore.

Thank god your friends from home arrived Friday afternoon, you took them out for dinner and relaxed for a few hours. You slept easy and woke up Saturday excited but still nervous. FP3 was crucial for qualifying and you couldn’t mess it up. Red Bull used the hour to make any last minute adjustments to the car and double checked every system already set for qualifying later in the day.

Regardless of your positive feeling you had when you got back into the garage, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to all the bad possibilities that could happen this weekend. You took the time to relax in your drivers room before qualifying because going into the car overthinking is never good for an important race.

You ended up qualifying P2, right behind Max. You told yourself it was fine, that you’d get in front of him tomorrow, that you’d be even faster for the race, but a part of your mind screamed self doubt. What if you failed tomorrow? What if the car malfunctioned? What if you came all this way and worked so far just to be one position away from your dream?

You felt so out of control but you knew you needed to get a grip. This is what people expect, for you to crack under pressure. But you couldn’t let that happen. You would make everyone see that you could make it this far and more.

It was this mindset that got you through the rest of Saturday and into Sunday evening. Abu Dhabi was a night race, meaning you’d either go to bed defeated or stay up till morning celebrating.

You walked into the paddock with your brave face. You received pats on the back and calls of good luck as you made your way into the Red Bull garage. You try to get to the paddock early enough to feel relaxed when getting ready, but late enough to not allow yourself any extra time for distractions.

You got changed into your drivers suit and let it hang around your waist while you let your physical therapist relax any tense muscles in your body. Your trainer gave you a neck workout and refreshed your reflexes before leaving you to your engineers. You went over the strategy for todays race again and reminded you of some things to look out for. While you were walking back to your drivers room, you ran into Max.

“Oh, hi Max” You smiled nervously at him. “Hi Y/n, good luck today, yes?” The Dutch man stuck out his hand to you. “Yes, thank you, good luck as well” Usually your talks lasted longer than a greeting and a handshake but there was no time to be friendly right now. One of you would be crowned World Champion in a few hours. The thought alone made you put on your headphones to drown out everything around you and focus on the one thing that mattered.

It felt like you were in a haze walking through the garage to your car to start the formation lap. The atmosphere in the garage was tense, almost cautious. Formula 1 was unpredictable, there was no telling what would happen on track. “Alright Y/n, give me a good, clean, race out there. Good luck” Christian’s voice came over your radio just as you were about to leave the garage. “Will do, see you at the finish line” You let out a big breath before starting your formation lap and finally blocking out everything unimportant around you. You met your position of P2 on the track and watched as the red lights came on and off again.

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the last time in 2023.” The voice of Martin Brundle comes on as 20 drivers accelerated down the straight. Each one tried to progress early but the unswerving road did not allow much action to occur. Once DRS was enabled, you closed in on your teammate. “Y/n, remember that we are letting the two of you fight. Overtake whenever possible but do not expect an easy race” Hugh Bird, your race engineer, became audible. “Yeah, I know” You overtook Max and tried to create a gap between the two of you but you were driving the same car. This race would come down to pure skill.

Max overtook you soon enough, but you traded P1 throughout the race. The gap between you two and the next car was about 10 seconds, so you focused on Max. Each Red Bull driver had taken their pit stops strategically, but no gap was maintained. It was Lap 48/58 and you were leading, but nothing was solid.

When Max took P1 in Lap 53 and remains there till Lap 56, you begin to worry that he was going to win, that it was over for you. Until, his car hesitated a single second before going into Turn 16.

It was the second you needed. You don’t think you’ve ever pressed the gas so hard or ever been so grateful that this car accelerates so quickly. You were back in front. It was Lap 57 and you were back in front. “Okay defend here now, defend” Hugh’s voice came over, the words, “defend and it’s ours” right on the tip of his tongue. His hands began to shake as this was as suspenseful for him as it was for you.

The crowd was going absolutely insane. It was like the other 18 cars didn’t even exist because every single person was turned to the two Red Bulls. A hush fell over the track as the two red and black cars entered Lap 58. You were in front but you couldn’t celebrate because Max was right behind you. The entire lap was spent trying to keep your body from jittering and keeping your Dutch teammate at bay. Turns 11-14 were all close together and it was the perfect opportunity for him to get into P1. You were wheel to wheel into corner 15 and 16. It didn’t even matter which car was which because they were perfectly aligned.

“The two Red Bulls are wheel to wheel as they approach the checkered flag. It could go to anyone!” Martin Brundle shouted over the microphone. You didn’t know who was in front. You couldn’t take your eyes off the checkered flag. It could be yours.

“Bird, who was it?” Your entire body was shaking. The crowd went silent. No one could tell who passed the line first. The results traveled from the flag person to your garage in record time.

“Birdy. Who was it?”

“You”

“Y/N L/N! IT’S Y/N L/N! SHE’S DONE IT! Y/N L/N PASSES THE FINISH LINE AND IS THE 2023 WORLD CHAMPION” Martin Brundle is almost in tears.

“Are you- are you serious?” There was no way. “IT’S YOU! YOU’VE WON! YOU ARE THE WORLD CHAMPION” Hugh is shouting but he still sounds a million miles away.

“Oh my god-oh my god!” Your voice breaks as you say the last words and tears are running down your face. You scream and cheer as you pass your fans in your cool down lap.

The crowd goes insane. 0 to 100 in seconds. Your country’s flag is being waved and you can’t wait to wrap it around your shoulders with pride. Tears are being shed and your side of the garage is in shambles, everyone is hugging someone and shouting.

Christian’s voice comes over your radio. “Congratulations Y/n, you are the 2023 World Champion. The World Champion” Your brain barely processes the words as you radio back.

“Oh god, thank you, everyone, this wouldn’t have happened without all of you. Thank you” The dark cloud has evaporated from above your head and you feel like you can think clearly.

You bring your car to where the 1st place sign is, near the paddock and jump out of the cockpit. You stand on top of the car, cheering with all the fans looking at you from around the stadium. It’s a sight you’ve been dreaming about for ages. You finally jump down and run into the arms of your engineers. They all shout and pat your helmet and jump with you, unable to contain their excitement.

You pull away to the side to take off your helmet and balaclava, drink some water, and try to make sure you don’t look too disgusting before speaking in the interview awaiting you. Before you can though, your teammate and runner-up steps in front of you. “Listen to me” Max places his hands on your shoulders and you’re suddenly scared of his reaction.

“The media will say a lot of things, but listen to me. I am proud of you. I am sad that I did not win, but I am proud of you, okay?” He pulls you in for a hug that breaks you out of your stunned state. You would’ve never expected Max to ever say those words to you, especially because you just beat him to the title. “Thank you Max” You hugged back. You stopped crying a few minutes ago but this brought tears back into your eyes.

Charles Leclerc comes in P3, and you remind yourself to congratulate him as you walk towards Nico Rosberg, who is hosting the post-race interviews. “Y/n L/n, you just became not only a world champion, but the youngest driver to win a championship, and the first female world champion. How do you feel?”

“I feel amazing. This entire night has been unbelievable. When you dream of something for so long, it’s hard to believe it’s happened when you’re living it. I thought of this night ending in so many different ways, I can’t believe it’s ending in this one”

“If you could go back to your younger self right now, what would you tell her?” Nico would leave the more technical questions to the journalists in the media pen, right now he just wants to know your emotions. “I would tell her to keep going. That she would make it. I’d tell her to keep doing what she’s best at, and the rest would fall in place.” You blinked tears out of your eyes thinking of your younger self right now.

“Okay, thank you, congratulations on your amazing win, you drove very well” Nico tells you as he shakes your hand. “Thank you” You walk into the empty cool down room to take it all in for a second. There was a camera in there, but it was the closest you’d get to being alone. As you watch the replay of the race finish on the TV, you think about it. You were the World Champion. The World Champion.

#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #f1 2023 grid x y/n #reader insert #gen z f1 driver reader #f1 rookie reader #gen z driver x formula 1 grid

746 notes · View notes

whimsicalwritingsandmore · 5 months

Text

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 2150 words

a/n: hello!! hope you enjoy this chapter! I am curious, how is the pacing so far? while editing, I changed up a lot of scenes and spaced them out in other chapters. I'm curious to know your thoughts on how the story is flowing so far - is it too slow or is it okay? all your feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 5

It had been about a week and a half since Mingi's arrival, and for the most part, things took a turn for the better. Mingi was very thoughtful and patient, he was careful not to push or pressure you into doing anything you were uncomfortable with. It was difficult for him at first however, as he wasn’t sure how to begin to fix things with you.

Thankfully, when you introduced Mingi to Chan, the older wizard was kind enough to offer him advice and assist him.

“Give her space,” he explained, “Allow her the time to make her own decisions and think things through without feeling pressured. Show her that you respect her and her choices even if it might not be in your favour.”

Changbin also offered his own advice since he and Mingi shared the same birthday month and he took pride in that.

“Do little things now and again for her. Don’t do anything over the top! Just small things like buy her a pastry or cook a meal. Send her a kind text during the day now and again. Maybe even ask to take a stroll in the evening at the park sometime.”

Most of your friends welcomed Mingi kindly even though they were quite apprehensive, given your history with him. The only one bold enough to stand his ground was Jisung. He made it particularly and significantly clear that he will not go easy on Mingi and will not hesitate to make him disappear. At first, Mingi found it humorous, seeing it as a baseless threat but Changbin indicated that Jisung could be a menace when he wanted to. So while Jisung smiled sweetly but intimidatingly in the corner of the apartment twiddling his wand in hand, Mingi blinked three times in concern and looked at you. You assured him everything was fine, but truthfully, you weren’t so sure about Mingi’s safety because you did hear about Jisung’s fearsome alter ego. But you weren’t gonna tell Mingi that.

As for Mingi, he took a while to comprehend your new found life. Slowly, you both realised Mingi thrived better doing more physically energetic pursuits rather than standing behind the cash register with Jisung nearby watching him like a hawk. Chan offered to recruit Mingi at the apothecary to help with running errands with Hyunjin and organising and moving boxes and shelves with Felix and Jeongin. Mingi enjoyed it and felt that it was a good approach in giving you a chance to have space for yourself.

It surprised you how easy going he became with all of it, because though Mingi is kindhearted, he still was an alpha werewolf who does not necessarily do well with being told what to do. Maybe he was actually scared of Jisung? You were curious about what was going on inside his head and jokingly asked Chan if he could pick his brain.

Chan laughed and said no while Minho and Seungmin unapologetically agreed. Chan deadpanned at the two.

"But I'm curious too!" they argued.

During the week, Chan suggested everyone should have a night out at the karaoke place. While you and Felix belted your hearts out trying to pass Seungmin and Jeongin’s high score, Mingi sat behind you, mesmerised by your voice. It was one of those moments as of recently, where he savoured your presence. He observed your newly dyed hair with streaks of blonde, your pretty hoop earrings, your beaded and charm bracelets adorning your wrists and your outfit.

He remembered vividly the first time the two of you met. You were with Hongjoong as the latter dragged you into the store for snacks while he complained that you ate all of his. Mingi was working at the store during that time and the moment all three of you came into contact, you felt the magnetic pull. It was enchanting and captivating. And meeting you introduced Mingi to another way of life. He began to feel more comfortable in his skin and who he was, you helped him to become confident and maybe even a little reckless when you appeared at his window in the early morning, recruiting him to go with you and Hongjoong to watch the sunrise. In the times when Hongjoong was unable to go, you and Mingi ventured out and spent the time talking and planning for the future.

And whereas Hongjoong was a stickler for not showing affection outside of your private space, Mingi would back hug you as you strolled down the street. The one time he did it to Hongjoong, they both rolled down the hill with Mingi landing on top of him while you watched in panic.

But at least, that's how you met Seonghwa and Yunho.

In reminiscing, Mingi realised that you met all of them, excluding him, in smaller groups. He discovered that none of you really took the time to get to know each other personally or one on one.

Mingi was snapped out of his daydreaming by Jisung who poked him with one of the mics.

"Yes?"

"You weren't moving, so I was wondering if you became a statue.”

"I’m fine."

"Mhmm," he said, "Come on, let’s step outside for a minute."

Mingi was kind of concerned but still he followed him out the door cautiously.

"So are you okay?" Jisung asked.

"Why do you care?” Mingi questioned.

“I don’t really, but you are Y/N’s soulmate and I care about her. So I gotta make sure you’re not going to do something stupid and hurt her.”

“Wow.” Mingi drawled.

“So I shall ask again, are you okay?”

Mingi sighed.

Yeah I just...I realised all of us never really got to know each other personally. All of a sudden we just got together, a big group of nine, and we never took the time to spend with one another. Maybe only Hongjoong and Y/N have.”

Jisung eyed Mingi carefully before responding, "Yeah I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “That was me when I met Minho, we clicked almost immediately and everything came so naturally, we never really took the time to just be friends and get to one another personally. You know, like really getting to each other for who we are, not just our likes and dislikes but how we operate and think."

"I feel like something happened."

"Something did…” Jisung contemplated for a moment before continuing, “We started to just expect that we would understand each other and meeting the others amplified that. So as we started to split our time, we expected certain things from each other and when it wasn't being met we would argue a lot. We expected that the other person would do things for the other and it became a whole mess."

"What did you guys do to fix it?"

"Chan intervened and we basically did what you and Y/N are doing now, and we also sought therapy from one of Chan's friends and it helped us better understand each other."

"Do you think Y/N and I should try therapy?"

"Do whatever works best for you. Therapy might be a good idea and I think you are doing well with taking your time for now. Maybe bring it up after a few weeks if you still feel like it would help. I've seen the way you’re trying.”

“Oh my gosh, did you just say something nice to me!?” Mingi gasped.

Jisung smirked, “I don’t dislike you Mingi. I’m just wary of you. I saw how broken Y/N was when she got here and she has told me little bits here and there. As her friend who also sees her as a sister, I don’t want to see her hurt again.”

Mingi felt a sense of appreciation at the way Jisung cared about you.

"I feel bad about hurting Y/N like that,” Mingi confessed, “I’m a terrible person.”

"You’re not. You’re not a bad person, it was a terrible, terrible lapse in judgement if you ask me or whatever, but you’re learning and that’s the most important thing you can do right now, learn and not be ignorant.”

"Thanks Jisung, I feel a little better now."

"You’re welcome and I still will not hesitate to deal with you or any of the others if you hurt her. "

When it was time to leave, you walked side to side with Mingi hands in your jacket pockets as the two of you commented on the day’s events. The night was chilly but it provided the perfect opportunity in Mingi’s mind to stay in a little close proximity to you to give you more warmth. He was mindful not to overstep any boundaries but you didn’t mind this time, and allowed him to cosy up a little next to you. He had to leave to go back home tomorrow, Chan offering to open a portal and giving him a way back to you.

Mingi didn't want to leave but the others were waiting for him. With Chan’s help, he got into contact with Yunho who he told that he needed to be away for a while after the previous dinner events. Now, he was going back to explain the matter, ask to be temporarily put on leave from his duties and express his decision to stay with you for however long he wanted.

This time it was necessary for it to be one-on-one as Jisung educated him. He had to make it right.

He wasn't sure how the others would react but he hoped that they might come back with him at the very least maybe.

While the two of you waited for the others to catch up, you told Mingi that you were going to dispose of some wrappers in your pocket. As you rounded a corner that was a little far off where a trash can was located, your thoughts were interrupted by a strange voice.

"Well well well, if it isn't one of us." a sickly voice sang.

You turned around at the voice. You had no clue who they were exactly but judging by the tattoo on their arm, they were rogues. How were they here?

"What the heck do you want?” You questioned.

“Now, that’s no way to talk to an alpha."

“You’re not my alpha and I do not care to talk to you.”

“Aww but you’re hurting my feelings.”

"Bleh." You gagged.

They were not amused by your response and it didn't take long for them to swing at you. You dodged and tried to find a way out but after some scuffling you did end up with a bruised lip and your arm being pinned behind your back. You weren't scared at first but you needed backup and fast.

With every fibre of your being, you drowned out the taunts of the rogues and focused on your connection to Mingi. You called Mingi's name hoping he would hear.

"That's a nice necklace you have there." the sickly voice commented.

Your half moon necklace was given to you by your mates, representing your clan. You never took it off and it was your most prized possession. As the sticky finger rogue attempted to reach for it, a hand grabbed him with force and pressure. Every single one of his bones cracked gruesomely and his skin began to turn a grisly black and blue.

