#no tags we get 3 notes and feel grateful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Text

Safe Keeping | 2

Part 1 2 3

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut (dub con, primal play, PIV, rough sex), emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, canon typical casual misogyny, baby fever, typos, etc.

A/N: you guys, i dont want to edit the summary from p1 so i wont. also for future me here are the asks i got for this fic [x] [x] [x] which is like 🤯 cos i thought id get 5 notes on this tbh HAHAH originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds

I refused to leave my chambers when I woke.

Not only had I cried myself to sleep, but I had woken with puffy eyes and ended up crying all over again. I was glad that my doting handmaiden was so fiercely loyal to me. Lucy didn't think my weeping childish. She was understanding and eternally on my side. I am immensely grateful for it; I don't know what I would have done without her.

She helped me bathe and dress and eat, then entertained me with gossip from the servants. For a while that was enough.

As the day passed though, my thoughts muddled and left me restless. I could not do anything but obsess over the fact my husband left me after wifing me up.

"Do you think he will come back tonight?" I mutter as I stare blankly at my reflection on the mirror.

Lucy ceases combing my hair and takes my chin in her fingers. Paired with a hand on my shoulder, she silently urges me to straighten my back from my seat. I do just that. She smiles at me through the mirror, "my lady, if you wish it, I will look for him and make him come to you."

I release a breath, "don't be ridiculous."

"I am not being ridiculous," she sets the brush down, "I am being serious."

I feel my throat tighten. My lips quiver but I refuse to break down in tears again. I shake my head rapidly, unwilling to speak, for I knew I would crack if I did.

Lucy frowns in concern then kneels down on my side, grabbing my hand, "my lady, I would die for you."

I screw my eyes shut and break into a whine, "please-"

"I owe you my life," she clasps my hand with hers and brings it to her cheek, "you freed me from my chains. You clothed me, fed me, and showed me kindness none of my masters have ever shown me before," she looks up at me with a solemn expression then repeats, "I would die for you."

I shake my head and lean into her, "live for me, Lucy. I've forgotten what's it was like before you and I don't want to remember."

She kisses my hand and presses her forehead on mine before standing, "I shall do as you command."

She stands behind me and gathers my hair back. She strokes my locks and offers me a smile through the mirror once more. I smile back at her this time around.

The comfort she offers me finally seeps through me as she massages my shoulders.

"I pray the gods will swiftly bless me with a child so that I will have other things to do than await my husband so helplessly and forlorn."

"Well, you said that he pleasured you," Lucy tilts her head, "women who have not been pleasured still bea-

Lucy is cut off by the crashing open of the door. She and I both whip back, hearts in our mouths as we stare at our Lord Clegane, who was staring right back at us.

"What's wrong with you?" he demands. The metal of his armor clanks. I eye the one Lucy tidied to the side, the one I undid the night before, and turn back to him. His brown eyes look at me with such intense accusation.

I feel my hands tremble. I cannot for the life of me find the words to speak.

What did he even mean? How could he ask me this?

"No one has seen you all day," he says, "have you not left this room once?'

"She 'asn't," Lucy snaps, "milady has been feeling-"

"I wasn't talking to you, wench," the Hound does not turn to her when he says this. His eyes are very much still fixed on me, "I'm talking to my wife."

My wife. I look away. That's right, all that I am now is forfeit to him.

I gasp and turn back when I hear him marching over. Lucy places a protective hand on my shoulder and I find myself cowering into her touch. I clench my jaw and gulp when he stops in front of me.

He gazes upon me for the longest second of my life. He furrows his brows, "what's wrong with your fa-"

I flinch when he reaches out to my cheek.

Instantaneously, Lucy tightens her grip on me and blocks him, and Sandor cuts himself off and recoils before he can even touch my skin. He steps a few paces back then clenches his hand as if he'd gotten burnt.

We both evade each other's gaze. Sandor's eyes finally land on Lucy, "has she been crying?"

Lucy's blood boils. She hisses, "yes," then harshly pronounces, "milord."

Sandor turns away and twitches. He rolls his shoulders back and stretches his hands. He knocks on his chest plate. He looks to no one when he asks, "are you hurt?"

Lucy takes no care in masking her scoff or sigh. I take her arm and she watches me shake my head disapprovingly.

I do not look at anyone when I reply either, "I cannot say I'm not... lord husband."

A thick silence builds in the room within a moment.

When I dare too look at the Hound, he is already looking at me and suddenly speaks, "leave us, wench."

I turn to Lucy. She does not move an inch.

I give her an urging shake, but she is steadfast in her spot. Our Lord Clegane turns to her and grinds his teeth, "you will find I do not make habit of repeating myself."

I shoot up from my seat when Lucy presses forward and quips, "and you will find that I will not allow you to treat milady like this."

"Lucy!" I admonish, yanking her back.

Lucy glares daggers at him as I attempt to pacify and persuade her to leave us. Her eyes do not leave him as I sweep her out the room. I instruct her to walk around the gardens for a while then close the door after.

I press my back against the wooden surface as I look back to the man I was now alone with.

Sandor watches me expectantly. I do not say a word, for I did not know what he wanted to hear.

He finally breaks the silence, "you walk well enough."

I am dumbfounded by his choice of words. I dare not respond when I feel my lips quiver; instead, I nod quickly.

Sandor deeply furrows his brows. He shifts on his spot and chances a step in my direction, "why didn't you come out your room then?"

I lick my lips and shake my head. I turn away from him and mutter, "do I appear like I am in the state to be walking around when I look like this?"

"Like what?" he draws nearer.

I whip my head, "THIS!"

Sandor stops in his tracks. He looks at me, expressionless, "this what?"

I scoff in disbelief, feeling tears immediately soak my face. I whisper, "look at me."

"I am, with both eyes."

"And you see nothing?" I mutter shakily, "feel nothing?'

"Should I feel something?"

My chest sinks; it feels like it's caving in. He might as well gut me and spit on my bones. I turn to my feet and wipe my cheeks, "no. I suppose not."

Sandor curses under his breath. He rips at his collar, suddenly feeling his armour weigh down on him. He feels unbelievably hot. He clears his throat, "it hurts."

I look up at him.

"It hurts the first time, usually," he clarifies, "or in times you're not wet enough." He nods, "you were wet enough."

My entire being burns at his words, at his nonchalance. My face is searing in embarrassment and shame.

I want to scream at him, want to hurtle into him and demand to know why he left me, why he was so removed, but then I find the answers in my head. It dawns on me that he acted carelessly because he didn't care. He didn't want this. He didn't want me. All of it was forced. And so I hold my tongue.

Instead, I calmly explain, "my hurt is not bodily, Sandor."

Sandor's stomach rolls at the sound of his name.

"I was," I turn to space between us, "hurt that you left me. And-" I shake my head as tears rush from my eyes, "I've realized now that it's wrong of me to be."

I put a brave face on in spite of my weeping and hold his stare. The man is as stoic and hard as ever. I scoff at myself for feeling this way.

"Worry no longer, Hound," I open the door, "I will not cause you trouble again."

I step back and make way for him to exit.

He looks at me for what feels like an eternity then marches out the door.

"And have you-"

Lucy and I gasp and turn at once.

"-named it yet, Lady Clegane?"

I chuckle guilty, "Lord Varys."

The man nods to me in regard, "good morrow to you."

I curtsy to him, as does my handmaiden. Lucy lifts her skirt as inconspicuously as possible in hopes to block what was behind her.

Varys catches this and waves his hands, "there be no need for that, my dear. The stray is an obedient one, isn't it?"

I share a look with Lucy before we step back and reveal the dog behind us. Daisy was panting and wagging her tail. She had her front paw bent, for it had been broken and healed that way. I had a maester examine it. In the end, he said it was pointless to put a split because it would not fix her leg and Daisy just kept chewing it anyway.

Daisy closes her mouth and sniffs the man.

"Ah," Varys smiles at the creature, "may I pet it?"

Lucy nods and eagerly explains, "she's Daisy; she is incredibly sweet, milord."

Varys cheerfully scratches the crown of the dog's head.

Though he laughs, my own face contorts into an opposite expression, "please make no note of it to my husband."

Varys looks at me exaggeratedly, as though he was offended.

I continue, "she makes me happy."

"One does not need to be told that to know," he presses his lips together. He links his hands, "I imagine you must be rather heavyhearted since the arrival of your womanly bleeding."

I drop my gaze upon hearing this. The master of whispers truly knew all. Lucy turns to me, then back to him, "milord, it's not proper to mention these things."

Varys measures my reaction before turning to Lucy, "yes. I suppose one such as myself has no business speaking of such things." He raises a finger, "still, if you should ever need assistance with that or your stray, know that my services are available to you, my lady."

I smile at him and nod, "I thank you for it, Lord Varys."

With that, he walks away.

"Do you think he will tell him?" Lucy asks as she grabs my arm.

I sigh and turn Daisy.

I've only had her for few days but she's given me purpose. I named her Daisy because she turned up from a bush of daisies while I read in the gardens. I was shocked, puzzled with how she got there, and a little scared she would bite me. When I noticed her injury, I figured she must be very weak and offered her food. She had my heart the moment she licked my fingers.

It was fate, I figured. I had not read in the gardens since the Hound berated me for it, and she came out of nowhere. When I imagine what would have happened to her if anyone else found her, I dread to think of the fact she could have been struck dead. The gods must have sent her to me, to remedy my sorrow and fill in for the absence of my Hound.

I was meant to save Daisy, and she was meant to save me.

I shake my head, "I'll have someone keep her tonight."

The Hound stops in his tracks when he witnesses what he does from afar. A blazing fury engulfs him as he watches two women walk away. The guard, who was spoken to, ogle their figures as they did.

Sandor laughs under his breath, but of course, nothing about this situation was funny to him.

He immediately charges when the guard is left alone, stupidly attending to an open crate-- he'll fucking bash it into his skull.

The guard goes back to his post and spots the approaching giant. At first, he is unfazed by the Hound but fear quickly finds him when he realizes he was heading straight for him.

He does not speak. The Hound simply grabs him by the chest plate, lifts him up and slams him on to the stone wall. He was angry-- worse, he was irrational.

"Why was she speaking to you?!" he snaps, "what business do you have with her?!"

The guard does not waste a second in spilling his guts, "Lady Clegane paid me to watch her dog!" He sounded like he was about to piss his pants.

"What?!" he seethes.

"The crate! The crate! There's a dog in the crate!"

Sandor shoves him away and walks toward the crate. Lo and behold, the Hound sees the mutt, fur a light shade of brown, tongue out as it pant, right arm curled up.

He draws his sword.

Lucy and I head back to my chambers after eating supper. Our chattering is abruptly cut when he step in and see the Hound's hulking figure.

To say I am shocked is an understatement. I am terrified. He has not come to my chambers since the day after our wedding night, and now, here he was after Lord Varys confronted me. I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat, "my lord, I-"

"Don't you have one too many dogs now?" he growls.

Lucy is unable to hide the sound that leaves her mouth. My eyes begin to water as trepidation rips up my neck. I whisper, "Sandor."

Sandor flinches. He huffs, "what were you doing with it? You playing dolls with it, girl?"

"I saved her!" I explain with a shaky voice. "I fed her, gave her water-"

"Its leg is broken. You keep it in a crate. It's mercy for me to kill it."

Lucy gasps. My stomach drops and I run up to him, "no. Please. Please, tell me you didn't-"

I start when I see something move on the bed. I let out a shaky breath when a bark echoes in the room. I had never been more relieved to see Daisy than now.

Sandor growls, "OFF!" He marches to the bed and charges at the her. I shriek and grab his arm, holding him back. Of course, I nearly shoot forward for what was my strength against his? Still, he turns back to me and huffs. Daisy jumps down the bed and comes to my side.

Lucy grabs her and leads her to the corner of the room.

I continue to beg, "please, don't kill her. Please, I beg of you."

"You pay the guards to watch the mutt," Sandor yanks his arm away; the action hurts my hand. He seethes, "you're better off selling the bitch to a butcher as pig food."

I wail, "it was only this time! I have kept her with me since before." I drop to my knees, "please, I will ask nothing more of you," hot tears burn down all the way down to my chest. "I beg that you just let her live."

Sandor steps back and looks down at me. I can see how pathetic he thinks I am at this moment, and yet I find myself unable to care.

"You will ask me nothing more, aye?" he scoffs. His lips curl, "don't you want a child?"

My expression drops.

"You would rather save the bitch than have a babe?"

I am unable to speak.

Why is he doing this to me?

"Well?!" he demands.

I screw my eyes shut when some of his spit sputters to my face. I turn to the floor, "she's been keeping me company in your absence. She's-"

"Ah, so that's why she feels so comfortable on the bed. You sleep with her."

I look up at him, about to explain that she sleeps on the floor and has never done that before. I do not have the chance.

"Well then keep your stray," he scoffs, "and have it fuck a babe into you."

The Hound storms off right after.

He grips his hand and his hilt as he marches away.

He should have killed it, he shouldn't have hesitated. The only reason he did was because it didn't flinch at his sword. The mutt was so dumb it had no fear. It even propped on the crate and tried sniffing the steel. Brainless.

His insides feel like they were boiling.

He knew the little girl would weep if he killed it, yet he didn't and there were tears anyway. He curses loudly. It reverberates in the hall.

He should have killed it.

Now it was too late.

"I see you make friends even with stray cats now, my lady."

I look over my shoulder after the cat I was petting runs off because of the voice. Lord Baelish comes up to me, sparing a quick glance to the orange feline that jumped down the wall. He turns back to me with a smile, "pardon me, Lady Clegane, I did not mean to frighten the kitty."

I shake my head, returning a soft smile. I wrap my arms around myself, still not entirely used to the light fabric and freeness of the dresses I've been wearing lately, "it's alright, my lord. The cats do not like people."

Baelish walks in front of me and smiles wider, "they must see you their goddess then."

I shake my head and give a soft chuckle.

"Where is your hound?" he asks.

I stiffen.

He clarifies, "I mean the one with the broken leg."

I release a breath and look out to the view, "I had my handmaiden bathe her."

"Mmm," Baelish looks out to the view with me, "thus why you sought the cats."

A breeze brushes past us.

I do not turn to him, but I know he turns to me. He speaks, "one such as you should not be left alone or unaccompanied."

"Why? Would you hurt me, Lord Baelish?"

He chuckles, "and risk getting mauled by the Hound? I would not."

I watch as a flock of birds fly overhead.

"Other things perhaps," he says.

I do not respond to him.

A moment passes with nothing but looking and silence.

I feel his hot breath when he sighs deeply, "I remember clearly the day I first met you."

Baelish speaks my first name and it's enough to finally make me to turn to him. In truth, my name sounds foreign to me. Who I was has been long overshadowed by Lady Clegane... or, more accurately, the Hound himself.

"You were a vibrant flower. Your fragrance wafted through the room the moment you stepped in," he says, taking one step closer. "Being around you was a privilege; conversing with you, a prize."

I blink at his words, taking in the lines of his face, "and now," I clasp my hands together, "I've withered away, have I?"

His Baelish-blue eyes appear to be solemn. My lips part when he takes my hands in his. He speaks under his breath, "you are more radiant than ever."

I do not move an inch.

"Take heart," he speaks my name again, "hounds are crushed under heels of goddesses."

I pull away from him and shake my head, "do not speak blasphemy with me."

He laughs, bringing his hands behind him, "ever devout and god-fearing." He raises an arm, "shall we part ways by the stables? I will be heading out of the keep."

I debate for a moment. Ultimately, I offer polite smile and decide to agree.

We walk with no sense of urgency. I never knew Petyr to be one for small talk, and so I am surprised that he asks me about my dresses. In truth, I really shouldn't have been.

"Your dresses are Dornish, are they not?" he raises a brow.

"Dornish-like," I clarify, "it was my usual tailor that made my new dresses. I feared if I asked a Dornish tailor for a modest silhouette, I'd be colder than I am now."

We share a soft laugh.

He shrugs, "the style suits you still," he smiles. "Undoubtedly, the Dornes would love to dress you in their more traditional clothing."

I purse my lips and raise my brows, "wouldn't you like that, Petyr?"

He chuckles, slightly in disbelief by the casual referral. He raises his hands, "I said the Dornes. I am not Dornish, my dear."

When we reach the stables, I stop in my tracks, not because we're about to depart, but because his words freeze me in my spot.

"Surely, our Lord Clegane finds it hard to keep his hands off you."