"Do not ever touch my mate." Mingi snarled ferociously.

His eyes turned into his gold werewolf colour and he threw the rogue back effortlessly. You could feel the change in Mingi’s aura as he glowered dangerously at the other one that was pinning your arm and swung at him, hitting him right in the nose, a sickening crack ringing through. He scowled at the other two who stepped back seeing the infuriated alpha. They ran off leaving behind their members.

“Pathetic.” he seethed.

As he composed himself on seeing you, Mingi rushed to help you and escort you back. He began to fuss all over you, his sentences rushing through like a waterfall.

"I got your pull, it freaked me out because I should've known better to let you go alone! I'm so glad you're okay! I'm not leaving again, I'll tell Chan to send a letter or something, are you okay!? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Mingi…” you began, “You're going to have to go back."

"What!? No! Why!?"

You noticed something. Besides Mingi’s connection, you began to feel the pull and call of your other seven mates. Though you called for Mingi specifically when you focused your mind on him, being in danger and initiating your soul bond after so long, activated the connection for your other mates which meant that your connection to all of them that was once dormant, was now ignited.

They felt it too. You could hear their calls.

"They know."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@eastleighsblog @sehun096rainbow @greensnakeglobep @satsuri3su @idfkeddieishot @zonked-times @sugarrush-blush

a/n: hi again! unfortunately, I was unable to tag you @greensnakeglobep :( I'm really sorry about this, I'm not sure why I'm not able to. if anyone could clarify how to fix this, please let me know, thank you!!

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #ateez fluff #poly!ateez #ateez series

254 notes · View notes

tswwwit · 5 months

Text

Here's the second part of Cult Reincarnation Dipper!

The first part is over Here if you missed it.

Hope you enjoy!

“Here we are!” Bill says brightly. He nods approvingly at the room, then glances back at Dipper. “Glad you didn’t take off running during the trip.”

How Dipper could have managed that, he isn’t sure. The instant they appeared in this place, Bill took hold of Dipper’s wrist and hasn’t let go even once.

The nightmare realm is exactly as advertised. Dipper’s been pulled through mazelike corridors, up and down impossible hallways, over insane physic-defying structures - and past things with too many teeth and eyes.

He thinks he’s been holding up pretty well, all things considered.

Being dragged by a nightmare god into his realm of dreams for unknown reasons wasn’t exactly on his bucket list. Without any helpful explanations, or even unhelpful ones, he’s stayed calm and followed along. Remaining obedient, keeping quiet, and waiting in hopes of Bill either giving up, or giving him any indication of where the hell they are and what the fuck he’s doing.

Now they’ve arrived, and the destination… isn’t exactly encouraging.

Dipper looks over the gleaming instruments hung on the walls. The needles and scalpels and hooks. He drops his gaze towards the white paper on the chair, at the poorly hidden restraints.

A place of insanity and terror, owned by a king of nightmares, dragging along a vulnerable human with a badly injured arm. Of course he’d end up in a house of medical horrors. It’s too thematically appropriate.

So yeah. Dipper’s been holding on fine. Only his legs have decided they’ve had enough for the day, and given up.

His robes puddle around him as he hits the floor. The tile’s very cold and sterile under his legs, and his arm trembles in Bill’s unwavering grip.

“Hey! What gives?” Bill tugs on Dipper’s wrist again. Thankfully not hard enough to haul him to his feet.

Dipper shakes his head. The floor’s fine. He’ll stay right here, thank you very much. Trying to retrieve his wrist doesn’t work, but he makes a good show of it.

“Nice try,” Bill says, dryly. “But there’s no escaping! Now get on up and have a seat already.”

For the first time, his grip loosens. Dipper yanks his arm towards his chest, attempts to stumble to his feet. His legs fail to cooperate, sliding out in front of him like he’s putting up a tantrum rather than an escape attempt.

With a quick snort, Bill ducks down and tucks his hands under Dipper’s arms. A moment later he lifts Dipper bodily into the air, and appraises him with a smile.

Dipper kicks out in surprise, struggling for purchase - then lets his legs dangle in the air, limp. Flailing around isn’t going to help. Odds are it’d make things worse.

If there was ever a mistake Dipper shouldn’t make, it would be accidentally whacking a god in the groin.

Bill bounces him in his grip a couple times, with a pleased smile, and seemingly zero effort. The human form he’s wearing isn’t bulky; he’s just stronger than he appears. Dipper should have guessed as much. He’s in the demon realm, brought here - kidnapped by - an eldritch, too-powerful being. Any resistance he puts up is as much of a shield as tissue paper.

With a nod, Bill turns a full ninety degrees, and drops him directly into the chair. The leather of the seat creaks underneath Dipper as he hits it, and he instantly straightens up, back rigid.

“There we are.” Bill smirks with satisfaction. He points directly at Dipper’s face with a sudden frown. As it comes closer, Dipper leans as far back as he can manage. “Now stay. Put.”

The tone is very firm, and, well. Obedience is the name of the game, when it comes to a ‘god’.

Dipper simply nods. Bill beams again, then retreats to start pulling drawers open, rustling through them and muttering to himself.

Whatever he’s up to, Dipper doesn’t care to guess. From what he can tell, the entire room is made for easy cleaning, and the objects don’t lend him any comfort. Tons of gleaming instruments hang on hooks and boards, pale metal against white walls. The soaked sleeve of his robe is leaving little dots on the seat and armrests. Every spot of red stands out so brightly in this sterile white environment.

Dipper clutches his arm to his chest again. Not budging. Just as he was told. There’s a thin prickle of sweat building on his skin.

A sound catches his attention, and he glances up at Bill, who’s wearing a big, bright grin. He’s holding something glass in one hand, and a glint of metal in the other.

Dipper keeps trying to maintain pressure on his wound. Bill’s approaching without even a hint of hesitation - without being able to talk, he simply shakes his head again and again. He’s fine, this is great, they can go anywhere else, just don’t -

“What?” Bill cocks his head to the side, and grins again. “Easy, I don’t bite! Much.”

He has very sharp teeth, Dipper notices. With how human that form is, he hadn’t paid much attention to the details.

The white of his smile has fangs.

“Yeesh, tense much?” Bill raises an eyebrow, carelessly dropping a metal box in Dipper’s lap. The other one shows the glass to be a corked bottle - small, round and filled with greenish liquid. Bill starts shaking it rapidly, beckoning with his free hand. ”Gimme that arm, already.”

When Dipper doesn’t move, Bill slowly pries his arm away from his chest. He pushes it down onto the armrest - and before Dipper can react, the makeshift bandage of his robes is ripped off at the elbow, leaving him bare.

Dipper watches the blood trickling down over the seat with a nauseating flip in his stomach. He can look away - does, quickly - but worse, he’s oddly embarrassed. Everything in here was so pristine before he started leaking on things.

“Eh, could be worse.” Bill chimes in over Dipper’s thoughts. A brief glance shows he’s evaluating the wound; he waggles a hand in a so-so gesture. “Decent blood flow, but damage-wise? You’ll be wielding a knife yourself in no time!”

God, what a weird thing to say. Dipper half-shrugs in response.

He hopes Bill’s right, though. Not the knife-wielding, but that it’s not too bad. It certainly feels bad, but Dipper doesn’t have enough experience to tell how, or if, he’ll recover. He’s never seen a sacrifice, with a person, that called for that much blood. Especially one that got so… enthusiastic.

Or perhaps there was, and Dipper just looked away, like he always does. He’s never had the stomach for this sort of thing. Hell, he still doesn’t; as Bill gets settled, Dipper turns and starts counting all the knives on the walls.

Yep. There’s definitely a lot of them. So many, and none of them are in Bill’s hand at the moment. He tries to focus on that as well. The box in Dipper’s lap is too small to contain anything but the tiniest of the scalpels, too. Another good sign, if he’s feeling optimistic.

There’s the sound of something uncorking. Then, liquid dripping down Dipper’s arm and over his wrist, a bright, sparking sting - he grits his teeth, ready for the pain to build, and feels -

Nothing?

Dipper blinks. He’s lost count of the knives, but he does get an excellent view of the empty bottle sailing across the room, and shattering on the opposite wall. Quickly followed by the cork, with a spitting sound; Bill probably pulled it out with his teeth.

There’s a vague prod. Dipper cringes on reflex, shoulders tensing. The next one feels firmer, and not in a great place, but.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

Well, no. It does, a little. If Dipper clenches his arm and makes a fist, he can feel a kind of sting - and hear Bill mutter under his breath. So he probably shouldn’t do that. But other than that faint ache, the pain is gone, leaving a chill semi-numbness in its place.

Beside him, Bill makes a satisfied sound. He flips open the box in Dipper’s lap, pulls something out - then starts doing something weird to his arm.

Dipper feels a pinch, then a tugging sensation. He sucks in a breath.

“Hold still, already.” Bill’s grip tightens, holding him in place. Dipper can tell because when moves his fingers again, he can just about tickle the underside of his arm. “Hey! What’d I just say!”

Dipper stops moving. Obedient, definitely. Totally not questioning what the hell is happening to his flesh, or worried at all. He only flinches a bit at the repeated pinch-tug-pinch, running a line down his arm.

With the numbness, it’s easy to focus on breathing in, and out, in a steady rhythm. Passing time, until Bill’s done with his gruesome work.

“There we go.” Bill stands up, wiping his hands clean on a bright white cloth. He offers Dipper another easy grin. “Not too shabby, am I right?”

Dipper hesitates, but. He’s going to have to face the damage at some point. Might as well be now, while he’s still numb and lightheaded.

First, he sees Bill, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Then the arm itself, looking pale and small, with a long, thin line of stitches running up the wound.

No mutations, no mutilations. Just clean, closed skin.

Wow, that was a big cut. It didn’t really hit him until he saw it sewn up.

Dipper’s no expert on medical anything, but it must be decent work; Bill looks pleased with himself, for one, and the stitches themselves are neatly placed in even lines. Weirder still - it hasn’t been tinkered with, or experimented on at all.

Bill not-too-gently pats his wrist again, before wrapping Dipper’s entire forearm in bright white gauze. He hums to himself as he works. Just as he snips off the bandage with a pair of scissors, he pauses.

“Hm, kinda missing something,” Bill mutters, almost to himself. Then his expression brightens, and he snaps his fingers. “Aha!”

Dipper winces at the full-palm slap on his wrist. Ow. Even numbed, that stung.

“There! All patched up.” Bill says. He sets his fists on his hips, looking triumphant. “What’d’ya think, kid?”

Dipper looks down, and stares. He’s not really sure how he’s supposed to react.

Instead of taping the bandages in place, Bill’s smacked on a sticker. One of Bill himself, triangular-formed, and giving a disproportionately big thumbs-up.

“Ahem.” Bill clears his throat.

When Dipper checks, that seemingly eternal grin has popped right back into place. Expectant. Almost prompting.

Come to think of it - it’s the exact same one Dipper saw after the ritual, not that long ago.

The one that he still doesn’t know how to answer.

Dipper pulls his arm up, holding it close. He touches the bandages carefully, tracing down the line of his wound. All his fingers still work. All his skin seems to have stayed in place. Even the numbness has lingered well past the actual procedure.

Bill Cipher himself, lord of chaos and nightmares, had a hold of a wounded piece of mortal meat. And as far as Dipper can tell, nothing’s missing, nothing’s mangled, and it doesn’t even hurt.

Of all the things Dipper imagined about meeting Bill Cipher - and he can imagine a lot more things than the average guy -

This would never have made the list.

Bill hasn’t said anything. For a while now. Enough time has passed that the silence has grown awkward, because really Dipper should have done something by now, damn it. There has to be -

“Oh, right!” Bill breaks the silence with a snap of his fingers. His eye rolls; he even smacks himself on the side of the head in a ‘dang, can’t believe I forgot’ gesture. “Major bloodloss! No human brain works great when it’s improperly irrigated.”

Which… is true, sure. Dipper does feel pretty woozy, but more likely Bill’s referring to not getting a response.

That’s one thing he can fix, sort of. Dipper tries another smile. Hesitant, but not forced.

Bill just raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah, you’re cute. Don’t think flaunting it gets you anywhere.”

Dipper lets his smile drop.

Okay, what? That was not what he was going for, and - and it doesn’t make sense, anyway. Bill must have meant something else, because he’s not cute. Kind of a condescending thing to call a guy who’s just showing he’s grateful.

Even though he should know better, Dipper flashes an irritated glance at this idiot god’s face. He folds his arms, letting out a huff.

And Bill lunges in with startling speed.

Dipper jerks back in the chair only for Bill to follow, face inches away, sharp teeth bared in a wide smile. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, and his single eye narrows.

With rising tension, Dipper notes that said eye is actually glowing. There’s intent there, focused and strange - and even worse, the slow stir of magic building between them.

This is what he gets, isn’t it. For being a huge goddamned idiot, and insolent, and why did he do that of all-

“Boop.” Bill taps Dipper’s nose, and stands back up. As if to add insult to incoherence, he also pinches Dipper’s cheek. “Now! Upsy-daisy, kid! We gotta get you settled in!”

Dipper remains seated, even as Bill claps his hands and gestures for him to rise. At one point he even leans over and taps his thighs, in a deeply condescending beckon. If it wouldn’t be suicidally insane, Dipper would flip him off for that.

How is Dipper not dead yet. How is he not insane yet. This doesn’t make sense.

Nothing here makes sense.

But then, maybe Dipper should have expected that. Nightmare logic aside, he’s dizzy and tired, and it’s hard to keep figure out what’s insane demon-god stuff, what he’s simply lost track of.

Waiting for too long has had its consequences, of course. For the second time in an hour, Dipper gets hauled up by a too-strong monster. This time, he’s set on his feet pretty shortly, instead of being swung around like some kind of carnival prize.

Dipper hits the ground as Bill drops him, and stumbles. The world spins around him, and he nearly drops to the floor again until he braces himself on the closest solid-looking object.

The object moves under his arm. Above him, he hears loud, pleased laughter. “Aw, getting touchy, are we?”

Dipper stares at his arm, braced against a firm chest - then up at Bill’s wide grin. Then down again, where he’s wrinkling Bill’s shirt.

Shit. Wrong choice. Bad choice - but there wasn’t much of a choice! If Dipper didn’t want to fall on his ass, he had to grab something.

“I know, I know. I’m too tempting to resist.” Bill says, sounding eminently amused. Almost… teasing? He takes Dipper by the shoulder, turning him around towards the door. “Let’s get outta here.”

Wherever ‘here’ is. Wherever they’re going is even more worrying.

Still, Bill doesn’t seem mad about the invasion of his personal space. Or anything else, weirdly enough. Maybe Dipper’s misinterpreting the signs; he wouldn’t be the first worshiper to do so.

Mystery is part and parcel of Bill Cipher, one of his core essences. No part of him is uncomplicated or simple, because he loves making things difficult. There’s supposed to be puzzles, layered over each other in complex ways to obscure the truth. Every time Bill talks to one of the devout, it requires careful interpretation -

But there are too many possibilities, and Dipper’s too disoriented to keep up with any double-talk.

Bill opens the door into another black-red brick corridor. It looks like it could go anywhere, and everything about it screams ominous.

In a particularly stupid move - though one born of self-preservation - Dipper shoves himself into Bill’s grasp. He grips the shirt, hip bumping against the god, and Bill makes a quiet sound of surprise.

For a heartstopping moment, Dipper knows he’s fucked up.

Then the arm comes around him, and pulls him in tight. Squeezing his shoulder, then dropping around his waist, hand loosely holding his hip.

“Good choice, sapling! Your fleshy human vestibular sense is for shit, and I didn’t patch you up just to watch you break your skull on the ground.” Bill chucks Dipper under the chin with a knuckle and winks. “If I wanted a corpse, I could get those anywhere.”

Which… makes a terrifying kind of sense.

Bill’s right, of course. He’s an immensely powerful god-creature, who can reach in between worlds, given the opportunity. He commands dreams, and people, and an all-consuming amount of magic.

If he wanted a corpse, he could have one in moments. And if he wanted it to be Dipper’s, all he really had to do was… nothing.

As Bill pulls him into the hallway, Dipper checks his wrist again. He flexes his fingers, and sticks close to his ‘god’.

His arm’s a little achy, as the numbness begins to fade. The gauze is tight enough to feel comforting rather than constraining, clean and wrapped with obvious care. Even with the slight pain, it feels like he’s going to heal up just fine.

And though it’s incredibly stupid, the super cheesy sticker does kind of make him feel better.

Obviously Bill likes Dipper’s blood. He said as much during the summon; that it’s ‘very nice’. Likely it’s the reason Dipper was kidnapped in the first place.

But instead of juicing him like an orange, Bill took pains to keep all of it inside.

“As long as we’re stopping you from kicking the bucket,” Bill snaps his fingers. A small, squarish carton appears, and he holds it in front of Dipper. “You might wanna drink this.”

Dipper grimaces at… whatever this is. He can’t read the language, but it’s decorated with a smiling thing that could be either a heart, or a severely mutated fruit.

He glances up at Bill again, but no explanation is forthcoming. He merely waggles the carton around again, nearly shoving it into Dipper’s chest.

Welp. A ‘god’ has ordered him to consume something. Obedience, right, still a virtue. Hell, even if Bill wanted Dipper to swallow liquid mercury, he wouldn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

Poison isn’t very likely, though. Bill doesn’t want a dead body around, and he’s put in way too much effort to reverse course now.

Bill raises an eyebrow, tapping the drink invitingly against his chest. At this point Dipper suspects the lack of explaining is intentional.

Fine, whatever. If he’s going to insist…

Dipper still gives it a skeptical look, but he takes it from Bill’s hand. Not accepting a god’s gift is probably rude. Offending him isn’t any more helpful than dehydration.

And though all the advice about dealing with supernatural beings says, ‘don’t consume what they give you’, Bill does have a point. Humans are full of liquid. Dipper lost a decent portion of his own. Filling it back up isn’t the worst idea in the universe.

The top twists open, though Dipper doesn’t dare glance at the contents. He’ll just shut his eyes and chug.

He takes several long, deep drinks, tilting his head back. At first to help himself swallow - then more, and eagerly, because holy shit, he’s so thirsty. He didn’t realize until he started, but he really, really needed this.

With the portion of his tongue he has left, he tastes a faint sweetness, like strawberries.

“Top up your tank, kid.” Bill gives Dipper another nudge, almost playful. “Humans are basically half-fluid. To go at it like that, you musta been practically mummified!”

Weird phrasing seems to be a thing for Bill. Better get used to it.

Since he’s not looking at him, Dipper rolls his eyes and makes a face. Just a quick, two-second expression.

Beside him, Bill’s grin inches up a tiny bit. He starts whistling a cheerful tune as he leads them onward.

It’s an indeterminate amount of time before they stop - Bill, fresh and cheerful, Dipper, wondering how much longer he has to be on his feet - but eventually Bill whips around a corner, facing a brown wooden door in the middle of one of the black slate walls.

Great. Another mystery room, and by the look on Bill’s face - one he’s been eager to get to.

By this point Dipper’s pretty sure Bill’s not about to execute or exsanguinate him At least 90% sure; it’s hard to tell when dealing with a being of pure chaos.

But he still slows his steps as Bill sets his hand on the knob, leaning back into that guiding arm on his waist. Unpredictability has always unnerved him.

Bill turns towards Dipper with a brilliant smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” He says, almost conspiratorially. He nudges Dipper forward as he opens the door. “Welcome home, sapling!”

With a gust of warm air and a light that leaves Dipper blinking, the door opens.

And with a proud smile, Bill Cipher leads him into the single most luxurious looking room he’s ever seen in his life.

Dipper stares. Maybe gawks a little, but he shuts his mouth quickly.

No matter where he looks, everything oozes rich, sumptuous leisure.

There’s paintings, and tapestries, a soft thick black carpet. A huge, soft-looking couch near a fireplace, odds and ends of scattered jewels and technical looking objects on the walls. There’s even a portrait of Bill himself, in his regular form, with a foot upon the world. Large double doors lead to another room, and though the partly open crack Dipper thinks he spots a bed.

On the second glance around, Dipper catches on. That subtle gleam, that catches his eye, seemingly everywhere - is freakin’ gold. Not just the occasional pierce of decoration, either; it’s subtly woven into parts of all the decor, thin lines on furniture and doors and even some in the carpet.

Bill’s room so far beyond the dark, stoic asceticism of the compound. Miles away. Lightyears.

Why the hell did they have a shitty stone cavern to worship in, if their god lives like this?

No, that’s easily answered -the priest always was a dick.

Dipper’s not thrilled about what Bill did to the guy back at the ritual, but he’s far from upset.

Beside him, Bill’s silent. For once he’s not shuffling Dipper along anywhere. No prompting, no pushing, no force of any kind -

But definitely expectant.

Without Bill saying anything, Dipper can feel his arm tense up with anticipation, awaiting a reaction. Probably something flattering to Bill’s ego, or worshipful of his presence.

Truth be told, Dipper might have even given one. Despite all his reservations about the chaos god beside him, it is impressive.

But he can’t say anything. There’s nothing to write down a worshipful chant on. He’s tired and hurt and he’s been walking what feels like all day. Finding focus is hard.

Dipper scrunches his face up, rubbing at his eyes. Things went all blurry for a second, and he has kind of a headache.

What does he do, another smile? But Bill said that was ‘flaunting’. and maybe that’s not great. Another expression, maybe. Some kind of gesture. Body language has a lot of options and… he’s run out of ideas for that. Maybe his brain really is working with too-little fluid.

“Hmm…” Bill rubs his chin, glancing at Dipper - then staring out into the room again. His eye narrows.

Shit, right, this was meant to impress. Dipper, fumbling the devout test for like, the millionth time in his life. Only right now, when it truly matters, he’s too messed up to manage even if he tried.

Before Bill can get too mad, Dipper hunches over. Looking contrite might stave off the worst of it. He can make himself look small.

There’s a long beat of silence. Then Bill claps him on the shoulder. “No worries, kid. This ain’t my first time with a human wandering in with mortal wounds and a poor sense of grandeur! You can tell me how great I am later.”

The rush of relief Dipper feels is immediately ruined by Bill dragging him forward again. So much for a true reprieve; infinite being of pure energy means never stopping for a second of rest, apparently.

“I got just the thing for a squishy little nervous wreck like you,” Bill says, striding forward confidently towards one of the walls, and a door Dipper’s 90% sure wasn’t there even three seconds ago. “We’ll stash you here until you’re more settled down!”

The door opens, and Dipper’s led into a small, dark place. He can make out vague, squarish shapes in the dim light. Thankfully none of them look too imposing.

Another snap, and the room lights up.

For the second time in about as many minutes, Dipper’s totally thrown.

“Kitchen’s through there, bathroom’s thataway,” Bill says, gesturing in the respective directions. He gives Dipper’s shoulder a squeeze, jerking his thumb behind himself. “I’ll be back out this way if you get bored!”

The words run though Dipper’s brain, but he’s not truly focusing on them. The room he’s in has most of his attention. No matter how he looks at it, though, he can’t see any traps. It just looks…

Comfy?

The light reveals a smaller room than the living one, and one that’s far less dramatic. None of the tchotkes lying around. Basically zero ostentation. There’s a wardrobe and a bed, a dark blue carpet rather than the black. A desk, some papers, and an absurdly large and obsessively organized looking bookshelf. The two doors Bill mentioned lie closed, on two different walls.

Dipper’s not sure what he was expecting, but. The simpler decoration, the small but cozy setup - none of which fits Bill’s taste, that’s clear even on a glance. This isn’t meant for the god himself.

Now there’s a question he’s never considered before: Does Bill Cipher ever have guests in his realm?

The answer must be ‘yes’, strange as it seems. Nothing in here is Bill’s vibe, but it might fit a human that he needed to stash somewhere.

Beside him, he hears a low hum. Bill’s hand runs down Dipper’s shoulder, onto his back. It strokes down, then up again - then pushes him forward. “Enjoy!”

Dipper stumbles a couple steps before catching the footboard of the bed. He leans against it, blinking rapidly.

“Now, I got a quick errand to run, so take your time getting comfy. Cram some calories in, wash your crevices, take a nap. Whatever human stuff needs doing.” Bill looks up from checking his watch, then gives him a wink, backing out of the room with double finger guns pointed. “See ya soon!”

The door closes behind him without even a touch on the knob. The room goes quiet.

Dipper cocks his head to one side. Bill’s absence is just as palpable as his presence. That powerful thrum of magic trails into the distance as he heads off, fading in Dipper’s senses, like a too-loud stereo speaker in an obnoxious, demonic car.

After a moment, he shucks off his robe - with the sleeve torn off, it’s weird and uncomfortable. That leaves him in just soft pants and his undershirt, but thankfully with considerable privacy.

As long as he’s here, Dipper does a quick inspection of the room. The bed’s bigger than any one he’s ever seen, minus the one that’s presumably Bill’s. The wardrobe contains a baffling array of flannel shirts, in that they’re almost all identical and oddly… worn? He shuts the doors with a shrug. Hardly the most intimidating find.

A thorough overview reveals no traps, no knives. The sharpest thing in the room is the pens. The worst thing that could happen to Dipper here is a papercut. Or maybe stubbing his toe on the heavy furniture.

It’s been a few minutes. Dipper glances at the door Bill retreated through. Still closed.

He hears no sound from the other room, either. He strains to feel some magic returning, a bloom in his limited senses, but it’s calm and quiet.

Whatever Bill’s up to, he’s long gone.

Leaving Dipper totally unsupervised.

Dipper instantly darts for the opposite door, opening it fast enough that it nearly unbalances him. It swings opens easily, totally unlocked, and he braces himself as he stares -

Into a kitchen.

A big one, at that. Lots of cabinets, a fridge, a stove, knives hanging on the wall in what looks like a rather ominous manner, until Dipper remembers that’s where knives are supposed to be. Though maybe not so many of them.

Also, totally not an exit.

Fine, whatever. They couldn’t all be exits, and there’s another to try.

Dipper rushes over to the second door, yanking it open to reveal… exactly what Bill said, again.

He lingers this time, leaning on the knob. Rubbing at his eyes briefly, in case that ruins the illusion Bill’s cast. It doesn’t have any effect.

It’s - this is way too straightforward. It has to be some type of trick.

Pretty weird for it to be so clean, then.

Any bathroom Bill has should be blood-splattered, or filled with bubbling acid - but this one only smells faintly of bleach. It’s lined with black and white tiling, with a shower that looks overly complicated and a bathtub that could fit several people inside. At least there’s no knives in this room - though Dipper does see a safety razor, resting on the sink. Right next to the cup holding the blue toothbrush.

He slams the second door closed, and takes a deep breath.

Maybe he’s disoriented. Maybe Bill turned everything around when he left, like every other corridor in this chaotic place, and maybe if Dipper yanks opens the third door -the one he came through - it’ll cleave between the realms, back into the ritual room, where -

Dipper leans on the doorframe, slowing down his breathing. He shuts his eyes, lips drawing into a thin line.

Or it could just be. Literally the exact same one he came in through.

Standing in the doorway of Bill Cipher’s personal quarters, Dipper frowns at the fireplace. And at the painting over it. Especially at the even more grandiose door that presumably leads to the god’s master bedroom. It’s beautiful, alright, Dipper can’t argue with that - but also ostentatious, and reeking of smug power.

It’s very quiet inside, too. No motion, no magic.

After a bit of hesitation, he leans his head in, checking both ways.

No Bill around, at all.

He must have actually taken off, instead of lying in wait, ready to surprise… The person he told exactly where he could be found. Which isn't much of an ambush, come to think of it.

Dipper lets his arms drop to his sides, then winces and rubs the bandage on his recently stitched one.

When he came into this place, he had a lot of expectations. All of them were backed up by years of knowledge about Bill Cipher. His likes and dislikes, unpredictability, and his bizarre proclivities.

So far, Dipper’s seen… not a safe place, by a long shot. But way less dangerous than what he thought he’d face.

In fact, aside from the trip to get here and parts of the medical experience, this has been way too normal.

Bill Cipher is a being veiled in mystery, or, depending on your viewpoint, mischief. Never totally meaning what he says, rarely acting like you’d think. Even in the most stodgy of ceremonies, the priest had to leave room for the fact that Bill’s not very… conventional. The research Dipper did on his own had similar things to say. Between sermon and study, that alone has been a constant.

Dipper taps his foot on the floor. The carpet remains soft and nonthreatening. The fireplace crackles warmly, and does not consume the room in a terrifying blaze.

What is he supposed to make of all this?

The priest claimed that only he could interpret the subtle signs of Bill’s true meaning, and what actions to take. He was dead wrong about that. Courtesy of the god he claimed to understand, for that matter.

The rest of the congregation can’t offer any insight, either; they’re back in the compound - but frankly? Dipper wouldn’t trust them to interpret a microwave timer, much less their god.

According to scripture, it takes ages of experience, along with deep personal knowledge, to even begin to understand Bill’s motives. One young human like Dipper would never stand a chance.

But if he’s here anyway…

Dipper traces his fingers along the wall, making his way quietly, cautiously, into the room.

Why not get started? It’s not like he has anything else to do.

Having something to study will help pass the time, as long as he’s here. And with this wealth of information in front of him, who could resist?

As he walks into the place, he doesn’t burst into flame, or turn inside out, or get tossed into an eternal void of constant screaming. So, it’s probably okay.

He takes a deep breath, and lets it out. It only shakes a little.

Besides, navigating around an immortal being of eternal knowledge can’t be that different from sneaking around the compound. All evidence so far is that Bill’s actually friendlier about it.

One thing’s pretty certain - he’s not likely to obliterate a guy he’s just spent several hours getting ‘settled’. If anything, he’s sorta intimated that Dipper’s a ‘guest’. Bill’s likely not magically bound to the rules of hospitality, but violating them is pretty universally gauche.

The thought makes Dipper’s shoulders drop. He pats the wall a couple times, then checks his wrist. The bright yellow triangle stays still, overly-large hand still giving a thumbs-up.

Dipper rolls his eyes. Okay. There’s one fact learned - Bill Cipher’s capable of being kind of a dork.

This could actually be pretty intriguing. Useful, perhaps. In the heart of Bill’s home, with all of his stuff lying around - like that pile of books near the couch, or that pile of dishes he saw in the sink, or the fact that he even has a guest room, what the hell is with that -

Dipper can get firsthand information. No more dilapidated scrolls, or censored books, or scrounging around outside to find objective sources.

Bill Cipher, as far as Dipper can tell, actually lives here. In these exact rooms.

He can try and hide the truth as much as he likes, or lie to Dipper’s face, but he can’t hide his living room. Hanging out in your own place is the most authentic anyone can be, god or not.

With that in mind, Dipper gets to the investigation.

Without context, it’s hard to discern what most of the objects around mean. Whether they’re regularly used, or just for display. Until Dipper sees Bill actually interacting with the stuff he has, he’ll just file that information away for later.

About three circuits of the living room, Dipper catches sight of the portrait above the fireplace again. The one with Bill himself, crowned and stepping on the world. Scepter in hand, his single eye beholding -

Ah, right. The eye thing.

Dipper backs up, very slowly. As a parting gesture, he throws a little wave at the portrait, and another ‘cute’ smile.

Then he darts right the hell back into his room, and pulls the door along with him. He lets his head drop back against the wood, and closes his eyes.

Shit. Shit. Of course he wasn’t roaming around freely. There was oversight.

Hopefully Bill’s busy enough to not have cared about a couple minutes of ‘wandering’. As far as he knows, that was, uh… Dipper got lost, right. That sounds believable. Maybe he was even looking for Bill himself.

But snooping? No, definitely not. Why would anyone do that.

Welp. That’s about that, then. Three doors, three results, and zero exits.

Sure, it’s possible that Bill’s room does have a way out, but between the odds of being caught, and the odds of getting lost in the twisting, recursive corridors if he did manage to find it -

Yeah, Dipper’s going to pass.

He saw the other ‘guests’ around this realm, and they didn’t look like the types to leave blood on the inside.

On the upside he’s survived the night. Morning. Whatever time of day it is.

Bill wants Dipper alive, which is strange and confusing and more than a little concerning- but it’s also a huge weight off his shoulders.

Dipper turns to pull the door fully closed behind him, then hesitates.

After debating for a bit, he settles on leaving the door slightly ajar. Hearing when Bill comes back seems like a good idea, while keeping him out doesn’t.