I do my best to stay neutral, to not give myself away. Baelish holds back a smirk.

"Wouldn't you like to know what me and Lord Clegane get up to?"

Baelish laughs, "if I'm being honest, I do."

I roll my eyes at him and nod dismissively, "farewell, my lord."

He nods back with a chuckles, "and you, my lady."

I promptly head to my chambers after this. As I walk on, however, I remember that another day has passed with me not seeing Lord Clegane. I am unsure if it was deliberate or coincidental, but it was the fact either way.

It had been a handful of days since my monthly bleeding passed. I was never a regular bleeder, and when it came this time around, it stayed longer than usual. I was glad with his absence then, in not needing to explain myself to my him. The moment it had finished, however, I expected I would at least see him once.

I did not.

This lead to my decision to be more... seductive.

And, well yes, or course, he yelled at me and told me to have my bitch fuck me instead-- truly, there was a large pit of dread in my stomach because of this, but people say a lot of things in anger, things they don't mean. He could not have meant that.

I rub my belly, willing the dread away.

I refuse to believe he meant that.

I suck in a breath and decide to head to the king's chambers.

Besides, I've been assured over and under that men really like making babies.

My breath hitches when I catch sight of the Hound, guarding the door. I see him do a double take when he spots me, and yet he gazes into space in the end.

"Good evening, my lord," I curtsy at him.

He grunts with exasperation, "what are you doing here?"

"I wanted," I measure my words carefully, "to request you not stay out late tonight."

The man turns his head fully to me, "what?"

I feel my throat itch. I clear my throat, "I was hoping that you come to my chambers before too late."

Sandor shifts in his spot. He eyes me up and down. I feel like I am being burned alive under his gaze.

He looks away and shifts back in place.

I open my mouth but I don't get to speak at all.

"Dog. Dog! Come inside, I-" King Joffrey calls but then ceases when he steps out of the room and sees me.

I immediately curtsy, "my king. Good evening."

Joffrey raises a brow and demands to know why I'm here, referring to me by the house I was born into.

I offer him a smile, "I wanted to speak to my lord husband, your grace."

His face contorts in deep bewilderment. He opens his mouth and raises a finger, "why would you come h-" he turns to the Hound and stops himself. He breaks into a laugh. He laughs so hard that he clutches his stomach, "oh!" He wheezes, "oh, I've forgotten about that!"

King Joffrey calms down with a sigh. He from to his Kingsguard then to me, eyeing my attire. He chuckles under his breath as his eyes rake me down, "I see your wife has dressed to seduce you, dog." His looks up to my face, "or wouldn't that make you bitch?"

I do not respond for a moment, put on the spot by his malice, but then my wits finally meet me. I curtsy to the king, "I am what my king makes me to be."

Joffrey laughs airily. He shakes his head, "my, dog," he turns to his guard, "I've truly matched you well," he pats his shoulder plate, "too well, in fact."

He then retreats into his chambers, calling out as he did, "you're dismissed, dog. Breed your bitch as you like."

The door slams shut.

I release a breath once the king leaves, clutching my belly as I did so.

Sandor does not move an inch from his spot. He does not look at me.

I begin to get nervous all over again. I try, "husband?"

"You think I'll answer to your whistle just because you're dressed like a whore?"

My face hardens. I look away from him. I mean I expected as much.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "I only wanted to please you-"

He scoffs.

I look back at him, "I will dress more modestly if it is what you'd like."

"I'd like not to see you whoring around."

I am unable to withhold my scoff, "I am what my lord makes me out to be."

The Hound finally spares me a glance. I glare at him as I curtsy, "apologies for the impertinence." I turn on my heels and walk away. My anger and vexation gets the best of me. I cannot help but jeer, "if my dress angers you so, take it off me then."

Sandor shifts on his spot.

I continue down the hall.

His lips curl as he growls lowly, "run."

I do not hear anything but my own grumbling.

"Run, little girl!" he barks, making me jolt and turn back to him with a scowl. The irritation is apparent in my face as I stop at the end of the hall, "what?"

The Hound begins to march over. My heart races as I hear him warn, "run, if you know what's good for you"

I begin to shuffle back.

"I'll tear that shit off your body when I catch you."

I break into a sprint at the sound of his threat.

I don't look back. I heave heavily as I rush down the halls. I don't hear him chasing after me, though once I'm far, I see him treading fast as the times he's dragged me by the arm. My stomach flurries with anxiousness and regret.

When I reach my chambers, I mentally debate whether or not I should lock the door. I gulp at the idea of him breaking it down. I decide I do not want a memory such as that to be branded into my brain.

I gasp when he bursts into the room. I grip my skirts from the edge of the bed where where I sat.

The Hound locks the door before walking over to me. He grabs my shoulders and shoves me down on my belly.

I squeak when he grabs my skirts and rips it all the way up my ribs. He scoffs, "fucking parchment."

I hear him grab something by my vanity. I do not dare to look at him. I proceed to hear him undo his armor and his clothes.

I hear a pop. I yelp when he grabs my smallclothes and yanks them down. I groan into the cushions when I feel his fingers toy with my folds.

"Don' fink you nee' vis," he speaks like something was in his mouth. He pulls his hand away and suddenly the smell of my lavender oil assaults my senses. I hear a squelch. Something is thrown to my side; it's my vial.

I squeak when he grabs my hips. He sighs, "you're ready on your own." We both make noises when he begins to thrust into me. The Hound growls, "little girl likes to be chased."

I am shoved into the cushions. My entire body tenses.

"You want to dress like a whore," he taunts, "I'll fuck you like a whore."

His tempo is brutal and harsh. He does not relent or give me leeway. It's strange and shameful that my body even feels tingles of pleasure.

I cannot help the screams that rip out of my throat. Had I not been faced down on the cushion, I fear that I would have woken the dead.

I call out his name when he hoists my hips up. My toes could no longer touch the floor. He begins moving faster. My hands dig into the sheets. I feel my eyes water.

The Hound howls. He shoves me down and suddenly my feet are on the ground. He plunges deep, it makes my eyes roll back. His thrusts become increasingly irregular and after with a few more slaps, he stops.

I catch my breath, thanking the gods he's shown mercy.

I whine when I feel him pull away. I gulp and shift on my spot. I anticipate his next movements. I hear a rustle. I lift my head up and look back at him, confused by the sight of him tying himself up.

Was... was it done?

"Don't think to have that dress mended, girl," he pants as he grabs something from the floor. I roll on my back, feeling uneasy because of the wetness between my thighs. I watch him unlock the door and slam the door on his way out.

All hells were breaking loose. King's Landing was under attack, the castle was on fire, and Stannis Baratheon was winning.

All the women and children holed up in the queen's retreat chamber spilled out to gods know where.

My mind was racing, yet all I could think was: run, flee, Lucy, Daisy, Hound.

I was already running. I was already fleeing. I was doing both with Lucy in my grip. I had Lucy, but I did not have Daisy.

We were running up to my chambers. I left Daisy there, my poor Daisy. We were fleeing up the stairs in haste, sparing no time to catch a breath.

I had no idea what we were to do. We could bar the door, block it with our bed. Lucy and I could manage it, I think. Was it a good idea? Would it guarantee our safety? There was only one way we'd know.

I quickly open the door and lock it once Lucy and I are inside.

We take a moment to finally catch our breath. Lucy grabs my arms and I grab hers. I can feel her shaking. I rub her skin, "it will be alright. No harm will reach us here."

Lucy shakes her head, "milday, you and me both know that's not true."

My heart shatters when I catch the way her eyes water. "Shhh," I pull her into a hug, "have I ever failed you, Lucy?"

She seals her arms around me and whispers, "no."

"Nothing will happen to us," I rub her back, "I will protect you."

"And I, you," she pulls away, "as will Daisy," she wipes her tears before they fall, "and the 'ound."

We scream when we hear a voice in the room. We press our back against the wall and turn to the bed. A figure is sat on the floor by its side. What was said was, "your mutt is stupid."

Lucy and I clutch each other for dear life. I recognized that voice. I muster the courage to tiptoe towards the figure and breathe out shakily when I confirm the presence, "Sandor?"

The man turns to me as we walk up to him. Sandor had Daisy on his lap. She looked up and blinked at me before closing her eyes. She was being pet a bloody hand and did not mind at all.

"She was jumped on me when I walked in. She looked excited," he turns to Daisy, "stupid bitch. Anyone else would have chopped her up."

I find myself releasing a breath of relief. Here now was Daisy, and Hound. I had nothing left to think about.

I walk up to him, kneeling on his side. He turns to me. I examine his face, dirtied and bloodied, "are you hurt?"

He looks at me for a moment. I watch him slowly raise his hand. He cautiously touches my cheek. I clutch his wrist in my hands. He swipes his thumb on my skin, "save your tears." I didn't even know I shed them. "None of the fuckers got close enough to try."

He draws his hand back. He grunts as he gets to his feet. Daisy moves back, wobbling on her three legs; I move back too.

"Take your valuables," the Hound grunts, "we're fucking leaving."

I pull my head back. I watch the man survey the room.

Lucy runs up to my side and she wipes my cheek with her skirt. She watches the red collect on the fabric and wonders who it belonged to. She wagers it's not from her lord.

I shake my head in confusion as Sandor grabs a satchel and stuffs my jewelry in it, "I don't understand. Aren't you going to fight?"

"Fuck the fight," he quips as he shoves objects down and raids through the drawers and closets.

Lucy finishes wiping my face. I walk off and grab all my hidden pouches of gold. I hand it to Sandor, "what about the king?"

"Fuck the king," he takes the pouches and stuffs it into the bag, "fuck him especially."

Sandor then chucks the satchel to Lucy, who grunts when she catches it.

"The stupid fuck's done nothing but fuck around," he picks up Daisy, propping her front legs on his shoulder, "no good thing's come from that fuck." He takes me by the hand and mumbles, " 'cept for one."

He releases me only to unlock the door and hold me again. He does not let me go until we reach the outside of the keep.

The whole lot was in disarray; dead bodies, debris, and fire littered the scene. He hands me Daisy, and I struggle slightly to carry her, considering she was not a small breed. He walks not too far off and brings a wandering horse over.

It's a wonder we do not encounter anyone on this side of the castle, more so that we find a horse.

Sandor takes Daisy and puts her down before helping me mount the steed. My stomach rolls with how his touch lingered on my thigh once I was on.

Next, he took the satchel from Lucy and handed it to me. He then eyed her when she stepped forward, as if debating whether or not he wanted to bring her along. Before she or I could speak up about it, Sandor is already helping her climb up behind me. Lucy takes the satchel from me and eyes him after. He rolls his eyes.

He picked up Daisy and tried handing her to me. However, she struggled too much and could not fit in my arms, so he cursed and threw her back onto his shoulders. He grabbed the horse's reins and started walking.

"Fucking bitch, fucking wench, fucking horse, fucking war, fucking-"

1K notes · View notes

boytearscore · 1 month

Text

why can’t i hate you?— matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead.

author’s notes: it’s a love triangle? yes, but it also has enemies to lovers and lots of nick being a sassy king, so give it a chance, yeah? anyway, for now, just releasing the first chapter and if you guys enjoy it, i’ll keep writing. that’s it, girls! have fun. :)

tag list: @sleepysturniolo (the first person to join my tag list, i’ll always be grateful to you. <3)

chapter one.

the fact that you didn’t get along with matthew was not just a rumor around his fans, it was indeed the truth. you both never talked, not even on videos you’ve participated in with him and his brothers, which are the closest people to you ever since you moved to LA, so avoiding him was impossible as all you did besides working was hangout with them.

that night, chris and nick invited you for a sleepover, since you were away for two weeks and both of them missed you a lot. it started smoothly, you guys had snacks, junk food and soda. all three just chatting and laughing, matt didn’t leave his room the whole time, which you weren’t complaining, but right after you laugh out loud about something stupid nick said, matt comes out of his room and sees you there, laying on the couch, he groans and goes back to his room, slamming the door.

“there he goes.” you roll your eyes shoving another chip in your mouth and sighing. “seriously, what’s his problem?” you ask chris and nick with a serious look, nick just gives you a small shrug as he takes a sip of his soda.

“going through puberty again at the age of 21? i dont know, dude.”

“whatever.” you murmur, not wanting to talk much about that asshole. he was so hard to read and hated you since day one with no plausible reason. so you started hating him back, simple as that, just mirroring the hatred he gave to you.

chris just shrugs as well and place a leg over yours, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “ignore him, he’s always like that.”

“getting touchy, are we?” you joke, laying your head on chris’s shoulders and trying to change the subject as soon as possible. he just chuckled, blushing a tiny bit. the poor boy quickly tries to hide it by covering his face with his hands and laughing.

nick rolled his eyes at his brother’s blushed face, he was used to see you both being physically close but he couldn’t keep his comments for himself. he’s always saying you’re clingy with people you loved and that chris was even worse than you.

“get a room, you two.“ he grabs his phone and starts playing a game. “and chris, you should stop. it’s getting embarrassing for you, just tell her you crush hard.”

“oh…” you smirk at the boy hugging you and poke him on the nose. “is that so?”

chris’s cheeks were now tinted with rosy pink, he was even more embarrassed because he’d rather die than face his own feelings for you. nick just started laughing loudly, still focused on his phone.

“can you guys keep it down?” you hear a yell from matthew’s room, making you stare at chris and nick, they both had the same expression as you and after two seconds trying to hold a laugh, all three of you just lost it.

“he’s going through puberty and acting like a 60 years old at the same time, like dude, just pick a struggle.” nick whispers, you guys laugh even harder and the door suddenly cracks open, matthew was poking his head out of his doorway looking at you, he seemed pretty pissed off but instead of making you feel uncomfortable, you actually had the urge to bother him more.

“hey, guys! c’mon, have some compassion, little matthew here is not used to human interactions, this is probably scary for him.” you can’t help but tease, it’s been always like this. you couldn’t hold your tongue when it comes to annoying matt, knowing damn well he hates your guts.

nick started to howl with laughter, his whole body reacted which makes him fall off the couch, he was always so dramatic. you and chris widen your eyes, but not for the same reason. what made yours almost pop out of your face was the loud noise of a door closing and heavy steps getting closer. matthew just stomped out of his room, right up to you, his eyes darkened with rage, his face all flushed from anger, and it didn’t help he decided to stand incredibly close, towering you.

okay, that was unusual. he never really engaged your mocking tone besides some comebacks which usually lead to more teasing until eventually he just starts ignoring you. but now he’s standing right there, as a matter of fact, almost inches away, this is probably your first time staring at him up close, even being able to smell his perfume.

something inside you wants to run away, you don’t know what to do with your heartbeats racing, but of course, you could never let him notice. so you stare right back at him, crossing your arms. “that’s the closest you’ve been to a girl, isn’t it?” nick place a hand over his mouth trying to hide a really loud laugh from your comment, still on the floor for some reason.

matthew’s face somehow got even redder from your comeback and chris now sits up straight, watching carefully the two of you.

“yeah, no girls would ever come near me, right?” he said it in a sarcastic tone as he leans a bit more into your face, trying to intimidate you, but it wasn’t working at all. you weren’t the type to feel threatened by men, by anyone, actually.

“unless they need a loser to friendzone.” well, that was a little mean, even for you. but to be fair, you didn’t know how to handle the new emotion of being face to face with him. it wasn’t exactly scary, but definitely a new kind of interaction, so the thoughts were sort of going all places, despite that, you stayed collected and not raised your voice once, matthew on the other hand, wasn’t even trying to hide anything, you could see a small twitch in his face and his lips trembling. he was definitely acting by impulse, which you weren’t sure of but his next move just confirmed that.

he leaned in even closer, still towering over your seated figure making you smile ironically. not so hard to read from up close, huh?

“what did you say to me?”

nick was still laughing, not being able to even breathe properly while chris just watches you and matt, getting a bit nervous. he ponders if he should interfere, things never got this far before.

“i’m not repeating myself.” because your faces were so close, you could see every little reaction, the way his blue eyes were telling you so many things at the same time, every sparkle of anger shooting fire at you, even his body language slowly changing. that made you smile even more, noticing a little part of you enjoying it way too much.

you words affected him again, it looks like he was determined to shut your mouth by invading your personal space, so he once again, leaned even closer nearly brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“i’ve had enough of your sassy ass comments.” his warm breath hits your face, making you shiver. your arms still crossed across your chest and unbothered expression painting your face.