But if Bill were to, say, see a door semi-open and shut it himself, then hey. Kinda his fault for not paying attention. No blame on any humans here.

Ugh, Dipper’s losing focus again; he shakes his head to clear it. His legs feel sluggish too, after the long journey and the.. ‘Getting lost’. They stumble as he takes another step.

After such a long day. After getting hurt, and dragged around, and everything else that’s happened, he’s just so tired.

Just like during the sacrifice, he has to focus on the real priority - and right now? It’s not the immortal, insane demon god.

With a weary sigh, Dipper looks for a place to sit down.

Even pulling the chair out from the desk seems like an ordeal. And while the bed’s far too large for just one person, it's here and empty. Presumably Dipper’s meant to use it, anyway.

And when he takes a seat, it doesn’t leap up to bite him. It doesn’t release any poisoned spikes when he tests the mattress with a quick press of the palm, or snap closed around him when rolls on top of the sheets. The blankets are smooth, without a hint of scratchiness.

Dipper breathes in, and lets it out slowly. He rubs a hand on the top blanket, patting it once or twice, before letting his eyes shut.

It’s just. So, so soft.

Weirdly springy too, compared to his old cot. A mixture of sink and bounce, so that Dipper almost feels like he’ll get absorbed into it like jello, or get thrown out of it if he moves the wrong way.

Shifting his weight, Dipper frowns as he tucks the pillow under his head. How could anyone sleep on something like this? It’s totally impossible.

----------------

Dipper wakes up with a damp pillow under his cheek, a slight headache in his temples, and a sore and aching wrist.

He rolls onto his side with a groan, moving to a drier section of pillow.

Great, he drooled in his sleep again. Super gross. Another reason that not having a tongue sucks.

It’s warm in the room, though, and quiet. His head hurts, so he needs some water. And his wrist hurts, too. Which isn’t surprising after being sliced open.

What’s more surprising is that he actually managed to get some rest afterwards. The whole compound is full of people celebrating or arguing after a ritual goes down. Usually there’s some of both, but right now it’s so quiet that he could swear nobody’s -

With a snort, Dipper jerks his head up off the pillow. He props himself up on his elbow, rubbing at his eyes.

Shit, of course. He’s not in the compound anymore.

Nobody is around, because he’s been taken away by their literal goddamned god, and stowed in this too-big, too-normal room in this alien place. Without other worshipers, who would… probably make things worse, if he’s being honest.

Dipper stuck here, fending for himself. He’s been subjected to… minor medical attention. And a nice bed, and a drink. Not to mention having his first uninterrupted nap in ages.

Thinking about it, it’s kinda hard to see a downside.

One will make itself known eventually. Dipper’s not so naive as to think this is altruism, not from Bill Cipher.

As he sits up, the blankets fall off him and pool into his lap, heavy and soft. For a moment, he’s tempted to pull them back up and curl into the nice, warm bed, under the gentle covers.

But that’s probably not the best idea, considering.

God, he can’t believe he just fell asleep like that. In the house of a nightmare demon, Dipper just went and dropped off like a total, vulnerable moron.

And shit, it’s dark in here.

He doesn’t remember turning off the lights. Or where the lightswitch is, for that matter. He can sort-of make out the furniture around him, some kind of ambient illumination, perhaps. A bit of light also shines out from the closed door leading to Bill’s room.

Somewhere in there, he hears footsteps, and then silence. The feel of that powerful magic, leaking in like the light under the doorframe.

Dipper fiddles with the edge of the blanket. Some kind of quilt, he guesses, one that’s faintly frayed at the edges. It’s very soft.

At minimum, he’s been in Bill’s house for several hours. His best guess puts it between half to all of a day, depending on how long he slept.

Despite all Dipper’s learned about the god’s unavoidable wrath, and his infinite, changeable whims -

It hasn’t been too bad. So far.

Dipper rubs his fingers together, leg jogging under the sheets. Eventually he realizes he’s pulling threads out of the quilt, and hisses through his teeth.

At some point, the other shoe will drop. Bill Cipher is capricious, his favor doubly so.

And nothing ever works out in Dipper’s favor, not even once.

But maybe, if he works at it now - he might be able to make some headway. Hiding away in the bedroom won’t help with that.

Getting up out of the bed is an effort, but his legs feel steady on the floor and his vision is clear. Dipper takes a deep, calming breath. He turns the knob, and peeks out into the room

“Hey hey! Look who’s back in the waking world. In a way.” Bill waves at him with a bright grin. Great, Dipper got spotted basically instantly. “Get over here! I need ya to check this out.”

There it is. His first order.

Dipper shuts his eyes, and walks into the room. He swallows, and drops into the fist form of ritual bow, knees thumping on the carpet.

This absolutely sucks. The one minor upside is that there is a carpet; Dipper’s not going to ruin his knees if he has to do this ten times a day.

Hanging around a god, he’ll be lucky if he spends any time not bowing and scraping and generally genuflecting. Though the idea makes him burn inside, he grits his teeth.

He can cope. He’s been through worse. If nothing else, Bill’s more interesting than the daily grind back at the compound. Albeit in a semi-terrifying way.

“Huh.” Bill says. Dipper mentally checks his posture, but no, it’s perfect. Wait - he forgot to press his hands together, right.

“Huh.” Bill says, this time sounding…

Not very thrilled.

Freezing in place, Dipper runs through his options. In a better world, he’d be able to start doing some chant or whatever, but that’s off the table. A quick peek at Bill shows that he’s not impressed, so. Read that right.

Also not very good. What else is there, though, what can he -

A long, heavy sigh interrupts his thoughts. Bill’s started rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. A totally devout kinda guy.” Bill’s voice is very dry. He taps one impatient finger on the table. “Really feeling all the religious passion, here.”

The clear sarcasm makes Dipper wince. God, of course Bill isn’t fooled. Seeing into the hearts and minds of men as he does, one small human is transparent as hell. He knows exactly what Dipper thinks of him, doesn’t he.

Shit, he’s likely seen everything.

“But sure, if you’re so devoted, you should get up already.” Bill’s tone lightens, and he gives a quick beckoning gesture. That eternal smile bounces back into place. “C’mon, kid. You can’t scrape your nose on the carpet and check out what I asked you to.”

Dipper scrambles to his feet, brushing nonexistent dirt off his pants. It’s a decent excuse not to meet the god’s eye.

He shuffles slowly forward until he stands next to the god. Logically that should make him nervous. He should be sweating and terrified -

But damn it, Dipper really hates genuflecting, and Bill’s total lack of interest is actually, maybe, kind of cool of him.

For a bright moment Dipper thinks there might not be any of that sort of thing, until a robe flops to the ground in front of him.

Ah. A not-very-subtle hint, there. Dipper takes a breath to steady himself -

Then a second robe right on top of the one on the ground. And a third. A fourth follows that nearly hits a cabinet on the wall, and Dipper decides he probably missed the mark.

Bill’s not making a point. He’s just messy.

“Jeez, with this many robes, you’d think they could make a few of ‘em fashionable.” Bill lets out a low whistle. When Dipper glances over, he’s rifling through those cardboard boxes with a frown. “Accessorize! Embroider! Stain ‘em with ichor! This crap is just boring.”

All their robes were pretty identical, but that was the point. To lose one’s individuality, and become a perfect servant for the god. Bill doesn’t sound as appreciative as he should be.

And where the hell did he get all of these, anyway?

The boxes on the table are dilapidated, reused cardboard. None of it matches the style or the reality of this… apartment? House? Something?

Bill chucks yet another robe over his shoulder with a snort. “And don’t get me started on the shape. Or the color!” He sticks his tongue out, letting a final robe dangle from his fingers like he’s holding a dead rat. “I woulda picked something way cooler.”

Whatever his definition of ‘cooler’ is, Dipper doesn’t want to know. Bill catches his skeptical look and Dipper quickly tamps it down.

That single golden eye blinks, then he beckons Dipper closer with a grin. “Get over here, sapling. I gotta know if we’re dealing with the full inventory or not.”

There goes Bill, again. Talking about something without giving Dipper any context for it whatsoever. Likely that’s a sign of things to come.

All the books about Bill Cipher say he’s ‘cryptic’. Now Dipper’s wondering if that was supposed to be a euphemism for ‘annoying’.

Dipper squeezes his hands tight at his sides. Not the kind of thing he should be thinking. Instead, he nods, and checks the boxes as requested.

His god continues messing with the contents, plucking out this and that. Another robe, discarded easily. He sets aside a small ritual set of candles, a setting for ritual offerings. All very distinct. They could have come from Dipper’s own congregation, they’re so familiar.

Wait - but they are.

He remembers Bill asking them to pack up stuff, distantly. He didn’t think about what it was for, other than, like, another weird god request.

But these aren’t just anyone’s things.

No, he recognizes that robe, with the chewed-on sleeve, and that set of trinkets. Hell, all of said robes have similar wear and tear, the same, slightly oversized look.

Dipper glances at the boxes, then back to Bill. Though he can’t speak to ask the question, it must be obvious in his face.

“Yep! This is your stuff, Pine Tree.” Bill points a finger gun, giving Dipper a wink. “I asked those imbeciles back in your cult to grab it for ya. Since you’re staying here with me, and all.”

Dipper’s mouth works, but no sound comes out; he shuts it quickly. Bill, uncaring, flicks a finger at a candle and watches it light with a smirk.

He just- Said it.

Bill Cipher himself called his religion a ‘cult’.

He actually admitted it. Under any other circumstances that would be absolute blasphemy, but the ‘god’ himself just casually tossed out that the entire stupid religion is kinda full of it and he isn’t even bothered by it.

Dipper wants to sit down, but there's no chair nearby. He braces himself on the table instead.

“Don’t get it wrong, I’m still the biggest, baddest being you’ll ever meet! But your group of losers pretended to speak for me.” Bill continues. Something about Dipper’s shock seems to have caught his attention. He throws his arms in the air in disgust. A carelessly held candelabra goes flying. “When I wanna give orders, I handle that crap myself.”

Dipper nods again, kind of numbly.

Yeah, that - that actually tracks. The gap between the Bill he was told about, and the Bill that is, is too vast to be ignored.

Obviously Bill’s weird, it’s part of his basic makeup - but if anything, he matches up more with the Bill that Dipper read about in forbidden texts, instead of the one heard at every sermon. And that…

Honestly, it feels pretty good. Being right. Or right-adjacent; Dipper’s not naive enough to think he has the whole picture yet. Still, being more correct than anyone else? Makes Dipper almost smile.

It’ll get clearer. There’s time, he’s not dead yet.

And who the hell knows what else Dipper’s going to learn, while he’s staying in Bill’s home. The only thing he can predict is that half the things will come totally out of left field.

A nudge on his side catches his attention again. “So! Does this cover everything, or do I gotta nightmare some guys into coughing up the rest?” Bill twirls a thin candle between his fingers idly, and raises an eyebrow. “Anything you wanna keep, or stuff you wanna obliterate?”

The startled look on Dipper’s face must surprise him, because Bill blinks a few times. “What? It’s your crap, sapling.” He offers a half-bow, and a wink. “Your gracious host here, at your service.”

Wow, uh, that - Dipper has to turn away for a moment. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling oddly -

Damn it, getting distracted is bad. He has to shape up. Bill might decide he’ll be less gracious if Dipper doesn’t freakin’ focus, now’s not the time to look incompetent.

He offers Bill a shrug, and a noncommittal wave, then tilts the closest box towards himself.

If he’s going to figure out what to do with his things, he might as well check what’s shown up. A part of Dipper’s surprised that there’s this much of it.

Actually... there's that miniature altar that ‘disappeared’, and a pair of shoes that walked off by themselves. A scattering of little baubles, mostly bare-bones ritual stuff that everyone got handed out. Even though Dipper’s seemed to roll down a grate or get flushed somehow.

Guess Bill’s order really got people motivated to find his things. There’s stuff here that hasn’t made an appearance in ages.

Nearby, Bill’s put on his expectant look again. Dipper’s getting used to it.

Whatever Bill’s looking for, he hasn’t bothered to explain it in the slightest. Much like every other interaction with the guy. It must be pretty good though, because there’s a tinge of eagerness to his expression.

Dipper turns away to poke at the items on the table.

He almost feels bad that he doesn’t know what Bill’s looking for. Even though there’s no logical reason he should. Mind-reading is Bill’s thing, not his followers’.

Well, whatever. Bill can put that face on all he likes. Unless he has a few helpful hints on hand, he’s just gonna have to wait.

As for the possessions - A quick evaluation of the first box of stuff reveals… mostly things he doesn’t care about either way. On the other hand, he’s never had this many things before, and it would feel weird to just. Dispose of them this easily.

But then again…

He never has liked the robes.

Tentatively, Dipper points at the cloth on the floor, then cuts a finger over his throat.

Bill made his opinion on them clear, so. If he agrees. Maybe Dipper actually won’t need them during his stay in this -

A sudden burst of blue flame startles him; Dipper jumps in place, going tense.

Noted - be careful about inviting Bill to destruction, because he does not hesitate.

“Great!” Bill claps his hands together, rubbing them vigorously. “Half done - now let’s wrap this up and move onto something more fun.”

Patience must not be Bill’s strong suit, because he turns the boxes upside down, dumping everything out on the table. A few broad swipes spread it over the wood, a careless tumble of what’s, honestly, mostly junk.

Some of it was clearly just tossed in to make the box more full; the top layer is all stuff from the ritual room. As for the stuff that is his, well. How much of it could he actually need? There’s candles, a bunch of knickknacks that he didn’t even like when he was still in the, well. Cult. There’s a thick worn notebook, and his journal with its slightly tattered cover and the bookmark still in place -

Shit. Shit, shit shit.

Dipper’s heart leaps into his throat. He glances at Bill, then back to the table.

How did they find that, it was under the loose rock in the corner. Did they know all this time that he had this. Did they not care, or was it truly hidden and only discovered later. How the hell did it survive all the way here?

However it got here - that’s. All his notes, all his research. All his thoughts, lying there for Bill to -

Wait. Bill. Hasn’t noticed, yet.

He’s picked up a tiny brass necklace. His eye narrows as it dangles from his fingers. Not surprising; it is a pretty awful portrayal. The angles are anything but even.

And while he’s distracted, Dipper makes a grab for the books.

He times it right; as Bill tosses the necklace away and into the fireplace, he slides both books across the table, tucking them into his pants and under his shirt.

Not the first time he’s hidden contraband - and probably not the last. A quick check on Bill shows a totally nonchalant demon, slightly bored with the junk in front of him. Either he truly didn’t notice - or doesn’t care about what Dipper pulled. Either one’s a win.

Dipper feels tension seep out of his shoulders, and he shuts his eyes.

Compared to the god of fury and torture Dipper was taught about, the true god is relatively even-tempered. So far.

But he already knows how bad it gets, when something terrible is spoken about his god. There’s no way Bill would like reading what Dipper wrote about him.

“Aha!” Bill exclaims, and yanks his latest prize out of the pile, holding it in the air. “Knew there had to be something good in here.”

Dipper takes one look at whatever’s got Bill so enamored - and makes a face.

Oh no. He forgot about…. that.

“Maybe being ‘devout’ isn’t your style, but there might be a better term.” Bill’s sharp teeth are white in his smile. He flicks one of the ragged felt arms, squeezing the yellow ‘torso’. “How’s ‘obsessed’ fit ya?”

The stupid awful Bill Cipher plushie dangles limply in his grip. As Bill gives it another squeeze, some more of the stuffing puffs out. Worn as it already is, with one of the legs missing and the pupil in the eye worn away, it makes the entire thing look twice as pathetic.

Dipper staunchly resists the urge to hide under the table. It’s too late anyway. He’s not escaping this now.

Who the hell decided to pack that? It’s ugly and stupid and juvenile. If Dipper had been able to choose what he brought along, he would have deliberately left it behind. Maybe burned it, so nobody else would know he still had one.

As it stands, he’s torn between being glad it’s here - and totally goddamned humiliated.

He makes a quick grab for it, but Bill dodges him with a grin.

“Ah ah ah! Nice try.” He waggles it again, beaming bright. “I knew it! You’re super interested in me, aren’t you? Was this little guy your favorite? Didja cuddle up with him in bed every night?”

Asshole probably saw all of that happen, and now he’s taunting. Dipper grits his teeth, hands clenching by his sides.