“then why don’t you back off and go to your room? it’s what you usually do, isn't it? run away when you don’t know what to say.”

he clenched his jaw tightly, as his hands ball up into tight fists, you could see veins starting to pop up, as he was getting more pissed. but he doesn’t back off, in fact, he starts to lean in a bit closer, the space between you two starting to shrink little by little every second.

“oh please, i’d much rather talk to you.”

nick immediately stops laughing as he gets up from the floor, almost as if he wanted to say something. chris raises an eyebrow, he was about to put a stop on that situation.

“trust me.” you smirk, he was challenging you, it was also pretty fun to see matt get so worked up over a few tease words, yet for a second, you thought about letting it go, take a step back and not make the atmosphere awkward for nick and chris. but the tension was… stirring. the idea of getting this type of reaction from him without doing much was actually weirdly good. so you allow your demons to control your actions, loosening one of your crossed arms and bringing a hand to his chin, gently turning his head slightly to the side, just enough to reach your lips to his ear.

“i know you love talking to me.” from the moment you spoke into his ear, a shiver ran down his spine making him subconsciously close his eyes, letting out a small exhale from the feeling of your breath on his ear.

nick’s eyes are wide, he can’t believe this was actually happening in front of him. chris just bite his lips trying hard to control himself. the room is quiet, matthew swallows hard, as he slowly open his eyes, looking down at you. he wanted to say something, he really did, but words failed him. his face was now really hot both from anger and fluster, the warmth of your hand holding his chin, your voice, your breath on his skin, the words you whispered into his ear, which had echoed through his mind. it was all he could focus on, nothing else mattered right now and to make things worse, this was entirely his doing, so he couldn't blame you or anyone else.

chris notices the look on his brother's face and he had to admit, it was a bit unsettling to see matthew so flustered over you.

nick was smirking, though. he knew about the tension between you two a long time ago and although it was expected that matthew would react one day, never in a million years he thought that it’d actually go like this.

everyone is still in complete silence, the only thing you could hear was the sound of matt’s shaky breath. he slowly looked over the couch, noticing that chris and nick were both watching everything, then he looked back down at you, having a sudden epiphany. he never really saw your face from that distance, deep down he thought you were pretty, but this was his first time actually being able to see the colour of your eyes properly, your nose and of course... he drift his eyes down to your lips, they were seductive and very… tempting?

a very dangerous thought crosses his mind and before he could resist, he moved closer, the small space between you both quickly closing in.

holy shit. you think to yourself, holding in your breath. was matthew really doing it? was he… about to kiss you?

for the first time ever nervousness hits you, but there’s not even a chance you would lose this match, so you don’t move an inch and stare right back at his lips, hand still placed on his chin.

“what the fuck?!”

both chris and nick finally yell, they didn’t know if they should laugh or freak out, more like nick laughing his ass off and chris freaking out, but that’s not the point, this situation was rather ridiculous, you two never set a foot close, not even greeting politely every time you hangout at their house or when they force matthew to drive you three around, as he’s the only one with a license and paying an uber was too bothersome. anyway, there was never an interaction besides bickering. but suddenly, you were both having an argument filled with sexual tension and now matthew is about to kiss you? that was too much for them to handle, for all of you to handle, actually.

matt is not listening to anyone, he ignores his brothers yelling, his eyes were only on you as he was about to do something he’s never thought about doing before. he wanted to kiss you? no. he shouldn’t. he despised you for a lot of reasons, but suddenly, in this moment, it’s almost like he couldn’t remember a single one. his eyes dart between your eyes, and lips, both getting closer by the second, just as his lips are about to brush against yours, he freezes, realizing what he’s doing. the boy takes a small step back from you, his whole face going red and this time not from anger. he glances at his brothers shocked faces and curses at himself, it felt like he lost control for the first time and he hated it.

matt never loses his cool because of your stupid teasing tone, but what is this now? you got the best of him and his first instinct is to kiss you? that was too much for him to process, so he abruptly goes back to his room and shuts his door locking it as if that was going to block the thoughts of you in his head.

“well… that was new.” you say, still confused with the whole situation that just happened, but you weren’t the only one. his brothers were speechless, they were not expecting that at all. like said before, nick did expected a reaction, but definitely not that type of reaction.

both of them had bugged eyes and their mouths partly open in shock from what they just witnessed, still staring at the ghost of matthew in front of your face. after a minute, nick finally breaks the silence.

“am i tripping or he was about to kiss you?”

he asks, mouth still open in a dramatic way.

“yep, he was definitely about to kiss her.” chris replies, his tone is quiet but he seemed a bit annoyed.

“so i wasn’t hallucinating, right?” you ask, still trying to control your heart. the sensation of his breath against your face and his perfume still all over you not helping. “did i tease him too much?” you ask them, even though it was rhetorical. “like, to the point where i broke him and he just… lost it?” nick laughs from your question, shaking his head.

“more like teased him so much he wanted to pin you against the nearest wall and—“

“nick!” you and chris yell at the same time.

“what? i’m just being honest!”

you shake your head with the thought of what nick just said, this was matthew you were talking about, the guy that hated you since day one for no reason, the one who says mean things out of nowhere and gives you dirty looks randomly. oh, let’s not forget about the day he said on a podcast he would rather die when the host asked him jokingly if he was secretly into you.

“you’re being crazy.” you finally reply, trying hard to deny whatever you are feeling and nick laughs again, then rolls his eyes a bit.

“please, i saw the look on his face when he was close to you, no one can’t deny it. the amount of time you both spend teasing each other, not to mention the childish fights ever since you two met clearly did something to his brain. i’m pretty sure he secretly got a thing for you.”

chris was quiet, he had a lot in his mind.

“yeah, it’s called hate.” you say giving the same eye roll back to nick and he just laughs again. this whole time he was just laughing, having the best day of his life.

“have you been reading those gays enemies to lovers books again?” you tilt a brow, hoping he couldn’t notice the way you were trying to drop the matter. “seriously, that’s not how it works in real life, nick.”

the boy rolls his eyes and scoffs. “pfft, you’re funny. i didn’t even know what that meant before we made those fanfic reaction videos. i would never read something like that for real.”

“you’re telling me if i go through your kindle right now i won’t find a single book about it?” you pretend to get up, smirking and nick’s eyes widen slightly as he swallows hard.

“oh, you wouldn’t dare!”

chris bursts out laughing and throws his head back, feeling better about how things went back to normal so fast, he wanted to forget the earlier event as soon as possible.

“where is it?” you actually get up now, looking around the living room and trying to hide your laugh. nick immediately stares at his kindle sitting on the table in front of the couch and he tries to grab it before you could get to it, but you were faster.

“absolutely not!” he yells, thanking his genes he was stronger and taller than you or things would about to get really embarrassing for him.

“that’s what i thought.” you say with a mocking tone, enjoying the satisfaction of watching nick panicking. chris almost in tears at this point while nick groans and sighs in annoyance, realizing he just exposed himself by acting so defensive.

he just sits back down on the couch, mumbling stuff to himself and hiding the kindle underneath his shirt. chris finally stops laughing and catches his breath meanwhile you make your way back to the couch, catching a glimpse of a portrait hanging on the wall, it was all the three of them smiling and hugging each other dearly. you stare at matthew, noticing how his smile was peaceful. you don’t even think you ever saw him smiling before, not around you, at least.

and then the flashbacks of what just happened minutes ago washes all over your head, making you bite your lips to control any further body reactions. you consider the possibility of going home and cool off. but your best friends are way too smart to be fooled by a shitty excuse, plus it’s been a while since you guys had a sleepover, so you brush the thoughts off and throw yourself on the couch again, grabbing your phone. chris and nick noticed you staring before sitting again, nick look over at the portrait, knowing you were probably thinking about their brother and chris just takes a sip of his pepsi, lost in his own world while nick debated if he should speak or not about that.

“he hasn’t always been like this, you know…” he begins talking with hesitation, he didn’t know if that was the right thing, but it’s about time for you to know the truth.

“sure.” you reply not believing him at all and he just laughed, deciding that he should tell you more.

“your sarcasm is so funny.” he says ironically and then continues talking still staring at the portrait. “believe it or not, he used to smile a lot as a kid. he actually had friends and got along with almost everyone.”

fuck. you always tried your best to change subjects everytime the conversation was about matt, and you usually succeeded but nick was pretty motivated to talk about it this time, maybe trying to help you understand his brother? honestly, if none of that has happened today, you’d probably just make stupid comments about it until nick gives up. but you were curious. the idea of a non grumpy matt was definitely interesting to say at least. you tried to imagine him smiling at other people besides his brothers, having friends and getting along everyone, it seemed unreal. but then again, you never really noticed him before. he could be a fucking clown if he wanted to, you wouldn’t know because you tried your best to avoid contact with the guy all the time.

“really?” you ask, half pretending not to be interested, half not being able to hide your shocked expression. “i thought he was born that way.” you can’t help but joke, that’s your way of coping with uncomfortable situations. “so what happened?” you ask before you could stop yourself, nick sighs and looks at you.

“i guess it started back in middle school. even though he was a quiet kid, most of our classmates liked him. but middle schoolers are fucking mean, you know? some boys would constantly make fun of him because chris and i were extroverts and he wasn’t. we tried our best to protect him, it worked for a while… but then we got to high school, some of our classes were different and one day at lunch break, we couldn’t find him anywhere, we didn’t think too much of it, assuming that he just went home earlier. that was a huge mistake because we always tell each other everything, we shouldn’t have assumed… i shouldn’t have…” he closes his eyes for a second, his voice was tremulous and your face softened, feeling empathy and a little sad. you could tell he blamed himself a lot. “but when chris and i got home, he wasn’t there. we called him multiple times through the rest of the day and by the time it was dark, our parents were about calling the police when he got home with bruises all over his face and swallowed red eyes. we asked him what happened and he just told us to drop it, not wanting to make things worse, we sort of just… let it go.” nick pauses to swallow the knot inside his throat and finally finishes the story he never told anyone about. “after that day he just shut down. he’s still the same around me and chris, but got cold towards other people.”

nick lets out a sigh, you could tell chris didn’t want to talk about it and how nick just stared at a random corner of the living room, probably thinking about matthew. for a while, you get lost in thoughts, debating if you should say something nice or try to light the mood by your typical stupid jokes. and then… you thought about matt, he definitely went through some bad things, which makes you feel guilty for all the teasing, but again, that doesn’t excuse his behaviour and how he treats other people, including you.

“i see…” you finally break the silence. “i guess he’s a bitch with a backstory, huh?”

both chris and nick burst out laughing at your joke, thanking you mentally for not making the sleepover some kind of lame sob parlour.

“he’d kill you if he heard you saying that.” nick says laughing and chris nods his head agreeing, nick continues. “he’d probably haunt you down, kill you, then bury you somewhere in our backyard and pee all over your grave.”

you three laugh loudly, making your tummies hurt.

“oh no, i think i’m done interacting with him today.” your blurt it out without thinking, nick wasn’t stupid, it only took a few seconds before he noticed the way you worded what you said, a small smirk appears on his face.

“so you’re saying you didn’t enjoy him being so close to you like that earlier?”

chris looks back and forth between you and nick, listening to every word and trying to catch any reaction of your face that indicates you actually liked it.

“i’ll ask you a better question.” you reply, trying to avoid answering it by joking around, like always. “one: why didn’t you let me go through your kindle, two: is it enemies to lovers AND smut? be honest.”

nick turns bright red, the question caught him off guard and made chris almost choke on his own soda in disbelief. nick glares back at you, his face still red as he tries to deny it, but then he groans and just gives up.

“fine, i’ll tell you! but no a single soul out of this room can hear about this, alright?” he says quietly, almost as if other people were listening. “can’t let my reputation of being an unbothered gay king be ruined.”

you sigh out of relief, it worked. nick was such a yapper that changing subjects without him noticing was really easy because he was always ready to run his mouth. chris, however, had a hint and noticed your behaviour changing ever since the incident with matt. he wanted to say something, but it wasn’t his place. in fact, he didn’t say a word after what happened. you also noticed he was weirdly quiet, but too much was in your head already.

“what reputation?” you ask to hit a nerve and laughs when he dramatically open his mouth, placing a hand to his chest.

“are you trying to say i’m not a bad bitch?”

chris just bursts out laughing, enjoying watching you tease nick and his dramatic ass reactions.

“not using this exact words, but yes.” you reply, smirk growing in the corner of your lips. the tension of your body was fading away and that made you relax a little. nick’s mouth got even more wide open, he grabs a random pillow from the couch and throws it at you.

“you take that back right now!!” chris laughs even harder at the scene unfolding in front of him, he’s enjoying it too much.

“never!” you laugh out loud, throwing the pillow back at him. “you can’t handle the truth!!!” you try to do an impression of jessup from the movie a few good men, but fails really hard because your voice couldn’t reach the low and strong tone. nick shakes his head cringing painfully and laughing at the terrible impression.

“never do that again!!!” he yells. “that was so bad, actually painful to listen to, a fucking insult to nicholson.”

“shut up.” you rolls your eyes and suddenly they feel really heavy, you can’t help but yawn making nick raise a brow.

“you tired already? you are such an old person, it’s like 10pm and you’re just dying there.”

chris nods his head, agreeing with nick’s words and laughing at your offended facial expression. he secretly wanted you to say with him a little longer. well, with nick as well, of course.

“i need my beauty sleep, bro.” you say, trying to defend yourself knowing deep inside you were in fact like an old person. “if any of you play pranks on me tonight…” you pause and try to do your best scary face. “i’ll expose your deepest secrets to the internet. especially yours, nicolas.”

nick jokingly holds his hands up in surrender, still laughing and chris follows him.

“chill, baby girl! we won’t do anything.” he always called you baby girl ironically to make you cringe on purpose, it always works.

“alright, ladies… i’m going to bed.” you yawn again and head to the guest room were you usually sleep.

nick just rolls his eyes, waving at you. “yeah, whatever. go get your beauty sleep, it’s not gonna work anyways. we’ll be here, definitely not plotting a prank to play on you.”

chris just laughs and murmur a good night to you with his usual sweet smile.

as you enter the room and close the door behind you, reality hits your face like a punch. so, you teased matthew, he teased back as usual, however he also got confrontational, like… physically, which never happened before, and then you teased him more, leading him to almost… it’s even harder to say or come to terms with it.

you throw yourself on the bed, puffing and closing your eyes. the worst part is that you didn’t know what you were feeling. excitement? anger? the need to just shut him up? compassion for what nick told you minutes ago? maybe… desire? no! that’s unlikely.

after a few minutes of fighting your thoughts, you fall asleep hugging a pillow just like you always do when feeling any sort of emotional discomfort.

nick and chris continued to sit on the couch in the living room, watching something on tv and chatting for a while, they tried to avoid the topic of you and matt because nick knew chris had a thing for you and that would just make things awkward. after a while, they started to yawn and both decided it was time to head to bed as well. nick was the first one to get up.

“don’t even think about going to the bathroom right now, it’s my time, good night.” chris nods rolling his eyes, also getting up off the couch, he wasn’t going to the bathroom anyways.

“alright, good night.” nick heads to the bathroom and chris stretches, letting out a small yawn before walking towards the guest room you were staying in, he slowly opens the door, peeking his head in to see if you were asleep. he notices you’re knocked out, holding a pillow tightly in your arms and that makes him smile, but then he notices the look on your face, he knew you for long enough to know when you’re having nightmares. chris slowly walks over, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at you. a small frown appears on his face as he wonders what exactly you were having nightmares about to make you look like that. he reaches his hand out carefully and gently moves a strand of hair from your face, his frown slowly going away as he looks at you. the boy gently pats your cheek, his mind conflicted, debating whether to wake you up or not. he hesitates for a moment, and then decides against it, he didn’t want to disturb your sleep. however, he doesn’t move his hand off your cheek, he just keeps his hand there, gently caressing your soft and warm skin as he continues to stare at you, wondering for a second if this is about his brother.

he notice you starting to relax a bit, the look of pain vanishing away. he can’t help but cogitate the possibility of his presence helping you relax, that makes him stay by your side a little longer, he continues to gently pat your cheek, comforting you in a way.

chris is lost in his thoughts, completely focused on you, ignoring the fact that he’s sitting way too close. he can’t take his eyes off your face, watching how peaceful you look now as he continues to pat your cheek. he subconsciously moves a bit closer.