Damn it, it’s not Dipper’s fault there weren’t a lot of soft things in the cult. Who cares if he had something that made his life suck a little less? Especially one that flatters Bill himself. If anything Bill should be pleased, knowing he got some devotion from this less-than-pious human- but instead he’s being an ass about it.

“I’m right, of course.” Bill says, with smug certainty. “Ol’ mini-me here got oodles of affection, didn’t he?” He rubs his chin thoughtfully, backing up as Dipper turns around the table corner in pursuit. “Now let’s see…”

Dipper sucks in a breath, watching Bill bring it to his face. His teeth bared in a sharp smile, mouth slightly open.

Bill shuts his eye, and puffs a breath over the plush. For a second Dipper thinks it’s about to be consumed in fire, he stumbles forward in protest.

But though it’s blue all over, it doesn’t burn. As he watches, the hole in the side closes over, stuffing concealed. Some of the minor stains come out, the stitching of the bricks turns black and pristine. The second leg dangles beside the other, the eye is full and renewed and only maybe blinks.

Dipper stops his chase, pausing with his hand on the table.

That plush hasn’t looked anywhere near that good since he was little. Bill acted like it was nothing to him. Bill thought it was funny. He could have turned it into nothing, just for kicks - and it’s.

Every time he thinks he knows what Bill Cipher is up to, his expectations get turned upside down and shaken for loose change. Dipper doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

Bill looks over his work with pride, picking up one of the arms to shake it. “Nice to meet ya, Bill! I’m the real, better Bill.” He pauses, then nods solemnly, as if it responded. “Yeah, I am the greatest. Glad you noticed!”

And in a stunningly unsurprising turn of events, Bill’s also going to be obnoxious about this.

Bill brings the plushie right up to Dipper’s face, pitching his voice higher. “Oooh, Pine Tree, I’m so glad to see ya! You’re my favorite human.” He lifts the felt arms in a floppy invitation for a hug. “I love you sooooo much!”

Dipper feels his lips draw into a thin line, while Bill’s mouth arches up in a grin.

“What’s that?” Bill cups his ear as if to hear better. “You want a kiss?” Dipper shakes his head, but not before Bill starts mashing the stupid plush against his cheeks. He tries fending it off, but Bill’s quick enough to find every gap in his defenses. Also, he’s making exaggerated kissy sounds. “Mwah mwah mwah!”

Dipper snatches the stupid plush from Bill’s stupid hand, then turns right on his heel and storms back to the guest room.

Behind him, he hears Bill cackling with laughter.

He knew he was in for some kind of trial. A type of torment. What he’s faced so far hasn’t been terrible. Or much at all, compared to when he was back with the congregation.

This god isn’t quite the creature of eternal nightmares and torment that he was always told about. Instead he has other motives, ones too strange and subtle to interpret. Dipper should be thankful.

A glance backward shows said god slumped on the couch, cackling to himself with one hand on his forehead.

But Bill sure thinks he’s fucking hilarious.

Dipper slams the door shut, as loud as he can. It doesn’t quite block out the continuing laughter. He slumps against the door, letting out a long, tired sigh.

Great. He doesn’t know what else he expected.

Bill Cipher’s a total asshole.

#I meant to get this done quicker but my body betrayed me with illness #Probably coulda done another editing pass but I am tired and need a nap #Apologies for all of this; My November was kinda bad and then I compensated by writing Hella Fluff #Gotta wait till next part for Bill to find out the reason Dip's so quiet #That's going to be very fun :3c #For me that is #Uhhh anything else that I can add as a fun note #There's one particular scene that made me go yeah this is a good reason to write a shitton of words to get there #Because I am a fool #Hope this was fun to read you guys!! I am gonna take a friggin' nap

188 notes · View notes

lumi-nescentt · 5 months

Text

Rumor Has It

Part 4 - A Single Thread Of Gold Tied Me To You

Pairing: Jenson Button x Reader / Mark Webber x Reader

Warnings: Mark, yes that's a warning in itself in this

Words: 4.8k

Summary: Now that you and Mark are done, you're free to explore whatever's between you and Jenson. It's not as easy as you thought between expectation and ghosts of your past actions still lingering around.

A/N: Shoutout to my ex who actually said to me some of the stuff Mark said in this chapter. At least they gave me writing material on top of self-worth issues so it's not all bad :) Also thank you to the person who asked for a part 4 and sorry it took so long, hope you like it <3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Leaving Mark had been hard. You had grown into the woman you were now alongside the Australian and despite how bad things had turned out, the two of you still had history. It had never crossed your mind that what you had with Mark could one day become a bother because you had once thought you’d stay together for a very long time.

Since your break up, and especially since it had been made public, everyone seemed to think they were entitled to have their opinion on your past relationship and to make it known to you. You couldn’t lie and say it was easy for you because despite not knowing much about what happened, almost everyone was siding with Mark and that hurt.

The world of motorsports was already harsh enough on women but after this whole breakup, you felt it more than ever. Thankfully, you loved your job enough to push through all the comments about how you ruined the only good thing in your life. Jenson had been a huge support mentally and even physically when he could get away from his responsibilities as a driver.

Not wanting to make the same mistake you made with Mark, you had decided to try and explore what you felt for the Brit in private and Jenson didn’t mind in the slightest. You kept to yourself in the paddock but as soon as it was just the two of you in the comfort of the hotel, he was by your side for as long as you wanted him to.

Jenson knew you were still hurting a little and the last thing he wanted was to make you rush into a relationship you were not ready for yet so for months, all he did was be there as a friend when you needed him. He never tried anything again and the kiss you shared the night you broke up with Mark was the only action either of you had for a long while.

As much as you appreciated the thought, having him this close and yet this far was starting to be a torture and you were growing restless. The kiss was haunting you, that was the only way to put it. Since every hotel room you stayed in looked pretty much the same, you couldn’t escape the memory even if you tried.

A part of you was almost starting to believe you imagined it and that same part of you sounded strangely similar to Mark. It was there in the back of your mind, telling you Jenson didn’t like you despite every sign and every action saying otherwise. Maybe if the breakup had been more recent, you’d have listened to it more but lately you could hear yourself think clearly again.

It was a relief, feeling at peace with who you were, after years of not feeling enough for your boyfriend and for yourself. You were growing more comfortable and people seemed to notice how their comments started to roll off your back because they were getting fewer and fewer as time passed. You were walking in the paddock with your chin up high, smiling at the people you once knew and the one you still talked to, life was getting better.

You felt ready to put your time with Mark behind you for good and look towards the future, most importantly towards Jenson. Now you just had to show the Brit it was okay to make a move, that you wanted him back, entirely. Luckily for you, the Monaco GP was coming up and that gave you the perfect excuse to spend some alone time with the Brit.

After arranging it with the man himself, you were calling work to tell them you wouldn’t be needing a hotel room in Monte-Carlo anymore. Jenson seemed to want to spend time with you too because he asked you to come at the beginning of the week instead of on Thursday morning like you usually did.

As soon as the plane landed, you were rushing out of the plane and then out of the airport, into the taxi until you were finally in front of Jenson’s door with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. The Brit opened the door and before he had time to process what was happening, you had thrown your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

-“ Well, hello love ! Missed me much ?” Jenson said before his laugh echoed through the hallway, making his whole chest shake

-“ I actually did but sorry for jumping on you like that.” you stepped away from the hug, straightening your clothes

-“ No need to apologise, you know ?”

-“ Oh, sorry.”

-“ y/n…” Jenson sighed with a smile

-“Sor–”

-“ Don’t even finish that sentence, I’m not kidding.” Jenson threatened, covering your mouth with his hand

-“ I won’t, or maybe I will, who knows ?” you teased before slipping past him and getting inside as Jenson followed you with a grin

The first few hours were spent in this cheerful mood, the both of you teasing each other and laughing until you couldn’t breathe anymore. Despite the pretty chill ambiance, you felt like Jenson was almost walking on eggshells around you. Whenever you were physically close, you could feel his whole body grow tense and the grown man next to you suddenly seemed to forget what to do with his own hands.

It was a little cute at first, it wasn’t very often that you could see the Brit all flustered. Jenson was usually so confident, the whole thing was endearing. However, that didn’t change the fact that you wanted something to happen but with how stressed he looked, you weren’t sure if it was the right time and you were growing a little frustrated. The whole idea behind this trip had been to make a move or to get him to make one and it didn’t seem to be happening on its own so you thought taking the matter into your own hands was the right thing to do.

After dinner, you asked Jenson if you could drive to the top of Monaco to see the sunset. The Brit immediately agreed and the two of you jumped into the car quickly, hoping you wouldn’t miss it. The drive was pretty quiet, Jenson was doing his best to get there on time and you were just looking at the scenery, taking in the view.

You were still doing that when Jenson parked the car. Not wanting to disrupt you, he stayed silent and decided to look at you instead, taking advantage of the fact your attention was elsewhere. You soon realised that it was dead silent and turned around to look at the Brit, only to be met by his eyes already on you.

-“ You know the sunset is that way, right ?” you joked, pointing at the sun disappearing behind the horizon

-“ I know.”

-“ Why are you looking that way, then ?”

-“ I don’t know, the view’s pretty this way too.” he just shrugged, suddenly looking very interested by the sunset

-“ The view or me ?”

-“ Both. You.” he paused “Mostly you.” Jenson confessed, still looking away

-“ Look at me, Jenson.”

-“ Why ?”

-“ Just do, please.” you asked again, turning around on your seat to face him completely

-“ I’m looking at you now.”

-“ I’m gonna ask you a question and I need you to answer honestly, okay ?”

-“ Sounds serious. I’m not in trouble, am I ?”

-“ You’re not, I promise.”

-“ Okay, go on then. Ask away.” Jenson smiled timidly

-“ Do you still like me ?”

-“ What ?”

-“ Do you still fancy me ? Like me as more than a friend ?”

-“ Yeah of course, why are you asking that ?”

-“ Just making sure we’re on the same page.” Jenson looked at you with a confused expression, “ I like you, Jense.”

-“ Are you sure ?”

-“ What do you mean, am I sure ? Of course I am, I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t.”

-“ So this is not because you feel pressured because you know about my feelings ?” Jenson asked, making sure he was understanding what you were saying correctly

-“ No it’s not. I like you because you’re caring, funny, you’re a great friend who’s always here for me when no one else is and not to mention how devilishly handsome and charming you are. That’s why I like you, among other things of course.”

-“ You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say this, y/n.”

-“ Maybe you could show me how happy you are then ?” you suggested with a raise of your eyebrows

-“ I mean I could tell you how much I like you but I thought you already kne–”

-“ Jenson ?” you interrupted him, cupping his face with your hands “ Just kiss me please.”

The Brit finally stopped rambling and pressed his lips against yours. If you had found the first kiss already perfect, this one somehow topped it. Maybe it was the fact that you were finally free to love him or maybe the memory of how good it actually had been had faded but this was definitely the best kiss you had ever shared.

The sunset was long forgotten as you kept kissing, smiling against his lips when Jenson’s hand came to rest on your neck, pressing you even more against him. It seemed like he had been a little too enthusiastic as your elbow that had been on the centre console slipped and you almost fell on him. Forced to separate from each other, you only looked at him with a happy smile before snickering at the situation.

The ride back to his place felt lighter and from the corner of your eyes, you could see that Jenson was smiling giddily, tapping his finger happily on the wheel to the beat of the soft music playing. You looked pretty much the same, a dazed smile plastered on your face as you kept remembering every second of the kiss.

Stuck in your own pleasant thoughts, you didn’t realise Jenson had parked the car until he was opening your door, offering you his hand to help you stand up. It was a sweet gesture and as much as you didn’t want to compare the two, you couldn’t help but note that Mark had never done that in the years you’d been dating.

As quick as the Australian had came into your mind, he left and you focused back on the man in front of you. Since he had helped you out of the car, Jenson hadn’t let go of your hand, intertwining your fingers and rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand for the whole elevator ride. If he got to decide, Jenson wouldn’t have let go of it again but when he saw you yawn softly, trying to hide it, he ushered you to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When you came out, Jenson was standing against the opposite wall, smiling when he saw you. Without a word, you followed the Brit to what you assumed was going to be the bedroom. You knew you were right when he opened the door and a huge bed came into your view. The room was beautiful and comfy, that was undeniable but you couldn’t help but think it lacked some life. It didn’t look as if someone slept there most of their nights at all. Blaming it on the fact that Jenson was away a lot, you shrugged it off before turning to face the Brit who had just cleared his throat.

-“ Well… What do you think ?”

-“ It’s very nice in here, it seems cosy.” you said, sitting on the bed

-“ I’m glad you like it. Do you need anything else ?”

-“ Nope. Just you.” you smiled coyly as the Brit’s cheeks went red

-“ Alright, I think that’s my cue then.” Jenson laughed before taking a few steps towards the door

-“ Wait ! You’re not staying ?”

-“ I thought you were joking about that.”

-“ And I thought that was your room.” you explained, just as confused

-“ Oh no, that’s the guest bedroom. Mine is the door right across.” Jenson pointed at the door behind him that was slightly ajar

-“ Do you mind if I–?”

-“ Not at all, go on.” he scoffed, getting out of the doorway as you stood up and made your way to his bedroom “Please do honestly. I wouldn’t have dared to ask.”

Surely enough, when you entered this bedroom it looked way more like what you expected Jenson’s bedroom to look like. The room was pretty neat apart from a pair of jeans and a polo on the back of an armchair and a blanket hastily thrown over the duvet.

You took the time to walk around the room, letting your fingers run across the furniture as you did. You stopped in front of the small desk next to the balcony door, smiling when you saw that most of the space was taken by picture frames. Crouching so you could see better, you noticed a few pictures of his parents, his sisters and what you could only assume were his nieces and nephews, smiling when you saw Jenson holding a tiny baby in the crook of his arm with the biggest grin.

-“ That’s my sister’s daughter. Her name’s Lea.” Jenson’s voice interrupted your contemplation, his fingers tracing over the baby’s frame

-“ She’s adorable.”

-“ I know right ? She’s the only kid that didn’t start crying the moment her mom put her in my arms, she’s a sweetheart.” he laughed, remembering the fear that had filled him when the first baby cried in his arms

-“ Well, I think Lea has great taste.” you smiled, turning around so you could face him and placing a soft kiss on his lips before going back to looking at the frames, picking the last one

-“ What’s this picture ?”

-“ You don’t remember ?” you shook your head, still trying to figure out where it came from “ It was the night the 2009 season ended, you know when we went out and I kissed you ?”

-“ Yeah, I remember that but I have no memory of that picture being taken.” you admitted again

-“ You were dancing with Hanna when Fernando and I bumped into you. I was apparently very happy to see you again since I lifted you in my arms the moment I saw you. And you seemed to like that because I had never seen you smile as big as in the picture with you in my arms.”

-“ It’s a really beautiful picture, do you have another copy that I could take home ?”

-“ I don’t but I’ll just find the original picture Hanna sent me and we can go print it.”

-“ Hanna sent it to you ?”

-“ Yes, she’s the one that took it.”

-“ She never told me or said anything about it.”

-“ Maybe she just assumed there was no need to since you chose Mark.”

-“ Oh, you’re probably right.” you sighed, looking at your feet

-“ Darling, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I mentioned him, it was stupid of me. Please forget what I just said.” Jenson immediately apologised when he saw your shoulders drop slightly

-“ It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

-“ y/n, look at me please.”

Slowly, you turned around to face him, still looking at your shoes. Jenson was having none of it and after carefully placing his fingers under your chin, he raised your head until your eyes met his.

-“ I’m not blaming you for choosing Mark. I don’t care about him. All I care about is that you’re here with me and you’re no longer miserable because of that sod.”

-“ You promise ?”

-“ I promise you.” Jenson nodded, before kissing your forehead and pulling you into a hug

When he felt you yawn against his chest, Jenson said that it was definitely time to go to bed and let you settle in his bed before joining you. The two of you lasted 5 seconds on opposite sides of the bed before you turned around to face him and snuggled your face against his chest as his arm rested over your waist, keeping you close. It was a nice feeling. Unlike kissing him which made your heart race at insane speeds, sleeping next to him was soothing and you found yourself quickly drifting off to sleep with a relaxed smile.