“what the fuck are you doing?” if silent scream wasn’t a thing, matthew definitely invented it. he’s right at the door, looking intensely at his brother and trying his best not to push him away from you, that definitely scared chris, he never saw that look on his bothers’s face before, a bitter, jealous and pure hatred look.

he gets up and gulps, his cheeks were burning and he was embarrassed, not to mention the last person he he wanted talk to was right in front of him.

“she was having a bad dream, i was just trying to help by giving her some cheek pats and…” he suddenly stops talking, the fear fading away and being replaced by confusion. “why do you care?” he asks in a whisper, his eyebrows frowned and arms crossed.

matthew’s gaze remains fixed on you, and he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy and irritation as he sees you asleep so peacefully, having no idea what just happened but imagining all sorts of things.

“why don’t you care?” matthew suddenly snaps his head back at chris, his eyes narrowing. “you were sitting there like a creep, staring at her sleeping. what were you going to do?”

“nothing!” he snaps back, he would never try to do things with anyone without consent, that’s disgusting and against every single thing he believed in. the fact that matt would actually accuse him was insulting, so he couldn’t stop himself by adding. “you’re the one to talk, she got weird the rest of the night after you left. i knew something was up so i came to check on her and she was hugging her pillow, she always do that when something is bothering her. but you don’t care, do you?”

matthew clenches his jaw, his eyes darkening as he listens to chris speak. he knew that accusing his own brother was low blow, he also knew you were indeed feeling something because it’s not the first time he caught you holding a pillow like that. he didn’t want to admit that he pays attention to your habits, or that chris was right.

“and what exactly is bothering her?” a hint of anger mixed with jealousy and concern in his voice.

chris laughs in a sarcastic tone, rolling his eyes. “i don’t know, maybe she’s bothered because you hated her from the very first moment you’ve met and suddenly you wanted to kiss her?” at this point, he decided to leave the room, not waiting to wake you up with their stupid argument. he closes the door behind him and stares at matthew. “what’s not clicking, dude?”

matt stares a chris, his jealousy and anger still there but he can’t deny that his brother was right. he knew deep down that his behavior towards you was wrong, and that him almost trying to kiss you was a terrible move.

“i don’t hate her, i just…” matt’s voice trails off, he wanted to make excuses but he knew it was pointless.

“i dont care.” chris cuts him off, finally ready to say what he wanted to say for a long time. “just stop acting like a teenager and get your shit together. if you truly hate her, leave her alone. and if for some weird reason you like her…” he pauses, before saying his lasts words. “get in line, you’re not the only one.” before matt could answer, he walks off going to his room.

the boy stands there in silence, stunned by chris’s words. he can’t deny that he felt some sort of anger when he saw chris sitting so close to you, or that the reason why the whole situation started was because he was listening to your conversation the whole time, he usually didn’t snoop around about shit you and his brothers talk when you’re over at their place. but then it got annoying when nick turned the topic towards chris having a thing for you and the thought of his brother becoming more than a friend to you made matt’s blood boil, that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from yelling at you guys to keep things down and that’s why the whole situation happened.

for unknown reasons, you were taking away all his self control little by little since day one and that was the reason he hated you the most.

because he couldn’t actually hate you.

matt watches his brother entering the room, can’t bring himself to say anything, the mixture of jealousy, anger and regret leaving him speechless until he finally mutters something to himself, clenching his fists.

“bullshit.”

232 notes · View notes

redbullgirly · 8 months

Text

HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 2, LH44 smau]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 1, LH44 smau]

Summary: Lewis and his "real life Barbie" girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, are enjoying each others company during winter break. February brings unexpected drama when the seven-time World Champion decides to leave his team... though is that the only surprise waiting for the fans?

Warnings: Little cliffhanger at the end, but don't worry, I plan on making part 3 soon enough :).

Author's Note: This is continuation of the Lewis x barbie!fashion!icon!reader request, hope you'll all like it. This time there wasn't so much of "barbie content", but I'm sure you won't mind. I honestly love this series, plus there are still many photos for me to use, so stay tuned and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! :)

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by susie_wolff, yourusername, charles_leclerc and 1,210,564 others

tagged: yourusername and fencer

lewishamilton Happy holidays from our little trip to mountains 🏔

view all 6,928 comments

user1 I swear to God this is the first time I see Lewis in snow

user2 ikr? like can he even sky? isn't it dangerous for him as an f1 driver??😭

yourusername merry christmas everybody, love u!!🎄🫶

liked by the author

user3 Very happy and merry Christmas to you too Y/N🥰

user4 yeah yeah... but where's the usual christmas post y/n?!

user5 that's what I wanna know user5 😥

user6 She always posts the hot pics with their tree... and this year nothing ☹️

yourusername omg sry guys, i didn't think you'd care sm! i was actually sick on the christmas eve and didn't feel like celebrating 🙈💖

user4 ohhh that's totally okay y/n!!!!

user7 Thanks for replying, hope you'll get better soon!❤️‍🩹

charles_leclerc I see you're copying my training now😉

user8 lol charles just try not to fall on your face on ski

user9 no but can you imagine if we got Charles & Lewis training together in the mountains 😩

user10 It wouldn't even have to be in the mountains... I'd actually prefer them training somewhere hot so they don't have to wear shirts🤭

user9 i love your way of thinking girly

user11 King 👑

roscoelovescoco Mom's and dad's playing's in's the snow's ❄️

liked by the author and yourusername

user12 they left you home alone Roscoe?

roscoelovescoco Of course's not's... my auntie's watched's me's ☺️

user13 This is so adorable🥹🥹

user14 y'all don't understand how much I love their little family

user15 😘🖤✌️💯🌟

user16 y/n's ski suit looks so cool

fencer Good times man!

liked by the author and yourusername

user17 You are my God, Lewis Hamilton❤️

mercedesamgf1 Enjoy your holidays and don't break anything please!⛷🤍

yourusername trying!! 😊🌨

user18 lmfao

user19 Imagine if their best driver broke a leg or smth💀

user20 as a Lewis fan that'd be the last straw of my depression xd

user21 It's enough they couldn't build him a decent car last two years 🥲

user21 you & y/n are the best couple ever!🥰❤️

user22 Why's Lewis in red tho?

user23 sus 🤨

user24 some of you are truly bored and delusional🤣

user25 He probably has it so Y/N can see him on the slope and watches over him tbh

user26 idk where the narrative of lewis being bad at skying came from but i love it 😭

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram stories

seen by lewishamilton, haileybieber, danielricciardo, emmawatson and 562,983 others

lewishamilton replied to your story: Love you so much baby!❤️

yourusername love u too!!!💞

lewishamilton You are my brave girl, aren't you?

lewishamilton It's great you share your experience with others Y/N and trust me when I say I'll always be there for you 🫶🏾🫶🏾

yourusername awww lew, i know and i'll be always so grateful for it 🥰

lewishamilton Anything for my Barbie yourusername reacted with ❤️ to this message

user1 replied to your story: You and Lewis are just soooo cute omg

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story: forever y/n!!🤍🌺

yourusername ofc!!!

yourusername you're probably the only reason i hope the negotiations w ferrari will work out 🙈🤭

alexandrasaintmleux oh yeah, it'd be great to have you in the garage next year 💕

yourusername yeah, let's see what happens in few weeks!

user2 replied to your story: so prettyyyyyy i wanna be u

user3 replied to your story: THE IT GIRL

landonorris replied to your story: The question isn't if you'll be at every gp but if you'll come to McLaren hospitality for one of them😏

yourusername pretty sure mercedes wouldn't be happy about that 🫣

landonorris Oh c'mmon Y/NNNN

landonorris You promised me like ten years ago you'd come

yourusername you were a literal baby ten years ago lando...

landonorris But a cute baby who deserves to have you in McLaren hospitality!!!

yourusername okay okay, i'll come for a visit this year 😽

landonorris ONE HAMILTON DOWN TWO TO GO💪

yourusername what?? 😭

landonorris I decided my life goal is to get you, Roscoe and Lewis to be my fans 😁😁

landonorris Lewis can wait till retirement ofc 😁😁

yourusername idk if i hate you or love you mr. worldwide

landonorris 🤷😙

user4 replied to your story: Mommy and daddy fr

user5 replied to your story: 😍

user6 replied to your story: Hope you'll heal soon if you're still sick!!!

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by bellahadid, lewishamilton, alexandrasaintmleux and 683,912 others

tagged: lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco

yourusername my job is beach 🦀🐬🐚🪸☀️ (btw how many emojis is too much??)

view all 4,068 comments

lewishamilton Isn't that supposed to be Ken's line darling?

yourusername theoretically... but i think i look better on the beach, don't you? 🤭🤷‍♀️

lewishamilton Well of course, your fashion taste when it comes to bikini is hard to beat ✨🫶🏾

yourusername damn are you saying i look hot in that bikini mr. hamilton? ☺️💞

lewishamilton It's Sir actually

yourusername oh shut up lew, i knew you're gonna bring it up 😭

landonorris I just witnessed Lewis openly flirting through instagram comments... the world won't ever be the same. I need to bleach my eyes 😓

yourusername yeah u should learn from my bf lando norizz

landonorris Heyyy this is online bullying, someone stop it

yourusername 😘😘

landonorris 🫤

user1 i have no idea what just happened but i loved every second of it

user2 It looks like when Lewis finally interacts with someone on instagram, it can get WILD

user3 not y/n using lando norizz 💀

user4 she's one of us now

user5 BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW SWEET Y/N & LEWIS ARE PLS?!!🥹

user6 Y/N living her best life and I'm here for it

francisca.cgomes enjoy!🌴

liked by the author

yourusername thx kika, you too!!💓

user7 On my knees for you🛐🛐🛐

roscoelovescoco The fruit's on's the plane's was yummy's 😋🥗

yourusername i definitely agree, let's thank dad for spoiling us!💖

lewishamilton My favourites deserve only the best 😉

user8 AWWWW so cute

user9 I'll never understand why rich people torture their pets like this... c'mmon, why would you give fruit to a dog? He needs meat and dog food. 🙄😤

user10 tf user9 you clearly don't know them at all if you think they're torturing Roscoe... this dog has better life than most of us lol xd

yourusername i'd just like to make it clear to everyone that me and lewis take the best care of our dog we possibly can, give him the food he wants and needs and love him dearly. it feels very offending for someone who doesn't see into our private life to assume we're "torturing" roscoe. you'll be blocked user9 and goodbye

liked by lewishamilton

user11 You know you fucked up when queen Y/N herself writes smth like this to you 🫢

user12 tell them girl!!! you & lew are literally the best parents to roscoe ever!!!❣️

user13 🔥😍

user14 THE BODY GIVING

kellypiquet Wow, the dress is so beautiful!💝

yourusername aww kelly thank you sm! definitely have to see each other soon 💕🫶

kellypiquet Can't wait for the girls talk!

user15 omg imagine listening to y/n y/l/n and kelly piquet casually having girls talk w each other 😫😫

user16 The tea has to be hot between the wags

user17 OMG, gorgeous as always 💖

user18 this couple has me in a chokehold

user19 RIGHT?! why is nobody talking about the 4th pic

user20 They're so hot fr 🥵

user21 and cute too🥺

user22 Love you Y/N 💋

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by nicolashamilton, naomischiff, tomholland2013, landonorris and 1,983,022 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton It's always important to focus on happy memories and remember the good moments with your loved ones. Couldn't ask for better people around me 🤞🏾💫

view all 11,239 comments

user1 funny how he talks about positivity and then in the first picture he's holding middle fingers up lmfao XD

user2 Maybe he took Daniel's F.E.A. rule to his heart🤣

user3 what's that???

user2 Fuck 'em all

yourusername so lucky to have you around me lew! 🥰💗

liked by the author

user4 stoppp I love her

user5 I wanna have what they have😩

charles_leclerc 🤞💫

user6 Ariana what are you doing here?!

user7 Beautiful 🙌❤️

user8 ohhh lew w his dad it's so cute

user9 His dad and Y/N in the same post... we are getting fed rn

neymarjr Amen brother!🙏❤️

liked by the author

user10 I love their their friendship

user11 it's so unreal how the world is small and my fav football player is friends with my fav driver🤭

user12 THE MAN

user13 the second pic is adorable 🥹🥹

user14 I'm jealous but I don't know if I wanna be him or her

user15 honestly i wanna be the third person in their relationship... imagine dating y/n y/l/n & lewis hamilton all at once😩

user16 OMG REAL

user17 boyfriend lewis is my favorite 🫡

1st February 2024

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by scuderiaferrari, lewishamilton, maxfewtrell, t22felton and 3,340,276 others

yourusername guess it's time to change colours ❤️🍓🌹🏎

view all 29,650 comments

scuderiaferrari Welcome to the team, Y/N!❤️‍🔥🏎

user1 you'll make our fav wag depressed next year lol

user2 Ferrari made a master move here 👏

user3 welcome y/nnnnn 🥰

user4 I'm still shocked

user5 me too sis😭

user6 We all are 😃

user7 🔥🔥

user8 when the gf is posting about it, we know it's not just a joke anymore😥

user9 FORZA FERRARI

user10 omg me & y/n y/l/n will be fans of the same team!!!!

user11 literally the only good thing about this

alexandrasaintmleux red looks gorgeous on you 💋💋

yourusername on both of us babe 💋💋

user12 BESTIES

user11 okay this is another good thing about the whole lewis situation xd

user13 Y/N and Alex will be so iconic next year 🙇‍♀️

user14 literally life goals to be like them😍

user15 So excited for this🤩 favorite driver and favorite team and favorite wag🤝

user16 idc about ferrari, but y/n in red slays

user17 omg yessss she's so hot in that dress🥵

charles_leclerc And now you can't make fun of me and my therapist 😘

liked by the author

user18 LOL

user19 not him admitting he goes to therapy bc of ferrari💀

user20 What about Carlos?? You said you come as a package 😡😪

user21 so true user20 it's so disrespectful towards carlos

user22 Guys calm down, this is their job and it's known for brutal driver switches. You'll have to deal with it, it's not personal business 🤷‍♂️

user23 yeah i don't think they're such good friends anyway... it was all for pr and marketing lmao

user24 I agree that it's just a sport, but pls don't do this to my charlos heart... their friendship HAS to be real😓

user25 Always support u and your boyfriend😉😉😉🙌🙌🙌

user26 Carlos deserved so much more!

user27 yes but she can't do anything about it girl, she's literally just dating Lewis 😐

user28 "Everybody is a Ferrari fan. Even if they say they're not, they are Ferrari fans." Vettel❤️

user29 i did not think it was real

user30 I need Lewis to comment something about this other than his statement pls 😭

user31 yeah i had high hopes bc he always comments and interacts w y/n's posts...

user32 Guess not this time😒

user33 Y/N unleashing more waves of chaos

user34 and we love our barbie for that 🤭

messages between Y/N and Lewis

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this! I'll appreciate likes, reblogs, comments, follow and any other way of support. Also, I started my taglist, so if you want to be added or removed, let me know! That way you!ll be first to know that another smau or story came out :). Sorry for the cliffhanger at the end, but don't worry, I plan on making another part. Have a great day!

Taglist: @namgification @bloodyymaryyy

856 notes · View notes

ginnsbaker · 11 months

Text

In Silent Screams (1/3)

Chapter word count: 10.3k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision Tags: Mentions of Smut (F/M), Cheating, Angst, Gaslighting

Notes: This will follow the events of IFISS (not strictly) but in Wanda's POV. Check the tags, you've been warned. This is not rated M, but feel free to skip parts you feel uncomfortable with.

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part I

It’s all happening very fast and she’s hardly keeping pace.

You and Wanda have cleared the apartment you've shared for over five years. The boxes are loaded onto the moving truck, while more personal items are safely packed away in the trunk and rear seats. You're in the building's administrative office, addressing the bills and finalizing other necessities before the move, while Wanda waits for you, sitting on the floor in the middle of what used to be the living room.

Sparky darts around the room, the vastness of the deserted space giving him room to play. Every so often, he looks up at Wanda, his tail wagging, perhaps sensing the change that's about to come. Wanda's gaze follows the little dog, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, grateful for his company.

Every corner of this apartment held a memory—from the faded mark on the kitchen wall where Wanda accidentally spilled red wine, to the tiny dent on the living room floor, after Sparky ran into it during a rough playtime with you. Packing up wasn’t just about boxing items; it felt like carefully wrapping up fragments of time, every piece a memory filed away, never to be recovered ever again.

Though the accumulation of belongings over the years had made the space feel a tad cramped, and a move to a larger place seemed the logical next step, Wanda was deeply nostalgic about leaving behind this chapter. It marked the end of an era for you both—the days of being a young, hopeful couple in love. But at the same time, Wanda also held onto the hope that maybe starting anew somewhere would be good, especially since the past few months have been rocky, with her failed attempts to get pregnant and her stagnant career. Maybe a fresh environment would ease some of that pain, she thought.

The trail leading up to this new chapter, however, is characterized by your increasing hours at the office, overshadowing the time spent at the apartment. Yet, it's this very commitment that led to your promotion just two weeks ago, sparking the unexpected decision to move to an unfamiliar town in New Jersey.

As the reality of the situation sinks in, Wanda feels as if life is moving at an almost dizzying pace. Everything is changing so quickly: your recent promotion, the emotional roller-coaster of trying for a baby, and now the looming move. It’s been more than a lot to take in.

Your footsteps, a soft thud against the wooden floor, break the quiet, drawing Wanda from her deep thoughts.

“Ready to go?”

She turns towards you, her eyes slightly misty, and whispers, “Just one more minute.”

Understanding her need to linger, you cross the room and lower yourself beside her. “Are you okay?” you ask.

Nodding, she takes a deep breath, as if trying to inhale every memory, every scent of the place she's called home for so long. “Yeah. I just need a moment to say goodbye.”

Gently, you squeeze her shoulder, drawing her gaze to meet yours. “You know, it's not really goodbye,” you murmur, trying to reassure her. “Scott promised it’s temporary, so there's a good chance we could be back here in Manhattan.”

Wanda turns to face you, her eyes searching yours for any hint that you're merely telling her what she wants to hear. You consistently strive to make her happy, aiming to shield her from distress. It's a trait she adores about you, though it can slightly irritate her at times. But right now—

“You really think we might come back?” she asks.

You nod firmly. “Absolutely. Manhattan is where we built so many of our memories, and it will always be a part of us. Westview is just a chapter, not the whole story.”

—right now she appreciates your ability to ground her with your words.

She laughs a bit, dabbing at her eyes. “God, I've fallen so hard for this place.”

“Me too,” you say, giving in to the urge to kiss her forehead. After all these years, and despite being married for a while, you still constantly seek reasons to be near her, to touch her. “But wherever we’ll go, we’ll make it our own.”

Wanda decides to christen the first day in your new home by making love on the living room floor, and you're as eager to indulge her. It's short and sweet, straightforward in its intensity. You’re both already attuned to each other's bodies, and she knows precisely where to touch, how to curl her fingers to draw out those soft, sultry moans she always finds so enticing.

The shadows created by the fire dance across the walls, mirroring the boxes scattered all around, each labeled and awaiting their turn to be unpacked and settled into this new space. Wanda absentmindedly rakes her fingers through your hair, your head cushioned on her warm, pillowy chest as you sleepily hum a song. Every scratch sends tingles down your spine, adding to the lethargy pulling at your eyelids.

“'Fade Into You' by Mazzy Star,” Wanda says softly, recognizing the tune.

You give a soft, drowsy chuckle. “You always know. Remember that tiny café near your dorm? They played it on a loop. It was drizzling outside, and we had that ridiculously oversized shared umbrella.”

Wanda smiles at the memory. “How could I forget? We sat there for hours, sipping on our lattes and listening to that song. And we weren’t even together then.”

Drawing a deep breath, you let out a contented sigh, murmuring, “Yeah, but I was already so deeply in love with you then.”

Wanda scrunches her nose and smirks, teasingly retorting, “That's really cheesy.”

You grin, nuzzling further into her, feeling her heart's rhythmic beat beneath your ear. “Doesn't make it any less true,” you whisper.

Wanda would later reflect on this memory, wishing she had held onto it more tightly, especially since it marked the true beginning of something withering inside of her.

Westview isn't quite the place Wanda envisioned. Instead of offering an escape from the unresolved threads of both your lives, it feels more like trading one cage for another. The town pulses with its own set of peculiarities, a rhythm and routine foreign to her. She's ambivalent about it. Sees it only as a brief interlude, a temporary concession she's making to support your career endeavors.

The demands of your job appear to be greater than either of you anticipated. As she's finishing up the first dish she's prepared for the evening, you call her midday to say you won't be home for dinner.

It's not the first or even the third instance. She refrains from keeping tally because she doesn't want to be that kind of wife. However, she's certain it's happened more than just a few times. Wanda tries to hide the disappointment from her voice, assuring you it's fine and that she understands. But as she hangs up the phone, a sensation that's become all too familiar washes over her.

She finds herself drifting towards the window, gazing out at the street below, lost in thought. She's never been one to demand all of your time, but this—it's the first time she's felt so small and insignificant. Aside from that first day when you both made love on every possible surface, there hasn't been a moment recently where you've shown interest in being that adventurous again. You both promised never to become that type of couple. Yet now, she's tormented by the thought: maybe you no longer find her as attractive as you used to, or perhaps you've come to realize some latent disappointment in her.

But everytime you come back in the quiet of the night, pulling her close, kissing her neck, and nestling into her hair, you dispel all her doubts. Wanda's only learning now how exhausting and powerless it could feel to need someone this much.

One particular night, mirroring the many late evenings before, you arrive home to find Wanda watching television in the living room. Both of you are thrilled to see each other awake, rather than just you returning to a warm, sleeping body next to your (cold) side of the bed.

Wanda's hair is slightly tousled, eyes glazed from the weariness of the day, but they light up when they meet yours. The corners of her lips curl into a small, sluggish smile. “You're home,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and longing.

You shed your coat, moving towards the couch and sitting down beside her. “I missed you,” you admit, running a gentle hand through her hair.

She leans into your touch, her body molding against yours. “I've been trying to stay awake lately, just hoping I might get to see you before drifting off,” Wanda says. “Tell me about your day.”

You take a deep breath, trying to process the day's events. “Same old, same old,” you say, putting your head on her shoulder. “Tight deadlines. And you won't believe this, but Janet, my secretary, she's going on maternal leave sooner than expected. So the office... well, they decided to throw something together last minute.”

She sits up a bit. “So you weren't held up because of work, but because of a party?”

“Uh, yeah. I think I mentioned it in my text?”

“I didn't get any message about…” Wanda trails off, taking a moment to steady herself. You’ve barely seen each other in the past week. The last thing she wants is to lash out on you.

But instead of noticing her distress and apologizing, or recognizing how your consecutive absences have affected her, you're fixated on pulling out your phone, scrolling through your messages, to… what? To prove to her that you mentioned it in your text?

“I sent you a text. I swear, I mentioned it,” you mumble. After a few more seconds, you let out a sigh of exasperation, showing her the screen where the message lays unsent. “The message failed to send... I thought you knew.”

Wanda looks at the screen and then back at you, her gaze softening slightly. “It happens,” she says with a soft smile.

“I'm sorry, Wanda,” you admit, placing the phone down. “Yes, it was a gathering, and I should've double-checked or called.”

She shakes her head, her fingers brushing against your cheek, just happy to be touching you. “I’m not mad. I just miss you, that's all.”

You take her hand in yours, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I miss you too. So bad.”

Wanda shifts slightly, trying to get more comfortable in the embrace. “Did you have fun, at least?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you reply with an enthusiastic nod. “It was great catching up with everyone, especially Janet. Did you know she only got married a year ago? And they're already expecting. It's amazing how quickly things happen for some people.”

Wanda's expression, which had been soft and open, changes almost imperceptibly. The brightness in her eyes dims a little, and there's a slight tensing of her lips, a subtle sign of the pain you unknowingly inflicted. You love her, yet at times you unintentionally wound her deeply without even realizing it. Wanda doesn't know how that can be, but in this moment, it feels truer than ever.

“She's really excited,” you continue, oblivious to the change in your wife’s demeanor. “They weren't even really trying. It just... happened. I'm happy for her, genuinely.”

Wanda nods, swallowing hard. “That's... that's great for them,” she says, forcing a smile. She withdraws from your hold, rising from the couch. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

This time, you notice the hardened look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It's nothing,” she replies with a faint, unconvincing smile. “Just tired.”

“Wanda—”

“Good night.”

You hold back, not pushing her for answers. She stops briefly at the base of the stairs, shoulders drooping. Then, with a heavy sigh, she slowly makes her way up, each step looking like it takes more effort than the last.

The computer screen shines a relentless blue glow onto her face.

As the weeks pass, she sees fewer and fewer unread emails, fewer blinking notifications. The heart of the art world has always thrummed with in-person interactions, art deals solidified by firm handshakes, cocktail parties filled with patrons looking to be swayed by a charismatic gallery curator, and the intimate closeness that comes from viewing a painting together and discussing its merits. Video calls, as efficient as they are, don't capture the nuance of human emotion and instinct in the same way.

Sometimes she dreams of being back in the thick of it all, surrounded by masterpieces and dizzying energy. Westview, however, is quaint, almost eerily so. It has its charms, its local coffee shops and small art scenes, but it's a far cry from the scenes of the big city.

She feels her importance at the gallery dwindling. She can't fault them; many of the responsibilities demand her physical presence. Currently, she can only manage to send crucial emails and direct calls and messages from essential patrons, sponsors, and others integral to the gallery's ecosystem. Her power of persuasion doesn't translate as effectively one email at a time.

Wanda has always enjoyed playing to her strengths, particularly when meeting artists in person, where she can swiftly adapt her tactics based on the reactions of her audience, all while maintaining her self-assured demeanor, knowing that she carries a natural charm. However, being stuck in this town has taken that from her.

Feeling the stirrings of frustration rise in her gut, Wanda steps away from the table and retrieves her cellphone. She stares at it like it’s her salvation, contemplating whether to make the call. She needs someone to talk to, someone who knows her, someone who won't judge.

She dials Agatha's number.

The phone rings a few times before a familiar voice, which once irked her but now only deepens her homesickness, answers.

“Wanda, dear! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Wanda tries to muster her energy to match Agatha's, but a hint of her distress manages to seep through. “Hi, I'm—I'm doing well. How about you?”

“Great,” Agatha replies cheerfully, but then her voice drops, “What's troubling you?”

“Nothing,” Wanda tells her quickly. A soft “hm” emanates from Agatha's end, followed by a silence that feels hefty, but not oppressive. It's the kind of silence that invites confession, though with a gossip-driven curiosity.

“It's this place,” Wanda starts, “It's not what I expected. I thought being here would give me space to breathe, a fresh start, but instead, I feel... trapped. Isn't it ironic? I have all this open space around me, but I feel more confined than ever.”

Agatha sighs, a knowing lilt in her voice. “Look, we've been in this rat race long enough. New city, new job, new whatever—it's all the same cycle, just different packaging. Maybe this detachment you're feeling? It's a cue. A chance to rethink... everything.”

Wanda arches an eyebrow, though Agatha can't see it. “What are you saying?” Sparky trots towards her, mewling. Wanda briefly flashes him a smile before scratching him behind his ears.

Agatha's voice grows sharper, more incisive. “I’m saying that maybe you haven’t really given your new town a chance because you’re holding on tightly on a rope to the past. I'm saying maybe the gallery, as much as it's been your lifeline, is now your anchor. Dragging you down. Ever thought of cutting the cord?”

Wanda's heart races. “You mean quit? Just like that?”

A snort from Agatha. “Why not? What's it giving you right now? A title? Perks? Or just a nostalgia trip and a daily reminder of what used to be?”

Wanda is silent, grappling with the blunt reality Agatha’s laying out. The realization that maybe she's clinging to a past that doesn't fit her present is daunting.

“Look, Wanda,” Agatha continues, softer now, “it's just business. The gallery won't sink without you, and maybe you'll find a version of yourself you didn't know existed without it. Westview’s a new board. Play it.”

The house is enormous for two people and a small dog. The vastness of the space should thrill her, yet it amplifies her loneliness. Your early departures and late returns leave her lingering in the expanse, waiting for life to unfold. The sparkling countertops, the polished floors—she's cleaned them over twice this week, a feeble attempt to occupy her time, to feel some semblance of accomplishment.

But what's the point when, at the end of it all, it feels like nothing?

Wanda's eyes flutter open as she hears the familiar, albeit late, sound of the front door clicking shut. Recently, her sleep has been light, so even your softest footfalls register in her consciousness. She remains still, her back turned to the bedroom door, her breathing deliberate and even. The sounds of shuffling reach her ears: the rustle of clothes, a muted sigh, the faint creak of a floorboard.

The bed shifts, dips, as you ease yourself beside her. The silence stretches, becoming palpable, thick. And then, a whisper, soft and low, bathed in regret. “Wanda?”

She doesn’t respond, biting back the words she wants to unleash, the lack of purpose and direction she feels these days. The longing in her eyes, if you could see it, would tear right through you.

It's been five nights in a row. Five nights of cool sheets and colder silences.

Moments later, she feels you trace your fingers over the bare curve of her arm. “I'm sorry,” you whisper, every word dripping with the weariness of corporate warfare and personal neglect. “Missed you. Like you wouldn't believe.”

You press a tender kiss to her hair and Wanda holds her breath. “I promise, I'll make it right,” you say, your voice a mere breath against her ear. “We'll find our way back. I just... I need a bit more time.” Nestled against her, the familiar contours of her body will always be your home, and soon the demands of the past days pull you into a deep slumber.

Yet, for Wanda, sleep remains out of reach. Despite your assurances, a gnawing uncertainty has taken root in her heart. She craves your company, but she also harbors a growing resentment that she’s been trying to deny ever since she set foot in this forsaken town.

Not for the first time this year, Wanda wonders if you can really love someone deeply and yet blame them for the things in your life that make you unhappy.

The rain pelts down on Westview’s streets, the usually quiet lanes now slick with water and glistening under the sporadic streetlights. Wanda’s pace quickens, her umbrella slipping from her loose grip when an unforeseen splash from a passing car leaves her utterly soaked.

“Hey!” she shouts out, more from shock than anger. But the car drives on, indifferent to the trail of mess it's left behind. She's in the process of assessing the damage—wet strands of hair plastering to her face and her shirt now ruined – when he appears. A young man with strikingly bleached hair, seeming unaffected by the god-awful weather.

“You look like you're having a day,” he remarks, his voice carrying an amused lilt. With a confident stride, he approaches her. He’s tall—almost a foot taller than her. “Here, this might help,” he says, already moving to the trunk of his parked car nearby.

She watches him, curious and a tad skeptical. It's not every day a stranger offers assistance, especially in pouring rain. But this one is already producing a neatly folded tee from the trunk. “I hit the gym quite a bit. Always have a spare,” he explains, flashing a grin.

Wanda hesitates, her gaze shifting from the shirt to him and back. Up close, he appears younger than she initially perceived. “Thanks,” she murmurs, accepting the shirt. There's an odd sincerity in his eyes that makes her trust him, if only for this fleeting moment.

“How about a drink? To warm you up. And perhaps, as a small token of thanks for letting me play the good samaritan today,” he says. She arches an eyebrow, surprised by his boldness. Most people would've stopped at the shirt. Had this conversation taken place in Manhattan, Wanda would have already left with a sharp remark about his bold attempt to engage her in conversation. But here and now, she can't quite pinpoint why she hasn't brushed him off as she usually would have by this point.

Despite her initial reluctance, she finds herself smiling. You're the only person she's spoken to since arriving in Westview. She's so starved for a bit of normalcy that maybe a chat with a stranger might do the trick. After all, he's just a kid. She could regard him as a nephew or something similar.

“Alright,” she concedes, “just one drink.”

Within the first minute, Wanda learns his name: Victor Shade. However, he prefers the nickname ‘Vision’, which Wanda finds a tad whimsical. They find a cozy booth in a tucked-away corner, shielding them from potential prying eyes passing by the restaurant. While Wanda didn't plan to keep their meeting a secret, Vision naturally guided her to the more discreet spot.

“So, Wanda,” Vision begins, taking a sip of his drink, “What brought you to town? It doesn't seem like the most obvious choice for someone like you.”

Wanda looks at him, intrigued. “Someone like me? What does that mean?”

He chuckles, “Well, from our short interaction, you seem like someone who's seen bigger cities, more happening places. Westview is... charming, but quiet.”

“Same could be said about you. You don't exactly scream 'small town boy' either,” Wanda says.

Vision's eyebrows rise playfully, feigning offense. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Your confidence,” she retorts with a smirk. “It's loud, almost deafening. It echoes big city vibes.”

He laughs, nodding in concession. “Touche.”