As much as you had enjoyed the parenthesis of living in your own bubble in Jenson’s apartment, you couldn’t stay there forever and you had to eventually go back to work. Working in Formula 1 never felt like a chore, even when you were knackered, you still loved the ambiance of the buzzing paddock and it was even more true when it came to Monaco.

In your years travelling across the globe, you could attest that there was truly no place on earth to match the vibes of the principality, especially during the Grand Prix. These streets were made for racing, a beating heart of the sport that made everyone, fan or not, hold their breath in anticipation when the cars came bursting out of the tunnel and into the chicane.

Even when the cars weren’t racing, the whole city was vibrating with energy as luxurious cars and even more luxurious guests paraded around. It should have been easy to get lost in all the frivolity and superficial things around but trapped between the mountains and the sea, Monaco stayed beautiful to those who knew where to go when the glitz and the glam became too much.

You and Jenson had always been one of those people who knew how to balance the high end life of Monaco and the simpler things to enjoy which made it a very dear place in your heart. This weekend when you entered the paddock, it all felt lighter and your colleagues could tell from your relaxed face and the content smile you were proudly showing.

You hadn’t been able to come at the same time as Jenson but he had promised to meet up for lunch so instead of looking at your watch every five minutes, hoping to make time pass faster, you decided to really focus on your work which you knew would make lunch come sooner. It was actually the first time in a while where you felt like yourself again at work and the drivers could tell too apparently. Some of them politely said you seemed in a good mood when others you knew better like Daniel were even happier to see you beaming and hugged you.

Chatting with the smiley Australian had taken up the rest of your time before your break so you started heading towards the meeting point you and Jenson had previously agreed on. You got your phone out of your bag to text him and tell him you were on your way when you bumped into someone, immediately apologising for not looking at where you were going.

-“ It’s okay, I should have paid attention to the people around me too.” the person you had hit said, the distinctive voice making your head snap up to look at him

-“ Mark. What are you doing here ?”

-“ I’m here with Channel 4, they had an open spot as a commentator so I thought I’d give it a go.”

-“ Oh, okay. That’s nice.” you said with a tight smile, looking around for an excuse to leave without seeming rude

-“ I know I’m probably the last person you want to see these days but I was wondering if we could talk ?”

-“ I’m in a bit of a rush, actually.” you tried, taking a step to the side already

-“ Please y/n. It’ll take a minute and then I’ll get out of your hair if you want me to.” he pleaded, using the voice he knew you couldn’t resist to when you had been together

-“ Fine but make it quick.” you sighed, crossing your arms

-“ I know I wasn’t really nice to you the last time we talked–” you rolled your eyes at the understatement making him blush in embarrassment “I was a real arse and you didn’t deserve it.”

-“ I know that, Mark. If all you wanted to tell me is stuff I’m already aware of, I think I’m going to go.”

-“ I’m not done, hold on.” he answered quickly, trying to grab your waist in an attempt to make you stay before you jerked your arm away from him

-“ Don’t touch me.” you almost snarled, feeling anger rise slowly

-“ This isn’t how I saw this conversation going.” he muttered, scratching his beard

-“ Well what did you expect, Mark ? I’m not going to welcome you with open arms and pretend like it’s totally fine between us because that’s simply not the case.”

-“ I don’t know, I just thought you’d be nicer honestly.”

-“ Excuse me ?”

-“ That sounded wrong, forget what I just said.”

-“ No ! You don’t get to say messed up stuff and then tell me to forget it. I don’t owe you anything so if you think I’m going to be all nice to you because we’re in public, think again.”

-“ I just came here to talk about us, I didn’t want to argue. I promise.” the Australian tried to justify himself

-“ Mark. There’s no us. It’s been months since we broke up and if I’m completely honest, there was no us from the moment you shoved your tongue down someone else’s throat while we were together.” you spat, not realising how loud the two of you were now talking, attracting the attention of everyone around.

Jenson, who had been walking to meet you, had just come into earshot of your conversation and upon hearing the way your voice was getting more high-pitched and irritated by the second, he pushed through the crowd and came to stand by your side in an instant. Not even looking at who you were talking to, Jenson put himself in the middle, looking at you carefully.

-“ Is everything okay, love ?”

-“ It’s okay Jense, I’m handling this. I’ll be with you in a second.” you smiled before looking at the Australian standing behind

Getting out of the way, Jenson finally got to look at the person you had been talking to and he felt his body grow rigid when he was met with the face of his old friend who looked just as spooked by the sighting.

-“ Why is he always here ?” Mark asked, visibly annoyed

-“ Because I actually want him to be there and he doesn’t act like my presence irritates him.”

-“ I’m sure that time will come.” he mumbled under his breath, hoping you hadn’t heard

-“ You know what ? This is just a waste of my time. I don’t need to hear the words of a pathetic cheater. I don’t care what you wanted to say to ease your conscience, Mark, so you can take your apology and shove it up your arse.” you roared, wrapping Jenson’s hand in yours before storming away, leaving the Australian dumbfounded in the middle of a crowd who was now giving him dirty looks

You didn’t stop walking until you saw an empty lunch table and dragged Jenson to sit next to you on the bench, letting your head fall on his shoulder with a long sigh. Your hand was still holding Jenson’s and you felt his thumb trace soothing shapes on the back of it not daring to break the silence just yet. After a few moments without moving or saying a thing, you felt the Brit moving, turning to look at you.

-“ How are you feeling ?”

-“ I don’t know. I feel angry at him but also relieved because I don’t think he’ll try to talk to me again.”

-“ He’d be even stupider than I thought if he tried. You looked pretty convincing out there and he definitely deserved what he got.”

-“ Are you sure ? I didn’t want to cause a scene but he made me so enraged I just snapped.”

-“ He got what was coming for him so don’t feel bad. It was totally justified.”

-“ I don’t know. I don’t like to be mean…” you sighed, putting your head in your hands for a second

-“ You’re not a mean person, love. If you had to get mad for him to understand, it’s his fault not yours.”

-“ Thanks, handsome.” you smiled, trying to make the conversation lighter, jokingly bumping your shoulder with his

-“ Well that’s new…” he smirked, his cheeks a subtle shade of pink

-“ What, you don’t like it ?” you teased

-“ I love it actually but it’s making me want to do things that I don’t know you’re comfortable with.”

-“ Ooh, cheeky.” you laughed freely

-“ Not that, you pervert ! I meant kissing you.” the Brit blushed even harder

-“ Oh well I mean I’d be okay with that. If you’re okay with it too, of course.”

-“ Really ? I don’t want to put you in trouble or to have people criticise you or anything.”

-“ It’s pretty strange but if I really think about it, I don’t really care about that. Like I’d rather be able to kiss you and be happy than worry about what people will think and not do something I want.”

-“ You’re amazing, you know that ?”

-“ Had to get at your level, handsome. Now please, can I kiss you ?”

-“ If I ever say no to that, please take me to the doctor.” Jenson grinned before brushing your cheek with his hand and pressing his lips against yours

You smiled against his lips, biting his bottom lip teasingly before pulling away and acting normally, asking him about what he wanted to eat as he gazed at you mesmerised. You were both so lost in each other that you didn’t pay attention to anything around you. Not to the German driver who was coming your way with a smirk or to the tall Australian staring daggers at you from across the paddock.

If ignoring Mark was easy, ignoring Seb wasn’t. As soon as he had seen the two of you kissing, he had changed his path and planted himself in front of you with a knowing grin.

-“ Well, well, well… What do we have here ?” he teased

-“ You see Seb, when two people really like each other sometimes they want to press their lips together to show how much they appreciate the other one.” Jenson started

-“ Thank for that very helpful insight mate. I actually have a girlfriend so trust me I know.” he winked at you, making you roll your eyes with a smile

-“ Who says we’re not dating ?” you asked the German as Jenson looked at you, mouth agape

-“ Jenson’s face when you just asked me that.”

-“ Fair enough.” you admitted, looking at the Brit before lacing your fingers together

-“ More seriously, it’s nice to see the two of you happy. You deserve it.”

-“ Thank you, Seb.” Jenson smiled as you thanked his friend

Sebastian would have loved to stay chatting but just like you were on a lunch date with the Brit, he was actually on his way to meet up with Hanna so he quickly left you alone, not before promising to get together later to “know all about your blossoming relationship” according to him.

The conversation with the German driver wasn’t the last one you had about your new relationship with Jenson over the course of the weekend. Everyone you knew in the paddock seemed to have seen or heard about your altercation with Mark or the kiss you had shared later on. Maybe the woman you were when you were dating Mark would have minded that people seemed so interested in your relationship but you find that it didn’t bother you at all.

Even though you wanted to keep your personal life mostly private, you were more than happy to say that Jenson was a real gentleman who made you feel on top of the world and if the word “love” came into your mind when you were telling all these people about him, that was something you’d deal with later.

Maybe you’d tell Jenson later on that day when you got back to his place and settled in his bed, wrapped up in his arms. Or maybe you’d blurt it out the next morning over a shared breakfast overlooking the marina, the sun hitting his face perfectly as he laughed at something you said. Perhaps, you’d tell him on your next date after extending your stay in Monaco until you had to leave for the next race alongside Jenson.

No matter the scenario, there was no doubt in your heart that Jenson’s reaction would be genuine and if the way he looked at you was any indication, you were pretty convinced the feeling was mutual. After all, would he have waited 6 years for you if he wasn’t smitten in love with the pretty journalist that had caught his heart in a single interaction all those years ago ? Probably not… The most important thing was that you were no longer scared of what the future held because you knew that one way or another, Jenson would be by your side and that was enough to reassure you.

#jenson button x reader #jenson button #f1 #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 scenario #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #mark webber x reader #mark webber

143 notes · View notes

weirdgenetic-fuckup · 2 months

Note

can you write about dave mustaine watching the fem!reader touching herself through a small space in the bedroom door, and then decides to take the reader by surprise and helps her with his big hands?

A/n: I love size differences, maybe because I'm short but just the thought of it even in a domestic sense like cuddling and stuff, I love it. Dave is half a foot taller than me so I very much enjoyed writing this lol

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, squirting, if you think I missed something please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

You had been living with your parents for your whole life, bouncing between jobs but nothing ever seemed to stick. Thankfully, your parents were happy to have you around and understood the situation.

Everyday you would check the newspaper for job openings, you’d walk around town and hand in your resume.

One fateful day you were walking around. You were getting down on yourself pretty hard, all your friends had jobs, some had families. You were trying harder than anyone and it seemed to be getting you nowhere. Of course it just had to start raining.

Without an umbrella your only hope was to find a newspaper stand. There was one nearby and you got a random newspaper to hold over your head as you made your way back home. It wasn’t that far so the paper didn’t get soaked all the way through, you thanked your lucky stars.

You got your shoes off and headed into the kitchen. You fell onto a chair at the dining table and dropped the newspaper onto the table before planting your head beside it, completely drained.

Your mom came over and sat beside you, rubbing your back in a comforting manner. She looked over the newspaper and saw a job citing. “What about this one?” She asked, pointing to the small column asking for a tour manager, someone to help get this band you’ve never heard of what they wanted when they wanted it or something. They were paying a fair price and the criteria seemed easy enough so you gave it a shot and called the number. I man answered, walked you through the interview and like that you were hired.

You’ve now been working with Megadeth, an up and coming thrash metal band, for a few weeks now. You’ve been on tour for a week or two, everything has been going great and you were happy to be with this job. The band was nice, anytime anyone ever gave you any trouble they were right there with you, a group of menacing fellows who weren’t afraid to throw more than a few hits.

You were in your room the night before an early flight. The lead singer of the band had a suit and offered you the spare room because he didn’t want you having to pay for a whole room when he had a perfectly fine empty one, his words. That ‘spare’ room you took was supposed to be the bassists room, for whatever reason he decided to give Dave the whole room.

Whatever the reason you didn’t care all too much, you were more than happy to not have to pay for your own room.

You felt that this was finally working out for you, after all your struggle and hard work you’d finally made something, a good something. While lying in bed you figured you deserved a treat, a reward for doing so good.

You slid your hand under your waistband and into your panties, a nice lacey thing you got for yourself as another treat. Feel good, look good, right?

Your fingers circled your clit and teased your hole. Your body was so hot from the excitement you’d been keeping from it for so long that now every touch just drove you crazy.

Dave’s room was right beside yours, he couldn’t quite hear what you were doing but the walls were thin enough that he could hear you rustling around. There had been times during the tour that you guys had to take a flight, fairy or bus ride through the night and Dave had caught you up at unreasonable hours more than once so he figured it was just that, you couldn’t sleep and were tossing and turning to find a comfortable position that didn’t seem to exist.

He got out of bed and made his way to your room. The door was opened a crack and he could see you moving around on your bed. The way your fingers sunk into your hole, the way your back arched and your legs stretched out. He saw all of that, the way you pleased yourself.

He never planned on admitting it to you, he swears, but he didn’t hire you because of the interview. He hired you because of your voice, he didn’t think a more beautiful voice could exist and he knew your looks would match.

Before the tour started he found himself thinking of you late at night, he’d end up in the same predicament that you were in right now. His underwear bunched around his ankles, legs spread apart as he pumped his hand up and down his shaft.

He was given an opportunity right now as he watched you. He was already hardening in his pants at the idea of helping you get off. Your hands just weren’t cutting it, his hands were bigger, calloused from playing the guitar for years.

He opened the door and let himself in. You immediately went to cover yourself, tugging the blanket over your exposed body as fast as you could but it was far too late.

Dave paid no mind to it and just walked over to the bed as you tried to straighten yourself out. “Davie, I-It’s not what you think, I was just-”

“Shh, just let me help you.” Dave said with a soft smile. He sat beside you on the bed, putting an arm around your shoulder and pulling you to him. He slowly peeled the blanket off of you, revealing your naked body all for him.

Dave moved behind you, letting you lean back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. His one hand went to your chest, groping your chest and pinching your nipples while the other went to your cunt.

He toyed with your swollen clit a bit before pushing a finger in you. Your back arched against him and he loved it. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curling inside you and pushing against your gummy walls, searching for that perfect spot that made you see stars. When he found it he made sure to hit it over and over again.

Your mouth fell open in a waterfall of moans. His finger stretched you out more than your own did, the callouses felt so much better as they prodded your sensitive flesh. “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” Dave whispered in your ear. “Just couldn’t get yourself off, could you? Needed help, didn’t you?” You nodded, bucking your hips into his hand.

“Yes! Yes, fuck, yes, please!” You cried, gripping his arm tightly. Dave chuckled at you and stuck another finger into your hole, making your eyes shoot open and roll to the back of your head. Your body shook as it was taken over by climax, one you hadn’t seen coming until it coated your body.

It took you several moments to figure out why Dave was smiling so proudly down at the sheets. It wasn’t until you gained back your composure enough to look and see that you’d squirted all over the hotel mattress, soaking the sheets and comforter. Your eyes widened at the mess but Dave just chuckled. “What a pretty girl.”