As their conversation progresses, Wanda begins to see him less as a kid and more as a well-read, intriguing individual, particularly when Vision reveals he's an art major, his eyes lighting up as he talks about his passion for Renaissance art and postmodernism.“I graduated with a degree in art,” she shares, her own memories of university flooding back. She recounts stories of late-night classes and the exhilaration of her first gallery show. They bond over favorite artists and art movements, finding shared preferences and amusing disagreements. It's a pleasant surprise for Wanda to discover that, out of all the people in Westview, the first one she genuinely converses with is someone with whom she shares so much in common.

Yet, as she's engaging with Vision, a tiny voice at the back of her mind keeps drawing comparisons between him and you. The way you and Wanda communicate is so fundamentally different. You lean heavily on the left, analytical and logical in your thinking. Your conversations with Wanda often revolve around structured debates, dissecting topics with precision and care, always seeking the root cause or solution. Wanda, on the other hand, leans more to the right, driven by creativity and emotion. She loves diving into abstract concepts, weaving narratives and ideas with passion.

You and Wanda did find common interests and topics that you both enjoy. Over the years, you've had countless meaningful moments where you both found yourselves talking for hours on end. But the rapport she's building with Vision is something she hasn't felt in a long while, or perhaps ever, even with you. It's not necessarily better or worse; it's just different, and it takes her by surprise.

At one point, Vision’s gaze falls upon the glint of Wanda's wedding ring, reflecting the ambient light of the restaurant. “You're married,” he observes, not as a question but a statement.

Wanda hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Yes, I am.”

Vision looks at her, searching for something in her eyes. “Does he know you're out with a stranger?”

“She,” Wanda corrects instinctively, her cheeks warming as she notices his eyes sparkle with heightened interest, then she adds, “She probably wouldn't mind. We trust each other. Besides, it's just a drink with a friend, right?”

He smiles, raising his glass. “To friendship.”

For the first time, she arrives home later than you that night. Wanda finds you in the living room, curled up on the couch, a remote in hand, and an empty wine glass on the table beside you.

As the door clicks shut, you turn, and your eyes clouded with surprise as you meet hers. “Hey,” you murmur, the TV's remote paused mid-air, “Wasn't expecting you this late.”

Wanda shrugs, unsure of how to convey the unexpected turn her day had taken. She hangs her coat and moves towards the living room, her shoes making soft tapping noises against the wooden floor. “Ran into someone... from college,” she half-lies, the omission of Vision's identity a deliberate choice. Not out of guilt, but more a protective instinct to keep the evening's serendipitous meeting to herself.

“Oh? How was that?”

“It was... nice. Different,” Wanda replies, picking her words with care. She can sense your gaze on her, trying to piece together the puzzle, and she quickly adds, “We just grabbed a drink, caught up. You know how it is.”

You nod slowly, the lines of your face softening. “Good. You needed that. This move... it's been hard on you.” The acknowledgment feels like a balm, and Wanda gives you a small, appreciative smile. She’s about to head upstairs when your voice stops her in her tracks.

“That's a... unique shirt you've got there,” you comment. She turns around slowly to face you and sees a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Wanda glances down at the shirt she's wearing, an admittedly garish tee that's far from her usual style. “Some idiot in a car decided I looked better drenched,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “This was the only option the nearby store had.”

It's her third lie of the evening, and Wanda can't explain why she keeps doing it.

“Well, I've got to say, it's a look. You're absolutely killing it,” you tease, a bit sarcastically.

Wanda snorts, the tightness in her chest loosening a little. “Oh, shut it.” She can't help but smile. “You're one to talk. Remember that hideous Christmas sweater you insisted on wearing last year?”

Ah, a challenge. You rise from your spot on the couch, taking a deliberate step towards her. “That was festive. This is... rebellious?” you guess, tracing a finger in the air around the outlines of her new shirt. “You pulling a midlife crisis on me, Mrs. Maximoff?”

She blushes, but whether from the memory of the car incident or your close proximity, it's hard to tell. “It's just a shirt,” she retorts, but her voice cracks and the light in her eyes betrays her amusement.

Your fingers itch to brush against the fabric of her shirt, to maybe pull her closer. “You know,” you murmur, voice low, “you could make even a potato sack look sexy.”

Wanda bites her lower lip, her breath catching just slightly. She revels in the banter, the space between yourselves shrinking with every heartbeat. She finds herself lost in the pull, but a gnawing unease lingers, making her wary. Just then, Sparky comes out of nowhere, sprinting and eventually running into Wanda’s leg. His tail wags a mile a minute, pleading for Wanda to shower him with affection. Grateful for the interruption, Wanda quickly shifts her attention, bending down to indulge the spirited pup. “Missed me, did you, Sparks?”

You try to mask your disappointment, but the subtle change in your expression isn't lost on her, even as she pointedly looks away.

Nights following her meeting with Vision find Wanda restless. It isn’t necessarily Vision himself that haunts her thoughts, but rather their impassioned discussion on art (and just about anything). She realizes, with a sharp pang, how deeply she misses the world that served as her refuge for years when she sought to escape her own reality.

With a renewed sense of purpose, she heads to Westview Institute of Arts and Sciences, seeking a place where her passion and expertise could be valuable.

Hours later, she gets an email inviting her for an interview with the dean. Apparently, the school has been looking for an assistant professor for the past several months now.

A week later, they offer her the position, and she talks to you about it shortly after sending them the signed letter of acceptance.

Her first day at the school is all kinds of awkward, likely more so than her first day as a student years ago. The university building looks massive for being in such a remote, out-of-the-way town. All around, there's a crowd of young students bustling about, their laughter and conversations filling the crisp, morning air.

Among them, Wanda stands, momentarily frozen—an outsider looking in. She wears a chic black ensemble: slacks, a blazer, and a turtleneck, hoping to conceal the anxiety that's making it difficult for her to keep her breakfast down. However, as she's introduced to a few of the other professors, her resolve wavers. They're in more casual attire, and she can't help but feel a tad overdressed, sticking out like a meticulously painted stroke on an empty canvas.

She doesn't get to meet her students immediately. Instead, her day is consumed by orientation processes, faculty meetings, and an extensive tour of the sprawling campus. Every time she turns a corner or meets someone new, a mix of excitement and jitters rushes through her. The enormity of the responsibility she's shouldering, coupled with the fact that she's never taught anyone before (not even tutored)—it's both intimidating and thrilling all at once.

It's been a while since she's felt this alive, apart from the rare times when you're home on time, or when she gets to spend an entire day with you. But this? This is the first time in ages that something beyond the comfort of your love has rekindled a spark in her, reminding Wanda of a part of herself she had almost forgotten.

At the end of her first day, Wanda does meet one of her students.

Technically, she has met him before, but it was in the context of a friendly stranger who lent her his shirt when she needed it the most. When Vision told her that he was an art student, she didn't actually expect to find him attending the same university. She had assumed he was from the city and just passing through.

(Perhaps it’s her silliest assumption she's made to date but—it is what it is.)

“Aren't you a pleasant surprise,” Vision says, rolling down the window of his Mustang. When his voice reaches her, it's distinctly out of place, an unexpected ripple in her carefully mapped out day.

She swallows hard, resisting the urge to take a step back, “Vision, I wasn't expecting to see you here.”

He grins, the sunlight catching the edges of his aviator glasses. “It's a small world, or rather, a small university.” He tilts his head playfully, “Wait... are you...?”

Wanda cuts him off, “Let's just say, I'm exploring my options here.”

A pause ensues, both understanding the unsaid implications.

“You know,” Vision starts, leaning against his car, “I'd heard there was a new, 'exceptionally dressed' professor in town. Just didn't piece it together that it would be you.”

“It's a small world,” she murmurs, her face a shade paler.

He seems to sense her discomfort and remarks, “I suppose this changes everything.”

Wanda sighs, “It's just... I need to maintain a certain decorum here. It would be inappropriate if—”

“—If I turned out to be one of your students,” he finishes for her. His smirk is replaced by a milder expression. “Don't worry. Whatever our relationship outside this campus, I respect boundaries. And I expect you do too.”

She nods, appreciative of his maturity. “Thank you, Vision.”

Before she can fully turn away, Vision snaps his fingers together. “Oh, by the way, you left something with me from last time. Your shirt? The shirt you had to change out of?”

Wanda's face reddens slightly at the memory. “I completely forgot about that. Do you have it?”

Vision points with a thumb over his shoulder towards his car. “Wait a second. It's in the back.” He moves to retrieve the shirt, but after rummaging for a few moments, he frowns. “I could have sworn I left it here…”

He removes his sunglasses, allowing his gaze to lift in thought, revealing the unnaturally vibrant blue of his eyes to Wanda. “Ah, I remember now. It's in my laundry bag, which I took to my apartment.”

“It's fine. You can give it back another time,” Wanda says.

But Vision, with that same gleam in his eyes, counters, “Why not just come with me and get it now? It's a short drive.”

She bites her lip, thinking. On one hand, she'd rather not prolong their interaction given the new dynamics. On the other, it might be best to just get it over with. “I'm not sure…”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “I promise it's just a shirt, Professor.”

The inclusion of the title almost brings a smile to her face. “Alright,” Wanda gives in, “But only if it’s quick. And remember, as far as the university is concerned, we’re merely acquaintances.”

“Technically, you haven’t met your class yet. And as of now, I’m not your student,” he points out with an innocent shrug.

The logic is sound, though it does little to quell the anxiety bubbling within Wanda. She nods, exhaling deeply. “Let’s go.”

They drive to Vision’s apartment building, the journey marked by fleeting glances and a silence that's not entirely comfortable. He attempts to dispel the tension, “I've washed and ironed the shirt for you. Hope that's alright.”

She looks over, surprised by the gesture. “Thank you, that's... unexpected.”

As she sits in the passenger seat of Vision’s car, Wanda inadvertently starts picking up on the small details surrounding her. She notices the immaculate interior of the car—not a stray piece of litter, every surface gleaming. There's a fresh, clean scent permeating the space, a subtle hint of citrus perhaps. It's not the typical aroma one would expect from a college student's car. She thinks of the younger people she's known and how their vehicles often doubled as chaotic storage spaces, littered with discarded clothes, takeaway containers, and the musty scent of overdue laundry.

When they arrive at his apartment, it further exemplifies this meticulousness. Sketches, paintings, and art supplies are neatly arranged, yet the area feels lived-in, warm, not sterile. It's easy to forget he's just 21. He exudes an aura of maturity that doesn’t align with his years. If they had met under different circumstances, and if she hadn’t known his age, she would have pegged him for someone much older, someone who's seen more, experienced more.

“Your shirt,” Vision says, pulling it out from a cupboard—neatly folded, rather than from the laundry bag he remembered earlier. “As promised.”

As Wanda accepts it, her fingers brush against a freshly painted canvas. The vibrant colors smear slightly under her touch.

“Oh! I'm so sorry,” she exclaims, pulling her hand back.

Vision waves it off, “No worries. Sometimes accidents lead to the best kind of art.”

He then looks contemplative for a moment before posing a question, “You know, Picasso once said, 'Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.' What do you think of that?”

The randomness of it throws her off for a second, before she regards him with a thoughtful look. “Well, in a way, creation and destruction aren't opposing forces. One can be a precursor to the other. To create something new, often something old has to give way.”

Vision's eyes light up, clearly pleased by her response. “Exactly! It's like when you're sketching. Sometimes, you have to erase an entire section just to rework it. And often, the second attempt is much better than the first.”

They continue discussing, each statement leading to another topic, and another. After a while, Vision hesitates before making a bold request, “Wanda, would you... would you mind if I sketched you? Just for practice. You have such unique features, and it'd be a challenge for me.”

“Trying to butter up your professor already?” It comes out a bit flirtatious by accident, and Wanda struggles to retract it.

He nods, a little sheepishly. “Only if you're comfortable. It’s just... our discussion has inspired me.”

Wanda laughs lightly, unable to deny that the notion does flatter her.. “Alright, but only for a bit. I'm not exactly dressed for a portrait.”

“You are…” Vision murmurs almost too quietly to hear, his eyes already fixed on his sketchpad. But Wanda still catches it, and a faint blush tints her cheeks. Vision gets to work. In this moment, she's both his muse and his critic, and for a brief while, a hushed silence envelops the room.

However, as the minutes tick by, Wanda begins to feel increasingly restless beneath his studious, penetrating gaze. She tries to keep her posture, attempting to appear at ease, but her muscles gradually tighten in response to his intent focus. There’s a kind of intimacy in being observed so closely that she wasn’t quite prepared for.

“Can you tilt your head just a bit to the left?” he asks, never lifting his gaze from the page. She obliges. Moments later, “A little to the right now, and chin up. Perfect.”

Wanda obeys, adjusting her position to his liking. But it's a stray strand of hair that falls onto her forehead that really tests her composure. Vision notices it immediately. “Could you brush that hair away, please?” he asks.

She reaches up, trying to tuck it behind her ear, but it stubbornly returns to its original position. Frowning in mild irritation, she tries again but with the same result.

Vision chuckles softly. “Stay still,” he murmurs, placing his sketchpad to the side. He carefully rises from his seat and approaches her, eyes never leaving her face. “I'll fix it.”

Heart inexplicably racing, Wanda can't comprehend why she obeys so willingly, remaining motionless as Vision's fingertips ghost near her face. The distance between them becomes almost negligible as his face hovers mere inches from hers. She can feel the warmth of his breath, see the earnest concentration in his eyes. Slowly, ever so gently, his fingers brush the errant strand away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “There we go,” Vision whispers.

But instead of retreating, he lingers. She watches as Vision's eyes flutter closed, and he begins to lean in. She's teetering at the precipice of something that can't be taken back, and she’s horrified to discover a part of her that wants to give in.

Shaking herself out of the trance, she manages to whisper with a tremble in her voice, “I... I have to go.” Her words cut through the moment like a knife, yet Vision remains close, eyes searching hers as he softly challenges, “Are you sure?”

That simple question, laden with suggestion, irks Wanda. This was more than just an innocent sketching session. Irritation builds as she understands what he might have been attempting. In her haste to distance herself, she stands abruptly, accidentally brushing his face with her head. She doesn't apologize, too focused on gathering her belongings.

Vision, realizing his mistake, scrambles to his feet, “Wanda, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—”

But she cuts him off, hand already on the door handle. “I'll see you in class, Mr. Shade.”

Wanda doesn't know how you managed to convince her to shower together one morning.

To be fair, you didn't make much of an effort to persuade her, and she was more than willing to participate. Perhaps it's because life has been an unending whirlwind lately, a blur of responsibilities and ever-mounting pressure. Her fresh endeavor into academia had consumed much of her waking hours, leaving her mentally drained by the end of the day. You, on the other hand, seemed perpetually buried under a mountain of paperwork and late-night calls.

It's not an excuse, of course, but these realities have inadvertently wedged a distance between the two of you. So, on that fateful morning, when you followed her into the bathroom, you were a woman on a mission. But as you wordlessly entered the shower, a certain determination evident in your stride, Wanda felt the need to object. Her protest, however, was cut short. The feel of your lips on hers, possessive and demanding, effectively silenced her. Her knees threatened to give way, and if not for the firm grip you had on her waist, she might have collapsed. Instead, she melted into your arms, letting you take the lead, and well—

That resulted in her losing nearly half of her students for her first class of the day because they believed she wouldn't show up after being nearly twenty minutes late.

“That can’t happen again,” Wanda told you.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

It occurs a few more times before she intentionally begins waking up before your alarm goes off. Wanda misses her wife, but she misses the life you both left behind even more. And despite finding satisfaction in her new career, she can’t seem to stop resenting you for that.

Her period is a week late, but Wanda isn't worried. You both stopped trying to conceive before coming to New Jersey. However, it does remind her of something else she had to let go of and how it felt like you gave up on her too easily for comfort.

The stress from her new job eventually begins to take a toll on her. Stacks of papers sprawl across the table, some marked with red ink, others waiting to be perused. Her hand moves methodically, adjusting her notes, reviewing her questions, ensuring every detail is in place for the impending exam. Her back protests from the hours spent in the same position, her eyes blink away the fatigue, but she's determined to finalize every last bit. It takes a few more moments before she finishes editing her students’ first examination. It's late—far too late for her to still be at the university, but a sense of accomplishment washes over her.

In the middle of soaking up her minor achievement for the day, she suddenly remembers Sparky. He's been left for hours, with just water, and that she's supposed to get groceries for him this afternoon. Shit, Wanda curses breathily, hurrying her movements.

She's about to shut her laptop when she hears a knock on the door. Thinking it's the security guard, she quickly rehearses her plea for just a few more minutes. However, when she opens the door, she's staring into the all-too-familiar blue eyes of Vision.

Wanda takes an involuntary step back, her pulse quickening. “Mr. Shade,” she greets, an uncharacteristic iciness in her voice.

He looks equally surprised, “Wan—Professor Maximoff,” he responds. “I... I wasn't expecting to see you here.”

“Neither was I. What are you still doing here?”

Vision runs a hand through his hair, looking bashful for a change. “I often come to the art room late at night. It helps me think, especially when I feel creatively stuck. I was on my way home and noticed the lights still on in this office.”

Wanda feels a pang of suspicion, even as she tries to remind herself that the university is as much Vision's space as it is hers. Still, she can't help but feel wary. “Well, I'm just leaving,” she says curtly, shouldering her bag. Before she can take another step, Vision's fingers encircle her arm, the unexpected touch of warm skin on skin causing her to pause. She looks down at where his fingers lightly grip her, and then up into his earnest eyes. She can feel the warmth of his hand, the roughness of his fingertips.

“Wait,” he murmurs, his blue eyes locking onto hers, an earnest plea evident in their depths. “We need to talk.”

Wanda instinctively tries to pull her arm away, but Vision's grip tightens, not painfully but enough to keep her there. He steps closer, effectively cutting off her escape route. His height becomes even more pronounced as he leans slightly, bringing his face closer to hers. His presence feels overbearing, almost intimidating, as he places himself between her and the exit. He quietly closes the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the silence, and the room feels much, much smaller now.

Wanda's eyes dart around, looking for a way out, her mind racing. “Vision, this isn't appropriate,” she manages to say.

All he says is, “I know. I'm sorry.”

They find themselves engaged in a staring contest, with only the sound of their breathing serving as a reminder of each other's presence. Several tense seconds pass, with neither willing to break the gaze. Then, slowly, Vision eases the grip on her arm, his fingers lingering for a moment before letting go entirely. He steps back deliberately, emphasizing the space between them, a clear invitation for her to leave if she chooses to.

Her heart pounding loudly in her ears, Wanda takes a moment to gather her thoughts. She wants to leave, to create as much distance as possible between them, especially when she knows what's about to happen if she gives in even the slightest bit.

She takes a shaky breath and, for the briefest moment, her gaze drifts to her work laptop. A flash of silver catches her eye. Her USB, containing the work she's been laboring on for hours. “I-I forgot something” she mutters, panic rising in her voice. “I need that before I go,” she says, pointing to the device.

Vision nods, not saying a word. Wanda cautiously begins to move towards the desk, but before she can reach it, Vision's there, his movements swift and silent. He suddenly wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close. The initial shock has her resisting, pushing against his chest, but it's short-lived. Before she knows it, she's letting out a quiet sigh, her face buried in the crook of his neck. He hoists her up effortlessly, seating her on the edge of the desk.

As she looks up at him, he slides his hands up, disappearing beneath her skirt. The faintest image of your face flickers across Wanda's mind, a ghost of a memory that almost pulls her back to sense and reason. But as Vision's fingers find their wet mark, Wanda's grip tightens on the edge of the desk, her eyes fluttering closed. She can no longer recall the sequence of events that led her to this very moment, nor the myriad reasons why it shouldn't be happening.

Every bit of rationale, every thought of you, all seem to evaporate, leaving only the need to breathe and to feel.

To just be.

Wanda remains in her car without starting the engine for a good thirty minutes. She left the room as soon as she could pull her panties up past her knees. She can feel the residual heat on her skin, how he felt inside of her. She resists the urge to squeeze her thighs together, attempting to disregard the stickiness and discomfort she feels.

She clutches the steering wheel, knuckles white, struggling with the realization of what she's done. She's betrayed you. It wasn't just a lapse in judgment, it was a deliberate decision, a yielding to curiosity, to loneliness, to that inexplicable pull towards someone who isn’t you. But as much as she’s drowning in guilt, she couldn’t deny how her mind keeps going back to Vision’s touch, the way he'd made her feel so alive, so seen, in a way she hadn’t felt in a while. It's maddening, this push and pull. It's like there are two sides of her fighting it out inside—one, the devoted partner who loves you, and the other, a woman who's awakened, yearning for something she can't quite put into words.

She laughs, the sound teetering on the edge of hysteria. It's an unsettling sound in the quiet of the car, an indication of her fraying sanity. How did she get here? How did she become this person? In what manner did she find herself engaging in infidelity despite your presence in her life? You've been the guiding light in her life for so long, making her the best version of herself she's ever known. But still, how can she undo this part of herself she never thought existed?

Tears form in her eyes as she closes them, trying to banish the memories, to shut out the storm of emotions threatening to consume her. But they're too powerful, too raw, too fresh. Too real. And she knows she has to face them, to confront the reality of what she's done and decide where to go from here.

It's just past midnight when Wanda's car pulls into the driveway. She emerges from the vehicle in a daze, her steps slow and disconnected, as if each step leads her inexorably towards her reckoning. The door to the house opens before she can even reach for the knob. There you stand, concern evident in your eyes. Wanda hadn't expected to find you awake, especially not at this hour, waiting for her.

It’s your scent first that reaches her before anything else, the distinct aroma of fresh pine from the sprawling garden surrounding the house, coupled with the distinct smell of Sparky, suggesting that you've held him close most of the night. The protective, almost desperate way your arms encircle her reveals just how much you've been consumed with worry about her whereabouts and safety.

Every time you’re near, every time she gets to hold you, it’s instinctual for her to break into a smile. But tonight, it's ephemeral. A tidal wave of guilt and regret crashes over her. She stiffens in your arms, the realization of her actions making her insides churn.

“Where were you?” you exclaim as you pull away and clasp her shoulder blades hard. “I've been here, pacing, worried out of my mind, and I couldn't reach you.”

It's the questioning, the concern, the love in your voice that breaks something inside her. “My phone died and I forgot to bring my charger. I was writing the final exam that I have to turn in by tomorrow, and got carried away. I’m so sorry,” she says evenly, almost robotically.

You raise an eyebrow, frustration evident. “You could've borrowed a phone or used the school's landline, right?”

She has to remind herself that your words aren't accusations. You're not out to corner her; you genuinely don't know what she's done. And in that moment, she decides that she'll do everything to ensure you will never know.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda resorts to tactics she despises in herself. “Like I said, I was working,” she retorts with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, hoping the hint of condescension in her tone might distract you, even as it tears at her own conscience. “It’s Westview. What’s the worst that could happen to me? Please let it go, I’m so fucking exhausted.”

Your reaction to her words is immediate, a palpable retreat, and she's overcome with the urge to spill every secret, every confession, if only she could be certain you wouldn't walk away.

“Fine,” you say tersely, stepping aside to let her pass. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” You don’t bother to hide the hurt in your eyes and her resolve almost crumbles.

“Sounds good,” she says and turns abruptly, making her way upstairs, her pace quickening with every step.

In the morning, she offers you kisses as an apology, and you're blissfully unaware of the hundred ways it's steeped in treachery.

It keeps happening with Vision and she starts to waste away. On the surface, she seems to be taking better care of herself: shedding some weight, toning in ways that leave you entranced during the few mornings you catch her making breakfast.

But Wanda is adept at playing it cool, brushing off your hungry gazes as if they're mere figments of her imagination. She longs for you in the same intense way she always has, but she's entangled in this twisted duality now. As she writes names and explanations on the board, she can almost feel the intensity of Vision's stare, a heat on her back that she's come to recognize all too well. Sometimes, during a lecture, she'll turn and catch him staring, and right then, she knows where they'll be once the session ends. She also begins to frequent places she's never been to before, corners of the town she hopes no one will recognize them in. There, they sit side by side, their knees touching underneath the table, talking about everything and nothing.

And you wouldn't, not for a second, entertain suspicions about her hardly ever being at home. Because your love for her is profound, and your trust, even more so. Because she knows you're buried under the weight of your own challenges at work, and capitalizes on this knowledge for the time being. Because whatever this is, whatever she’s doing with Vision, she knows it’s temporary. She swears she’ll clean up after herself, the moment she can purge this from her system.

Because none of it feels as if they're truly happening, and Wanda convinces herself it's just a hazy, erotic dream from which she can wake at any moment she chooses.

“Do you love me?”

The question hits Wanda like a freight train. Of course she does. You’re her… of course she does. And she’s never felt the fear of losing you, the true love of her life, more acutely than now.

“Of course I love you,” Wanda says, fighting to keep her voice steady even as her chin quivers. “What a silly question.”

“I guess I’m just feeling silly. We’ve been working hard, and when we’re together,” you pause, your voice quivering, letting out a mirthless laugh, “We’re still working.”

Her guilt amplifies. She's been so engrossed in her own struggles that she failed to see how it's affecting you. The toll it's taken on your relationship. Your insecurities, your need for validation, all because she's been distant and distracting herself from her own demons. She's grateful the shadows conceal her face from you, or else it would be to easy for you to recognize the truth, and—

“I just miss you,” you confess, and it stings.

“Me too,” she whispers, the words filled with layers of meaning she can't articulate. Wanda tries to find more words, something to reassure you further, but she can't quite comfort as effortlessly as you do for her. You've always been more adept at loving her than she's ever been with you.

“Good night,” you say, and Wanda detects no underlying bitterness in your tone. She almost wishes there were. It'd be easier if you didn't love her so unconditionally; then she wouldn't feel so wretched for the secrets she's keeping just beyond this room's walls.

She goes as far as asking herself if she simply misses having a cock inside of her, the thought nagging at her especially when Vision stays firmly inside her, holding her in place as he spills into a condom. She flutters around him a few more times before she slackens in his hold.

Pushing away the guilt that threatens to engulf her every time they are together, Wanda wonders if this reckless escapade with her student is merely an escape from the monotonous predictability of her life or a deeper reflection of some unmet need. Vision’s bedroom becomes a space of both pleasure and torment for her. When she catches her reflection in the mirror he’s installed in front of the bed, she barely recognizes the woman staring back, eyes clouded with both desire and regret. She clings to the belief that once she figures out what she's truly seeking, she can end it all and return to you, wholly and completely. But the more she thinks about it, the more elusive the answer becomes.

Vision’s bony hips gradually come to a stop, and he finally pulls out of her. She feels the evidence of their recent activities on her skin, and is hit with an overwhelming need to wash it all away.

“I need a shower,” she murmurs, more to herself than to him. He simply nods, watching her intently. There's a question in his eyes, perhaps seeking assurance or simply wondering if she'll return to his bed afterwards. Wanda doesn't give him an answer, nor does she meet his gaze for long. Instead, she wraps herself in whatever piece of clothing she can find and heads towards the bathroom.

When she emerges from the shower, redressed in the clothes she wore earlier, Vision is absent from the bedroom. Instead, the appetizing aroma of food wafts toward her. Following the scent, she discovers him in the kitchen, incongruously clad in a pink apron over his boxers.

As Wanda heads straight for the exit, Vision's voice abruptly stops her.

“Wanda, wait.”

She halts, not turning around, her hand still clutching the handle.

“You act as if I'm luring you back each time, Wanda. Like I'm this puppeteer pulling your strings.” He casually flips whatever he's cooking. “That's not how it is, and you know it.”

Wanda grimaces, his words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. “Vision, it's not that—”

He interrupts her, his tone dripping with feigned innocence, “Have I ever forced you? Pushed you into anything? Or have you willingly come to me every time? You have, haven’t you?”

She turns to face him. “You know it’s more complicated than that—”

“Yet you keep coming back. And every time you do, I think, 'Maybe she sees in me what I see in her.' But then you run, making me out to be the villain.” He finally looks up, his eyes pleading and calculating at the same time.

Tears well up in her eyes. She tries to speak, but he continues, overriding her. “You're an intellectual, Wanda. A brilliant mind. I've learned more from you this semester than years combined. Isn't it natural to be drawn to such brilliance? To want more than just lectures?”

“I'm married,” Wanda states with conviction, even though just an hour ago, that fact held no meaning beneath the sheets. “I've made vows. Promises. Every time I’m with you, I question myself, my integrity. I don't know why I keep letting this happen.” Wanda's voice quivers with frustration and desperation. Vision sees it as a minor victory. He knows he's affecting her.

Disregarding the pan and turning off the stove, he approaches her, his gaze never leaving hers, trying to weave his narrative into her consciousness.

“That's just it, isn't it? There's no betrayal. We're not sneaking around, planning secret getaways. We're two souls who've connected on a level that's rare. Deep, profound. We're just... experiencing it.”

She takes a step back, shaking her head furiously. “It's not right.”

He follows, closing the distance between them. When she’s within his reach, he lifts her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Who defines what's right, Wanda? Why is it wrong for two souls with undeniable connection to explore every facet of it? Does it make us bad people to want to feel alive?"

She tries to pull away, her gaze dropping to the floor, but he tightens his grip on her chin. “Look at me,” he says, his voice soft but insistent. “Tell me you don't feel it. This connection.”

She inhales sharply, her resistance waning. “I do... but I can't understand why.”

He releases her, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. “Because it's natural. And maybe… maybe there's nothing malicious in it. Nothing deceitful. We're just... experiencing.”

Wanda closes her eyes, his words washing over her, causing further confusion. “What do you want from me?”

He smiles, his touch growing bolder as he cradles her face. “I want friendship. Inspiration. You've become my muse, Wanda.”

“She loves me,” she murmurs, a last-ditch effort to wriggle free from his hold.

“And you love her, right?” he challenges, slowly starting to unbutton her blouse.

“Yes, but—”

“But love isn't singular,” he interrupts, his fingers moving deftly, revealing more of her skin with every second. “You can love her and still find something unique with me. Your love for her isn’t lessened because of our connection.”

Wanda bites her lip. With every piece of clothing he peels away, it feels like he’s stripping away her defenses, too. “It's not just about love. It's about commitment, trust.”

He slides her jacket off her shoulders, his hands warm against her bare arms. “And haven't you committed to her in every other aspect of your life? You share a life, a home, memories, and love. What we have... it's different. It's intellectual, spiritual,” he argues, his gaze never leaving hers.

“But there are lines we’ve crossed—”

“Lines society drew for us.”

She swallows hard, tears threatening to spill. “I just don't want to hurt anyone.”

His voice softens, even as his fingers deftly work at the last buttons of her blouse. “Neither do I. But sometimes, in life, we have to listen to our true desires, to understand what our heart and soul really need. It’s not about being selfish; it’s about being true to oneself.”

And is this one of her 'true' desires?

Before she can articulate things further, the last of her defenses and garments are stripped away, and Visions sheds his boxers and draws her near. Their skins meet, a tantalizing sensation of heat and urgency. Wanda's breath catches as Vision's strong arms wrap around her waist, effortlessly lifting her. She instinctively wraps her legs around him, their closeness leaving no room for hesitation or doubt.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #my writing #category: angst #iss #my fic #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n

641 notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 1 year

Text

teddy bear | max verstappen social media au

pairing: non-famous!reader x max verstappen

when there's only one person who can bring out the real max

maxverstappen1 added to their story

[caption: visiting my favourite person at work]

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff and 201 others

yourusername: best times ever with you <3 (p.s. thank you for my bunny)

view all comments

maxverstappen1 it's easy to have the best time when you're with you ... p.s. you need something to remind you of me when i'm racing

yourusername awww love you maxy

yourbff god you guys are so cute

verstappenstan did they forget this isn't their private accounts ... anyhow it's cute as fuck i love them so much

lilacleclerc why does max have me giggling and kicking my feet in this comment section WHO IS HE?

maxverstappen1

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and 552,109 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: the paddock and the win are that much sweeter with you (the hospitality coffee too)

view all 110,784 comments

falonso14 who are you and what did you do with max verstappen?

worldchampmax yall going crazy in the comments over ... max having feelings??? wild

yourusername barista first human second - BUT congrats maxy you're the best !!!

maxverstappen1 your coffee is generational

danielricciardo i thought you liked my coffee the best :(

maxverstappen1 sorry mate, y/n comes first

f1forlife i know max has a bit of a reputation on track but i for one love seeing this side of max

yourusername added to their story

[caption: favourite boy in action]

daniel3.jpeg

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 201,976 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, yourusername

daniel3.jpeg: spent the weekend with dumb and dumber

view all 51,087 comments

maxverstappen1 i get me but HER - YOU'RE CALLING HER DUMB??

yourusername yeah danny i watched that coffee machine kick your ass watch your tone :(

howdyricciardo damn they really gagged danny's ass

verstappenthelion i really don't care what jos thinks i love these two together

landonorizz me too !! honestly think someone with a humble job is just what max needed

sophiekumpen my two favourites, come visit again soon xx

yourusername miss you !!

babyricc3 she's already met and got the approval from sophie ??? FUCK WHAT JOS THINKS

f1wagsupdates

liked by leclercstan, ilovepierregasly and 2,108 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagupdates: max verstappen's girlfriend y/n y/ln seen confronting sergio perez after his crash with verstappen left the dutchman in the hospital. the argument was reportedly short as y/n rushed to the hospital to be with max. sources have stated that this isn't the first altercation she's got into in the paddock, the other occasion coming after jos verstappen was heated with his son after a qualifying mistake, y/n intervening with harsh words for jos. what do you think? is y/n out of line?

view all comments

estebestie31 thank god there's someone in max's life to stand up for him

kikiaye i love her even more now, jos is way too harsh on max and checo was so so dangerous this weekend i'm glad y/n said something

flowersforleclerc i don't want anyone to say she doesn't love max after this

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 31,089 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: a championship winning weekend in three pics. but on a serious note i love you so much and i'm so so proud of everything you've achieved!! you deserve everything and more and i'm so grateful i get to be by your side and along for the ride, love you forever maxy xx

view all comments

verstappengirly i love them your honour

maxverstappen1 you're the best thing to ever happen to me and i wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you. i love you so much i'm so glad we met x

danielricciardo damn yall are so cute

lilacverstappen best wag ever

charles_leclerc idk what happened at that party what was in that champagne?