#dave mustaine #dave mustaine smut #megadeth #megadeth fanfiction #megadeth smut #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine fanfiction #megadeth imagines #megadeth x reader

82 notes · View notes

ghostytoad · 6 months

Text

* Fun n' Games *

ROTTMNT Boys x GN! Leo-esque reader who enjoys drama, making jokes, and being overall awesome

Summary: The Hamato brothers unexpectedly fall for the smug, but genuine, fun-loving reader despite their egocentric habits

Headcanons for: Casey Jones

GN! Reader; Romantic; Fluff; Mild angst || Words: 1.2k

Raph | Donnie | Leo | Mikey

Casey Jones Jr.

the moment the boy lays eyes on y/n and sees their easy-going nature, he is head over heels. the emotion practically hits him like a truck and it's all so… new?

it's something he can't initially explain and for a little while, he worries that he's dying or sick from the new york air - he will constantly check in with donnie and ask for every test under the sun to determine the cause

all he knows is that when y/n is around, his face gets hot, his knees are weak, his palms start sweating, and his heart beats wildly in his chest. being an apocalypse survivor, this adrenaline-like feeling can only be attributed to danger or shock

and as far he knows, y/n doesn't pose any danger, right? they've been like family to him and he sees so many admirable traits in them that he had once seen in his sensei (who happened to be the greatest ninja ever); he's genuinely confused by the whole thing

he might try to keep his distance until he figures out why this is happening, but he won't say no to joining y/n on little adventures. he enjoys the company and he especially appreciates how helpful they've been in getting him adjusted to life in present-day new york

"hey, why don't i come along? i'm sure you can handle yourself but i'd be happy to be there for you."

he can't help but compare a lot of what y/n does to how his sensei was in his old timeline. he doesn't mean to do it, he just misses his old mentor and y/n's presence is a familiar comfort to him. leo is great and all, but there's something special about y/n.

casey deals with some pretty major insomnia and when he finds it hard to sleep at night, the first thing he does is call up y/n. they thankfully answer every time and their voice easily manages to soothe the poor boy to sleep (he will snore LOUDLY into the phone when he falls asleep during the call)

he's constantly worried about y/n's safety and will check in on them often when they're not in the lair or at home. he's even asked donnie to make y/n their own communicator so he can keep in contact with them if they're ever in danger.

y/n is one of the first people casey jr will open up to about his rough upbringing. some things are just too painful to bring up to the hamato family, but he knows it hurts more to keep it all bottled up. he loves how accepting they are of him and how sympathetic they can be about his… shall we say, emotional fragilities.

not that he's emotionally fragile, but he sure enough has a lot to sort through and y/n gives him the courage to tackle it head-on and accept where he is and who he is now

on his first attempts at flirting with y/n, he managed to straight out admit he had a crush on them without realizing it. boy is so clueless that he doesn't realize what he's done until he sees the shock on their face

"Hey, Y/N. I, uh, have another joke for you." Casey hadn't looked up from his little joke book as he spoke, squinting as he studied the content as if he'd suddenly understand it better if he just stared at it long enough. Y/N sat lazily on a couch not too far from the boy, head buried in a copy of the latest Jupiter Jim comic book. They paused their reading only to let out a hum of acknowledgement.

"What is it this time? Chicken cross the road again or knock knock?"

"Who's there?" the boy chimed absent-mindedly.

Y/N let out a soft giggle as they set their book down.

"No, genius, you're the one that's supposed to start." They couldn't help but roll their eyes as a smirk tugged at the corner of their lips. Though progress had been slow, they'd hoped a joke book would give Casey a much needed boost considering his previous, pitiable attempts at jokes that more often than not became a moment of oversharing his tragedy. The poor boy was utterly hopeless when it came to comedy.

"Oh, right." Clearing his throat, he straightened himself as if he were getting ready to give a speech, "Okay, knock knock!"

"Who's there?"

"Candice…"

"Candice who?"

"Candice be love I'm feeling for you?"

The weight of his words were completely lost on him as Casey beamed with pride, his joke landing with no mistakes or stuttering. It was no secret that Y/N and Casey were close, but in the short period of time they'd come to know each other, Y/N had developed some deep affections for the boy. The constant struggle to keep themselves in check around him had started taking its toll. It had gotten to the point that Y/N needed to keep their yearning eyes on something- ANYTHING ELSE- when he was around to keep from visibly flustering, the ever-present blush threatening to expose their true feelings. Feigning a soft chuckle, Y/N could only hide their face deeper in the comic they were reading and hope that any flutter of emotion went totally unnoticed.

"R-Really, was that your idea of a good joke?" their attempts at a tease came off a tad more hostile than playful.

Casey responded with a chuff of his own, "Ah, yeah I guess it doesn't make sense if I already know it's true."

"Sometimes comedy takes-" the sudden impact of his words hit them all at once, caught like a deer in headlights while they froze mid-sentence. Peering over at the raven-haired boy revealed an equally shocked expression painted across his reddening face. His mouth opened only to shut itself again and again clearly trying and failing to summon the words to explain his little blunder. Y/N had him beat in regaining some semblance of composure, shaking off the bashfulness.

"Did…" their voice caught in their throat before they started again, "What exactly did you mean by… erm, by that?"

Casey's eyes darted in every direction attempting to search for an answer anywhere he could find it.

"Well, I just- It was really-" he let out a sigh and braced himself, "I'm not sure what to call this feeling but I think it's something like love. I might… maybe love you?"

"Maybe?!"

Y/N shot up from their seat, arms over their head in disbelief and their steps beginning to pace.

"Y-You can't maybe love someone! That's a pretty serious feeling!"

They stopped partway through their rapid pacing to search Casey's bewildered expression causing it to soften a bit under their close observation.

"I don't know if what I feel is exactly what you'd call love, but it... feels close enough to that. I mean... Y/N, when I look at you, my heart starts racing, my head starts spinning, everything feels light and airy. And when you're gone, all I want to do is look for you and see your smile, see the way your eyes light up, listen to your laugh."

His unfocused gaze forced itself up to meet theirs, wide with earnest affection.

"Life here's been… heh, it's confusing to say the least. And these feelings are just as confusing. And for a while I thought it was crazy. Thought I was crazy to believe I could love someone this quickly. But… It'd be so much easier for me to understand if I knew you felt the same?"

Even if this new emotion had been confusing for him, this very moment was one that made it all click in his mind. He was in love all along.

193 notes · View notes

antisocialties · 1 year

Note

matt sturniolo comforting his friend after a long, hard day which leads to a love confession?

Confessions.

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: in which matt comforts his friend after a really long and hard day before confessing his love to them.

Warnings: Touches on mental illness, profanity is also used.

Today had been a hard day. You couldn’t even quite put your finger on why, you just felt shitty the entire day so far.

You felt like reaching out to your friends but didn’t really want to bother them until you felt it was completely necessary.

To be honest, you didn’t want to contact them at all. You always felt like a burden and couldn’t help but feel guilty every time.

You knew that each time they’d dismiss your negative thoughts, but you still felt like maybe they were just telling you what you wanted to hear.

Finally you just decided to fight those awful thoughts and bite the bullet.

You decided to call your best friend, Matt.

The phone rang about 4 times before he picked up. You could hear talking in the background before Matt acknowledged you.

“Hey. How are you today?“

You tried to form words that wouldn’t immediately give you away, hoping your tone would match.

“I’m okay.” you spoke, silently cursing yourself knowing dry responses especially that specific sentence was always one of your biggest tells.

“Uh, you sure? You don’t sound like you’re in the best mood.” he spoke audibly concerned.

You contemplated responding honestly but ended up deciding to do so because you didn’t know how much longer you could handle being alone today.

Matt always understood you, and was always willing to be in your company when he was available to do so.

“To be honest I really don’t want to be alone for any longer, today hasn’t really been the best.” The slight shake in your voice was quite prominent to him.

“Did you want to come here or did you want me to come over? Chris and Nic are here.” He responded almost immediately.

You’d recalled hearing the two other boys’ voices in the background when the phone was answered.

“I’d love to come over, I miss you guys.”

He smiled as soon as he heard what you had to say. He had missed you too he just didn’t want to feel too clingy.

“We’re home, so you know the door is always open for you y/n.” he replied with a grin on his face

You couldn’t conceal the smile on your face after hearing that. Suddenly the whole day had been fixed just knowing you could go see Matt.

Of course you were also excited to see Nic and Chris, but you’d had a crush on Matt for a pretty long time by now.

He was just everything you personally would ask for in a guy.

“Okay, i’m leaving now. Did anyone want anything?”

“Actually Chris was just complaining about how he was starving and Nic and I both agreed we could eat right now.” He answered with a slight chuckle.

You could hear Chris’ giggles in the back, him obviously still being in the room.

You let out a breathy laugh at the thought of him most likely giving Matt puppy eyes before he’d said that.

“Yeah, what does everyone want?” You asked, slipping your shoes on and grabbing your purse.

“I’ve honestly been craving Taco Bell and they both agreed they were cool with that, does that sound okay?”

“Sounds good to me, do you guys wanna text me your orders? I know Nic switches his up sometimes.” You spoke, recalling Nic’s occasionally differing menu choices.

You double checked, making sure your keys and wallet were still in their usual places inside of your bag.

They of course were not and got left on your kitchen counter from the night previous. Thankfully they were easy to find because you’d kept an assortment of cute keychains on your key ring. Not to mention even if you hadn’t, you knew better and had put an airtag on them.

“Yeah I got you, i’ll get them all now and send them to you. Thank you y/n.” Matt voiced his gratitude to you.

You heard a loud chorus of “Thank youuu!” from both Chris and Nic in the background.

“Of course! Love you guys, i’m leaving now.” You told him as you walked out your front door, locking it behind you.

Matt’s heart skipped a little at tbe sound of the words “Love you.” leaving your lips. He didn’t even care that you were referring to all three of them.

He felt a small blush rise to his cheeks, remembering he had to respond to you or the convo would end incredibly awkward on his part.

“Love you, we’ll see you soon.”

He subconsciously let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in after the call had ended.

Nic and Chris were in their own world talking about how they were excited to see you and get their food since none of them had decided to eat breakfast that day out of pure laziness.

“Will you guys text me your exact orders so I can just send her one list?” Matt asked his brothers, trying to make things as easy as possible for you.

“Yeah, it’s sending now.” Chris answered as he tapped the send button on his imessage app.

“Typing mine now, sorry.” Nic apologized.

Matt received two text notifications, letting him know he had both orders and could finish typing up the list he was sending to you.

It only took less than a minute because he’d already had his typed up for you and simply had to copy and paste theirs below his.

You lived nearby so Matt knew that as long as the lunch rush hadn’t started yet you’d be less than thirty minutes.

Thankfully their peak lunch hour hadn’t began yet and you were able to get in and out of the drive thru in less than ten minutes.

You mentally thanked yourself for leaving as soon as you could knowing in just a few more minutes you would’ve been stuck behind the huge line behind you.

It only took another ten minutes for you to arrive at their place.

You first thought you could juggle multiple bags and a full drink carrier and then reality set in as you shot a text to Matt.

Chris was the first to emerge from the front door, practically running to grab two of the bags from the passengers seat of your car.

You immediately began laughing so hard you had to set the drink carrier back down before you caught your breath.

He just smirked as he sprinted inside and up the stairs into the kitchen.

Matt came out to help and you told him you didn’t really need any help anymore but he insisted and took the drink carrier from your right hand.

You silently hoped he didn’t notice the flush upon your cheeks in the bright Los Angeles sunshine.

You guys made your way up the stairs and into their kitchen, setting everything down on the countertop and catching your breath.

“I already got mine so you guys are gonna have to keep looking.” Chris spoke with his mouth almost completely full.

You snickered looking around for everyone else’s reactions.

Matt returned an amused smile as you attempted to stop your intense and obnoxious laughter.

Nic simply gave him a glare of disgust before smacking the absolute shit out of his shoulder and continuing to look through the bags of food for his meal.

“He acts like I won’t beat his ass.” He scoffed.

“Nic here’s yours.” Matt snorted, handing the bag to his brother.

“At least someone has some fucking respect.”

You and Matt gave each other dopey looks before grabbing your food and making your way to his room.

“So did you wanna talk about what was wrong earlier?”

“It was just one of those days for me. Where you don’t even know what’s really making you feel down but you can’t shake the feeling of just being depressed.” You sighed, plopping yourself onto the side of his bed.

You noticed his expression sink as the words left your mouth.

“I know I ask this every time, but is there anything I can do to help at all?”

“Honestly just being here with you is more than enough, i’m already feeling somewhat better.” You shot a soft smile to him.

You watched as his eyes lit up and could feel your face get warm as you held back the burst of excitement that washed over you.

Every time you saw the way his cheeks upturned into that sweet grin, and his eyes sparkled you remembered one of the many reasons you found yourself so in love with him.

“It honestly makes me so happy to hear that, i’m genuinely so grateful I can just be here when you need someone. I love you.”

You noticed his face and movements freeze once he processed the words that just left his mouth.

You knew you were beaming at him and couldn’t even hold it back, especially hearing those last three words.

“I mean, we all love you. You’re so great and you mean so much to us.” He spoke referring to his brothers, desperately trying to cover up his confession.

“I love you too. I mean I love all three of you, but I really love being with you Matt. You make my day every day.” You shyly admitted, a bright red flush upon your cheeks.

“I really thought this would be way more awkward but you just made it a lot less uncomfortable.” He laughed.

“I mean I definitely don’t want to make this weird, but I think I might be in love with you.” He spoke just above a whisper, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

Your heart fluttered, giving him an actual puppy dog face hoping to let him know you completely reciprocated those feelings.

“I’m way too grateful that you had the balls to confess that before I could because I have never been able to work up the courage to tell you that I feel exactly the same. I am so in love with you and have been asking Nic how to tell you without actually throwing up and having a panic attack.” You told him while looking down and playing with your fingers.

You both made eye contact with cheesy grins upon your faves.

You could feel the tension growing and just fed into it and started to lean in, the adrenaline flowing and helping you push passed your anxiety.

Before you knew it Matt was leaning in too.

You closed your eyes as your lips met and you leaned into him, shifting your wait on his bed.

Your lips moved in sync, an unspoken connection making your veins light up and start to burn.

You pulled apart from him, your eyes searching for his to get a reaction.

He opened his eyes to meet yours and you watched as he flashed you a dazed smile, blinking quickly to see if your reaction changed.

You couldn’t even form words yet, you just put your hands on his cheeks and gently pulled him in for another kiss, leaning your forehead against his.

“Hey Matt I think all of the sauce is in your bag- oh…my bad.” Chris interrupted as he barged through the door.

Matt pulled away and you both stared at him before you began hysterically laughing at his hilarious series of expressions.

Chris joined you both after realizing how funny he must’ve looked staring at you guys with his mouth open for a few seconds.

“I’m not even shocked I just feel bad for completely ruining that little moment.”

“You’re good bro, just take some of the sauce.” Matt chuckled, grabbing the bag from the floor beside the bed and handing it to him.

“Thanks.” Chris responded, grabbing his sauce and leaving the room.

Matt turned to you with a cheesy smile upon his face.

“So that happened.” You spoke, nervously chuckling while your eyes met his.

“Chris and Nic both knew I was into you for a long time anyway, so it’s a lot less awkward than what I pictured.” Matt spoke, his cheeks hot and flushed.

“I know for sure Nic knew that I liked you, but I was nervous Chris would tell you before I did.” You told him.

Silence filled his bedroom, and you slid your body next to his, laying down on his bed next to him.

He laid down beside you, reaching his hand out to interlock with yours.

You both laid there in blissful silence, hand in hand.

You were so glad your feelings were finally up in the air, and he reciprocated them. You took comfort in knowing you both saw each other as more than best friends.

You loved him, and he loved you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i’m so sorry it took so long to get this out my loves! i’ve been going through a lot of creativity block all together, but am so glad i finally can post this! i hope you all enjoy, and i will be working on my other requests now too! feel free to keep sending in any requests you have <3

also just a reminder that anyone can be added to my tag list! just leave a comment or send me a message if you’d like to be added :)

ps sorry for any typos, i proofread but sometimes i still miss stuff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag list: @im-a-matt-girl @sturniolomads @hii-multifandom-toomany @stxrniqlo @mettsturniolo @orangetreekid @iluvmatt @lomlolivia @caseysturniolozzz @thetriplets3

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets imagine #sturniolo triplets x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagine

447 notes · View notes

amica-aenigmata-naboo · 6 months

Text

COLLISION

Astarion x Y/N - Chapter 3 - 3.7K WC

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 (you are here!)

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 NSFW 18+

Chapter 6 NSFW 18+

Chapter 7 NSFW 18+

_________________

“Are you sure? No shame in staying behind.” Shadowheart said as she adjusted the last strap on the dark justicar armor she lent you. She looked concerned and wary.

“I’m sure, like you said, we are just going to a cemetery to talk to Raphael then come back. Sounds easy enough.” You shrugged. No wonder everyone’s movement in the game was limited, armor is heavy as shit.

Shadowheart paused, “How did you know it’s Raphael? I only said we had a devil to see…” she trailed off.

“Oh, umm…. With what you’ve told me this sounds like a Raphael thing… he has a certain flare for the dramatics that’s hard to miss.” You deflected trying so hard to sound casual.

Shadowheart hummed but you could tell she was… suspicious. Before you could spiral into an anxious heap, Astarion walked swiftly between the two of you. Hitting your shoulder unnecessarily he said “Are we going to stand around all day coddling them or shall we go?”

He always looked so pissed to be in your general vicinity and you noticed it more and more since the night you showed the group your phone. It had been a week since then, you worked with everyone to build your skills up. Everyone was pretty comfortable around you as of late, Karlach even going as far as to say she trusts you. So why was he the exception? You hadn’t done anything negative towards him? Was he upset about his reflection? Maybe you shouldn’t have sprung that on him? Whatever it was, it was making you both anxious and annoyed.

Truth be told, you were still kinda new to playing Baldur's Gate III in your world. The last save you remember was finishing the last trial in The Gauntlet of Shar. You just hope your limited knowledge might be useful somehow. You have to be mindful however. Little slips like the one with Shadowheart, showcasing that you knew more than you let on, could cause unexpected consequences. You had a few similar slip ups throughout the week but were thankfully able to brush them off. And you still had no idea how to tell them about you, the real you. You decided to keep it hidden for now, and when somebody inevitably asks you’ll tell them all.

——————————

You stepped through the portal with Astarion, Karlach, and Shadowheart. It left your body tingling for a moment. You looked around and vaguely recognized where you were. It’s definitely the Shadow Cursed Lands. The building in front of you looked abandoned but everything in the lands looked abandoned. You started walking forwards to the door of the building. You don’t remember anything bad here from your gameplay. The doors opened and you saw the first person outside of your little jolly group of misfits. She looked like a nurse and didn’t appear to be hostile. The others walked behind you as you slowly walked towards her. She was dipping a sponge into a basin of bloody water and cleaning the leg of a corpse. There were two of them actually. Both dead on separate beds, arms outstretched towards each other.

“The doctor is quite busy today… you may wait in line to be seen.” The nurse said.

“Why are you cleaning corpses, surely there must be something better to do.” Astarion said, typical sass in his voice but also confusion.

“Corpse? They’re merely sleeping…” she said softly, continuing to clean.

“Mmmmm no, those are definitely dead.” He responded, tapping the lid of a nearby jar.

The nurse turned to look at Astarion. “Perhaps I should turn my services elsewhere?” She said dropping the sponge back into the bowl. She pulled out a bone saw and started walking towards him. His eyes widened.

“Sister, look…” you said, pointing towards the bodies. Her head instantly snapped away from Astarion.

“Oh sister they’ve been so well tended to. They sleep like angels. They must be so grateful.” You said, eyeing Astarion as if trying to tell him to back up and shut up.

She dropped the bone saw, grabbing your hands. They were cold and shaking. “Truly? These hands… the doctor must be notified of all patient improvements.” She said starting to walk towards the center of the house where a heavy closed door laid.

“Wait!” You said quickly.

She looked at you, head cocked to the side.

“Your patients will wake soon. Who is lovelier to wake up to than their doting nurse? You stay, I’ll notify the doctor.” You smiled at her.

She shook her head vigorously, “Right, they need me. The doctor is in surgery right now… wait for him there.” She pointed at the large door before grabbing the sponge from the bowl. “Take these will you?” She asked, dropping two rings in your hands. Shadowblade rings. They were Arabella’s parents.

You pocketed them quickly and thanked the sister before silently backing up and walking away.

“Is that your talent? Comforting deranged nurses?” Astarion jabbed.

You elected to ignore him, not feeding into his negativity.

You walked into the operating theater. The doctor had just removed a man’s eyes, the sisters cutting him randomly and harshly. Your eyes widened and you fought the urge to throw up. Seeing this in a game and in real life we’re vastly different and this was insanely more disturbing.

Your foot hit some debris on the floor, notifying everyone of your existence.

“Are you here to aid in surgery? I asked for an attending hours ago…” said the doctor, flinging the man’s eyes off into a corner of the room.

“Yes… of course doctor my apologies.” You detach yourself from your group. The man on the operating table whimpered and whined. His throat was all raw from the endless screaming you imagined. You walked closer to the man. The doctor handed you one of the nurses knives.

You took it gently, the man continued to struggle against his confines. You looked at your companions, they looked at you with just as much anxiety as you felt.

“Be ready” you mouthed to Karlach. She nodded, your companions slowly moving into different locations.

You looked to the doctor who was holding a bone saw. You weren’t exactly in the *best* spot for a battle to start. Let alone your first battle. Let’s just hope somebody likes you enough to give Withers a little gold if the worst happens.

You swiftly plunged the knife into the doctors throat, shoving the nurse next to you as you grabbed your sword. Lae’zel gave you The Cruel Sting for your first time outside of camp, bless her angry ass. You swung at the nurse on the opposite side of you, the sword ensnared her. The nurses spread out, your companions taking them on. The doctor turned his focus to you. “Petulant child…” he said before knocking you on your back, he held his bone saw under your chin. “Don’t fret, I’ll be sure to cure you of your…. Affliction.” He laughed while tapping his head.

You held your arm up just in time for the bone saw to clatter against your armor. Karlach shot her bow at him as soon as she saw you on the ground. The air stunk of drow poison and that seemed to be enough to turn the doctors attention. You scurried off the ground, driving your sword through him as he faced away from you. Karlach hit him with a reckless attack and the doctor dropped to the ground, finally dead. The hall was quiet except for everyone’s heavy breaths.

You smiled at Karlach, impressed with yourself. The smile quickly faltered as you looked down and saw one of the nurses blades in between the metal plates of your armor. Karlach immediately turned and struck down the dying nurse. Shadowheart turned you quickly and pulled the knife out. You screamed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the theater. She spoke a healing spell over you, but her brow drew up in confusion.

“It’s not working.” She whispered.

“The fuck do you mean it’s not working? Fix it!” You yelled. You could feel the blood seeping through the different parts of your armor. Down your stomach, over your thighs…

“I’m trying!” She yelled back, rattling off another spell.

Karlach popped open a potion of healing, she grabbed your face and tilted your head back forcing the bottle to your lips. It tasted like wine; you could feel it envelop your body. As if it were coursing through you seeking out pain. You felt it stitch your wound together sloppily. You cried in pain as it felt like fire putting you back together. You lifted your armor, the wound was partially healed but that would have to do until you got back to camp.

Karlach and Shadowheart asked if you were ok, sympathetic as they both know battle is new to you. Battle wounds are common but you never forget your first.

“Your first battle scar! Congrats soldier.” Karlach said, trying to lighten the mood.

You blubbered out a chuckle, readjusting your armor.

“I’m sorry we were here to see Raphael, yes?” Astarion said walking out to the graveyard without the rest of you.

You sighed and began walking, doing your best not to grimace.

———————-

Everyone listened intently to Raphael. He told Astarion everything you already knew. You had zoned out a bit, hand ghosting over your wound every few minutes.

“And you…” Raphael said in a sultry tone, looking you up and down like a meal.

You closed your eyes desperately wanting to disappear. Of course the devil would know you weren’t of their world.

“Different aren’t you?” He said grabbing your hand, a swift prick to one of your fingers had you snatching your hand back. Raphael dipped the nail into his mouth, swirling your blood on his tongue.

“Mmmm, very different. You’re not from here are you? Strange that you ended up with this lot. You’re far more valuable elsewhere. Have you told your new friends about you? What do they really know and what do you hide?” Raphael smiled as he looked at the others.

They all had their eyes on you. Leave it to the devil to make it sound like you were trying to infiltrate their party.

“Stop.” You whispered at him, the tone of your voice begging him.

“No matter. I’ll see you in time, pet.” Raphael gave you a final smile before snapping his fingers and disappearing into a puff of black smoke.

“And you lot thought I was just being mean. If the devil says they can’t be trusted, what more is to be said?” Astarion asked aloud.

You winced again as your wound stung against the armor. Karlach moved towards you. She grabbed your arm gently, looking at the new red spreading through the cloth under your armor.

“We need to get back.” Her voice was devoid of emotion, flat and unwavering.

Everyone silently went through the portal back to camp.

————————

Gale patched up your wound so you could finally walk around comfortably. Happy to have the armor off of you, you walked to the campfire and began prepping dinner. Everyone else had gone to the stream to bathe or had retreated into their respective tents. You could tell that tonight may very well be the night you have to tell them all your secret. Why not soften the blow with some food?

You made them Baldurian mash since it was all you could think of given your limited ingredients. You set up bowls and spoons and different bottles of liquor for everyone. Just in time, you saw them all trudging up the hill in their night clothes. Everyone looked at you with doubt and caution.

Great.

Everyone smelled the food and silently made their way to the bonfire before dishing themselves their food and drinks. Before anyone could get a bite down Astarion yelled.

“Wait!” He jogged over to the fire.

“Are you sure we should be eating the food of someone who Raphael just told us was hiding things that seem to be of great importance?” He eyed the food and then you.

You scoffed thinking he was joking, and yet nobody took a bite.

You looked around, none of your companions meeting your eyes.

“I may have secrets but I don’t mean any of you harm…. You all are the closest thing I have to friends… I’d never hurt any of you.” You said, voice small but strong.

Astarion laughed, “Sounds like something somebody would say who is trying to kill us. Why else would you make all this?”

That’s it, you’ve had enough of fangs and his attitude towards you. You stood and took a large bite of the mash before taking a swig out of every open alcohol bottle.

“Proof enough for ya?” You asked, shoving past him. “I made all this because I wanted to be helpful. I want to be helpful because you all are my friends. I trust all of you even if you don’t trust me. So how about it fangs? Am I ok to stay or do you have anything else you wanna throw at me?”

Astarion could see the anger in your face. “Let’s just hope your culinary skills are better than your battle skills.” He said walking past you, shoving your shoulder with his.

Astarion expected the sniffle he heard from you.

“Astarion?” You asked.

“What?” He tutted, turning to face you.

What he didn’t expect was the punch that landed square in his face.

“Shit!” You immediately recoiled your hand, already feeling the bruising on your knuckles. You shook your hand out before saying your final piece,

“I have secrets it’s true. And I am happy to tell them to you as soon as I figure out how. But I don’t want to hurt any of you…”

“Excuse me?” Astarion said as he held his bleeding nose.

“Zip it! You have been nothing but spiteful towards me since I got here. I don’t know what your damage is with me but we need each other like it or not. We all need each other. I will fight for you all just as you fight for me. Whatever side you’re on, is the side I’m on.” You finished. Everyone looked at you with wide eyes, occasionally glancing at Astarion and his busted face.

Karlach stood and marched herself over to you. If this was the end for you at least it was Karlach taking you out, it’ll be a quick death. She held out her hand and you apprehensively took it.

“Who amongst us doesn’t have a secret or two? I trust them and their intentions after seeing them outside the camp today. Y/N, you have my support and my trust.” Karlach said.

You couldn’t help but tear up and engulf her in a hug. Thank god she had already had her tune up or it would have been a very short, scorching hug. She only faltered for a moment before hugging you back.

“Enough with the doom and gloom Astarion. Please come eat, it smelled heavenly.” Karlach asked, walking back to her bowl and taking a bite. This seemingly put everyone at ease, everyone starting to eat and drink. Everyone sent you soft smiles or nods of approval as if to finally say “welcome, you’re here to stay.”

Astarion picked up his pride and went to hunt. He was so sure he could turn them against you enough to at least abandon you. Why did you have to be so damn sweet and honest with everyone? He knew he deserved that punch but it didn’t make him want you any less.

You grabbed a bottle of Ithbank before heading to your tent for the night.

————————

You awoke hours later. The camp was quiet except for a groan you heard. You sat up, it sounded like it was coming from the stream. Getting up you wore nothing but your large untied shirt and underwear. You crept over to the hillside. You saw Astarion with his shirt off splashing water onto his shoulder. The night was dark but you could see his hand was covered in blood. Punched or not, you wanted to help him. You slunk down the hill, thankful the riverbed rocks were smooth under your feet.

“May I?” You said.

“Gods! Don’t do that!” He winced. “I don’t want your help.”

“But you need it, you stubborn jackass.” You said, grabbing his hand and marching him back to your tent. You sat him on your bedroll before grabbing a cloth and pouring some water from your canteen on it. You gently pressed it to the slash on his shoulder.

“Care to tell me what happened?” You asked.

“No.” He said bluntly.

“Looking to get punched again?” You said, quirking an eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes as he tried to stifle the hiss he had to let out from the pain.

“We could be friends ya know. If you weren’t out to get me for some unknown reason.” You said with a tinge of sadness to your voice.

“And why would I want to be your friend?” He asked.

“I’m smart, funny, attractive….” You smiled as you listed.

He let out a chuckle, “Might want to add vain to the list.”

“Seriously though, why don’t you like me?” You asked, setting the cloth aside and going for some bandages you had in your camp pack.

“I don’t trust you there’s a difference.” He said, looking at the ground.

“You’re a deeply mistrusting person and I respect that, but everyone deserves a chance. Have I done anything to make you mistrust me?” You finally looked into his crimson eyes. They were beautiful. Shiny like rubies and a deep crimson like blood.

“You punched me in the face.” He said, meeting your gaze.

“You deserved to be punched in the face.” You said, starting to wrap the gauze around his torso and shoulder.

“Perhaps.” He conceded.

You noticed a small cut to his cheekbone. Raising your hand, you ran your thumb under it. You grabbed the cloth you used to clean his wound and brought it to his cheek, dabbing softly at the dried blood. He caught your wrist in a soft grasp. You looked at each other, neither moving. The air around you felt thick. Thankful for the dim light from the bonfire, you were sure you were blushing unintentionally. Astarion softly pressed a delicate kiss to your wrist.

“Thank you for helping me, it was very kind.” He sounded so sincere. You smiled and thumbed over his cheek one last time before pulling your hand back to yourself.

The more you looked at him the more you noticed his sunken eyes, his slim cheeks, the aches that plagued him.

Hungry

You jumped back a little not expecting to hear voices and feel a wriggle in your head. Astarion’s eyes flitted to yours, “You’re hungry aren’t you?” You asked in a whisper.

“I didn’t drink as much as I would have hoped to… the bear apparently didn’t like fangs in it.” He said, gesturing to the bandaged gash.

You pondered it for a moment. On one hand, he had been a massive cunt to you since you arrived and had punched him a few hours ago. On the other hand, he just let you patch him up and even thanked you for it.

“If you want… you could feed off me? If it would help?” You asked, looking between his eyes and the ground, fingers picking at each other nervously.

“You would do that for me?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“See? I’m not so bad after all.” You smiled as you pulled your laces at the top of your shirt loose revealing your neck, shoulder, and the top of your chest.

He gulped and looked at your beautiful skin. He was hungry but he knew he’d have to repay you. He pulled you to him by your waist, planting you in his lap, straddling his hips. You knew what he was doing, what he was thinking.

“Astarion, stop. You don’t have to do anything. You don’t owe me… I’m doing this because I want to help you.” You said, shifting yourself to sit next to him instead of on him.

He gave you a soft smile, “Apologies. I’m used to giving myself as payment. Old habits die hard I suppose.”

You nodded, knowing his history and not wanting to trudge up bad memories. You leaned against the tree trunk next to your bed roll, exposing your neck to him.

Astarion licked his lips subconsciously. His breath against your neck made you shiver. He kissed the junction between your neck and shoulder before sinking his teeth in. It felt like getting an IV needle shoved into your throat. The pain was quick, the feeling of blood being sucked out of you was what felt odd. Warm fluid being sucked out rapidly. He must have been hungry.

After a minute you gently pushed against his chest. He snapped back to reality, pulling back and resting his head against your shoulder while licking up the little blood that spilled from the punctures. His breath was heavy and so were his eyes.

“That was amazing…” he whispered.

You sat up a bit, pushing Astarion back. “Glad my blood is acceptable.” You joked, pulling your shirt back on properly and tightening the laces.

It was beyond acceptable. It was… heavenly. It was beyond anything he had tasted or smelled before. It tasted sweet. Like the richest chocolate. It coated his tongue and he already wished for more. His gaze was glazed over, perfectly happy. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

You watched him. He was beautiful, truly. The feeling of arousal that shot through you while he drank made you feel awful. You knew his backstory and you knew he was in no position to do anything sexual. You focused on slowing your heartbeat down in hopes he wouldn’t hear it.

He gently took your hand before kissing your wrist again, “Thank you. This was a gift, I won’t forget it.” He nodded before getting up and heading back to his tent. “Goodnight.” You heard him say faintly.

You smiled as you laid down, happy that you two reached a truce. Maybe he needed a bit more care than the others, and you were happy to provide it. You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a certain pale elf.

Hello lovelies! I hope you enjoy this new chapter. I hope to hear from you all in the comments or in my DM's. I really wanna try and write a few drabbles for y'all. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! :)

149 notes · View notes