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, christianhorner and 1,089,567 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: told you guys she'd be mrs. verstappen soon... jokes i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you y/n and have ten million children and even more cats x

view all comments

verstappensupremacy him cutting off his dad and marrying the love of his life this year has been so so good to him

ilovemax he deserves this so much

yourusername i've loved every moment of these past years together and i can't wait for the rest of our life xx

danielricciardo CONGRATS LOVE BIRDS

christianhorner congratulations you two

note: hope you enjoy - i finally finished uni so i am back !! and will finally get to all the requests lol

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen

2K notes · View notes

zepskies · 7 months

Text

Take Me Home - Part 1

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now. I’m so glad I finally get to start sharing this with you! I truly hope you enjoy the ride. (Note: This is set towards the beginning of season 3.)

Song Inspo: “Fly Away” by John Denver. And remember, you can listen to the full Take Me Home Playlist ⬅️ here.

Word Count: 4,400

Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, a bit of setup, “Glamper Girl,” and a side helping of cops enjoying baked goods…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 1: All of Her Days

“This really feels like cheating,” you mused.

Yet again, you surveyed the sheer size and luxury of this tent you were supposed to be “camping” in.

Between the giant king-sized bed with crème and burgundy comforters, a two-seater dining table, a dresser (with a vanity), and even a small bookshelf, it looked like the Taj Mahal of glamping.

“Can’t you just enjoy it?” your best friend replied, poking a teasing finger into your side. She smirked when you flinched and gave her some playful side-eye. “My parents are the ones footing the bill, anyway.”

“Of which, I intend to pay them back for my half,” you said. Mary just rolled her eyes and waved you off. Her parents’ money was something she’d never had a problem spending.

“Come on, they’re getting ready to go on the hike without us,” she said, tossing her little purse over her shoulder. You were a bit more practical with your backpack, filled with a bottle of water, a couple snacks, bug spray, and your sketch pad.

Mary bumped your shoulder with hers as you two walked out of the tent, and you gave her a smile. You were glad she insisted on this little week-long excursion. It gave you exactly five more days to enjoy the fresh air of no responsibilities, before you returned to reality.

“So where are you guys from?” you asked a couple of walking companions on the early-morning hike.

The woods of Helena, Montana were vast and deep, and you found them a bit intimidating. You were a city girl, through and through, but you were learning to appreciate the mountains and the steep trails flanked by dense trees. You were also grateful that you weren’t alone.

Emily seemed to be a nice girl around sixteen, while her stepfather Avery was a lightly graying man in his 40s. You pegged his accent as English, the “casual posh” kind. On a scale from Dame Maggie Smith to Dick Van Dyke's attempt at cockney, you’d put Avery on a Benedict Cumberbatch level.

“Well, I met her mother in Houston,” Avery replied, nodding at the girl beside you. “She and Emily joined me here in Helena after we were married this past spring.”

Emily confirmed with a nod. “Yep, starting school here in a few months.”

At that, you could smile. “Me too, actually.”

Emily gave you a confused look while she fiddled with an app on her phone.

“What? You’re still in school?” she asked.

“No,” you laughed. “I’m—”

“She’s a college professor,” Mary tacked on. “AKA: a giant nerd.”

Emily tried not to smile at your expense. You just shook your head at your friend.

“Thanks,” you said wryly, despite your amusement. “We can’t all be personal trainers. One can only take so much Spandex.”

Mary rolled her eyes and prepared to fire back a retort, but your attention shifted back to Emily, who seemed to be debating whether to press a red button on her phone. You thought it looked like a voice recording app.

You followed her line of vision and saw Paige and Luke up ahead—a young “happy couple” here at Sunny Day Excursions. They were whisper-yelling at each other, sniping something about Luke’s birthday. Apparently, he had a problem with getting another year older.

Don’t we all, you thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. The guy had been a sour apple since the start of this trip, and to be honest, he was starting to get on your damn nerves.

“This is like, prime time stuff for my podcast,” Emily whispered.

You looked over at her. “Oh yeah? What’s your podcast about?”

“Relationships, lies, that sort of thing,” she replied.

You almost grimaced. Good luck finding willing subjects for that one.

Mary snickered on your other side. She leaned close to your ear so only you would hear.

“God, Paige’s voice is so effing annoying. Like a chipmunk on helium,” she said. “I feel sorry for him.”

You shot her a dry look. “He’s the one asking for it, if you ask me. But they’ve been going at it the whole time. Makes me feel sorry for both of them.”

You shook your head and kept walking on the trail. Mary sobered as she stared back at you. She was reminded of why you two were really here, and what you’d been through this past year…

What you all had been through.

You and Mary fell behind Avery and Emily on the trail, giving Mary the opportunity to touch your arm and stop you in the middle of the trail.

“Do you really plan to stay here?” she asked. “In dusty-ass Montana? With the snakes and the bears and the old hicks?”

“Well, I got the key to my apartment before we got here,” you said. And she knew that. “My aunt is letting me crash with her until the rest of my things ship over in a couple of weeks, and I start a new job in the fall. So yeah, I’m staying.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She gave you a long look, but you held your ground. You even popped your Airpods in for good measure. You were done with this conversation.

She huffed and kept walking.

You watched your friend go in annoyance. You knew she would try to talk you out of your decision at some point on this trip, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Heaving a sigh, you looked up at the clear sky above you, filtered through the tall trees. You took a moment to collect yourself in this great big no man’s land, where you could finally let yourself slow down for a minute, and breathe.

You raised the volume in your Airpods when a particular song came through.

“All of her days have gone soft and cloudy. All of her dreams have gone dry,” crooned the soft melody. You nodded to the rhythm of the mellow notes, but all the while, you tried to blink through the sting of tears.

“All of her nights have gone sad and shady. She's getting ready to fly…”

You rubbed your left hand, where you still had the tan line of the ring you used to wear.

“It’s really okay, sweetie,” Mary tried to console you, rubbing her hand between your shoulders.

After the hike, you all had returned to camp and sat down to brunch. It was an amazing spread, with waffles and muffins and Danishes, eggs done three different ways, toast with jam, assorted sandwiches, coffee and orange juice (and sparkling wine for the adults).

But even with a huge plate of appetizing food in front of you, you were sulking a bit. You had your face covered by your hands as you rested your elbows on the table.

“One of my only goals on this trip was to ride a damn horse, and I couldn’t even do that,” you said.

Sunny Barnes and her husband Buck were the heads and hosts of this whole trip. And after the hike, their son, Cormack, had tried to help you onto the nice chestnut mare the handler had brought out of the stable for you. But your entire body had locked up in fear at the prospect of being vaulted onto the horse.

In fairness, she was huge. And you were both afraid of heights, and animals that could buck you off its back and trample you.

You hadn’t been able to speak. You just shook your head vigorously every time Cormack asked you if you were okay.

So he’d graciously patted your back and gave the mare to Emily instead.

“I’ve never been able to ride a horse either,” Avery offered in commiseration. You lowered your hands and gave him a wan smile.

Emily was carving an apple with an impressive (and somewhat scary) looking pocketknife. She shrugged.

“It’s not so hard,” she said. But, perhaps realizing how she sounded, she looked up and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get it! It’s hard in the beginning, but once you get used to it, it’s like riding a bike.”

Right. A bike with hooves, you thought, ripping a piece of bread from your egg and cheese sandwich.

Mary bumped your shoulder with a teasing smile. “You just got showed up by a high schooler. Again.”

You pursed your lips in amusement. You tossed the piece of bread. It hit her dead between the eyes. You giggled at the way she jumped with a start.

“Real mature,” she shot back.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a giant bite of your sandwich for good measure. “I learned from you.”

Even Emily snickered, making Mary roll her eyes in amusement.

Shortly after, Avery and his stepdaughter were finished with brunch and got up to get back to their tents.

You glanced over and noticed that Emily had left her knife on the table, now closed in its sheath.

Sheriff Beau Arlen may have still been relatively new in town, but he considered himself a consummate professional.

He’d agreed to accompany Cassie, the local private investigator (and his friend), up to this mountain pass to look for a missing backpacker. Questioning Buck and Sunny Barnes and their crew was just good old-fashioned, thorough police work.

But if it also gave Beau a chance to check on his daughter up here “glamping” with her half-baked stepfather, then he couldn’t pass up on that opportunity, now could he?

After talking to Buck and Sunny, who hadn’t seen hide or hair of the backpacker, Beau let Cassie take care of questioning Cormack Barnes while Beau found his daughter outside her tent. After giving her a big hug and inspecting her “tent” (Really? he thought. Looks more like a hotel room than a tent.), he asked her how her trip was going so far.

“Good, Dad. But you really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Emily said. She was amused, but no longer surprised to see him.

“No, no, no. I didn’t, okay?” Beau refuted. Though at the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She was a sharp kid. “All right, maybe not the only reason. We had to talk to Sunny about a missing backpacker. It’s something Cassie’s investigating.”

Emily’s amusement faded into surprise, and then concern.

“Wait, what?” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, you know…parents probably didn’t get the memo that ‘off-the-grid’ was part of the deal,” he said, giving her a meaningful raise of his brows. Maybe his daughter didn’t have to screen so many of his calls while she was on this trip.

“Overprotective parents, huh?” Emily dryly remarked.

“The worst,” Beau agreed, shaking his head.

But he smiled. Just seeing her made his whole week better…and it alleviated some of the hurt in his heart. Not getting to be with her on a trip like this stung. And knowing Avery was the one who got to be there for her grated on him.

Beau was already missing too much of his daughter’s life, and he still wasn’t too sure on how to deal with that.

Speak of the devil, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery approaching. Beau forced himself to look as close to pleasant as he could get around his ex-wife’s husband.

While Mary went back to the tent to freshen up, you grabbed Emily’s pocketknife and went to look for her so you could return it. It had a wood-carved hilt and had her initials, E. A., engraved on the side. The knife looked special, not the kind of thing you wanted to lose.

You found her outside her tent with her stepfather, and a man you didn’t know. He had broad shoulders and short brown hair that swept above his brow. When he turned to look at you, the first thing you noticed was the cut of his bearded chin, and then the green of his eyes.

You didn’t realize it, but your insides stilled, just for a moment. Then you remembered to smile.

Avery looked a bit tense, as did the newcomer. You sensed you were interrupting a tete-a-tete.

“Uh, hi. I’m sorry,” you said, and extended the sheathed knife toward Emily. “Just wanted to get this back to you. You left it at the table.”

“Oh! Thanks,” Emily said gratefully.

“Well, hi there,” said the new guy. He was tall, you noted, wearing a beige jacket over a buttoned-down shirt, some jeans, and boots. It was a casual look, but all worked very well for him…in a rugged cowboy sense.

“This is my dad,” Emily supplied.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am,” he said, giving you a more friendly smile that you matched in kind when you shook his hand. You also gave him your name to go along with it.

“You here for a little belated vacation, Sheriff?” you added.

“No. Matter of fact, I’m here on police business,” he replied. That concerned you, but he was quick to wave a dismissive hand. “Everything’s okay here. Just checking on a missing backpacker. But it looks like we’ll have to continue our search for him elsewhere.”

You hummed at that in concern. “Well, I hope you find him.”

“I do too,” he agreed with a nod.

Then, Emily took the slight pause in the conversation as her chance to escape.

“Okay, Dad, well, we’re gonna go hike down to the lake,” she said, gesturing at Avery. “But as you can see, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Beau’s smile became a bit tight, but he nodded in understanding. He gave her a big hug, and you could see he was reluctant to let her go. Avery stood behind them. He held tension in his shoulders. You felt a bit awkward yourself, being in the midst of what was clearly an uneasy family dynamic.

Beau released his daughter. After she took off with Avery following close behind, Beau turned to you next. You tried not to blush at the sight of his handsome face.

“Sorry, again,” you said, raising a placating hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

His lips twitched upward, and he shook his head. “You’re fine. Though you don’t look like a local. You from outta town?”

I could say the same thing about you, cowboy, you thought. There was a slight southern drawl in his voice that sounded like Alabama. Maybe Texas?

“You got me,” you nodded. “I’m from Chicago originally, but…I’ve actually just moved here to Helena.”

“Ahh, a city girl,” he remarked. “Small world. I just got here a few months ago myself. Houston, Texas.”

Your smile brightened. Right on the money.

“Yeah, I figured,” you couldn’t help teasing him a little. His grin kicked up in the corner.

“How’re the mountains and fresh air treating you then?” he asked. “Better than that blanket a’ smog in Chicago.”

“We do not have smog…or, well, not that much,” you laughed, “but yes, I’m actually really liking it here so far. I mean, I just got here about a week ago. I’m still learning. Though Emily actually tried to help me ride a horse today.”

“Yeah?” His brows raised. “How’d that go?”

You had to laugh. A kind of self-deprecating laugh that had you half-covering your face to stem off your blush.

“Not well,” you admitted.

Beau ducked his head with a smile. He met your eyes in amusement, but not without kindness.

“Well, here’s a tip for ya,” he said. He planted his feet, held his hands up into lightly clenched fists. “The trick is in the legs. Grip tight, but not too tight. He’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.”

You blinked a bit wider. Was that just honest advice…or was he sort of flirting with you?

It made you blush in earnest.

“Ah. Good to know,” you said with a laugh. He treated you with a tip of his imaginary hat.

“Hey,” someone called out.

Both of your heads turned to a tall black woman with long curly hair. She gave you a polite smile before she nodded up at Beau.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

“Ah, yep,” Beau nodded. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta get back to the station.”

“Oh, of course,” you said. But you held up a finger. “Wait, just a sec.”

You hastened back over to the table of confections from brunch and offered them a chocolate chip muffin each for the road. Cassie politely declined, but Beau gladly took his.

“Although, are you trying to stereotype me or somethin’?” he teased.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but after a moment, it hit you. You’d just given a cop a baked good.

“At least it wasn’t a donut,” you quipped, despite your embarrassment. Beau still looked bemused, but he let you off the hook.

“That’s okay. I’ve never been known to turn down free food,” he assured.

“He really doesn’t,” Cassie confirmed. You noticed how she was waiting, arms crossed.

“Well, there you go! Sorry for keeping you,” you said.

“Not at all, darlin’,” said Beau. His smile had a charming gleam. “Nice to meet you.”

You quirked a smile back. “Wow, you are from Texas.”

You didn’t think you’d ever been called darlin’ in your life.

Beau’s good humor shifted into slight embarrassment himself.

“Sorry. I’ve been told to stop doing that,” he said. When he chuckled, you did along with him. You weren’t offended by it, just surprised by the old-fashioned endearment.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Nice to meet you too, Sheriff.”

You raised a hand in goodbye, and Beau returned it, watching you go. Meanwhile, Cassie watched him with a small smirk. He stepped down from the short platform in front of Emily’s tent to meet her.

“Were you just checking out Glamper Girl? In front of your daughter, no less,” Cassie remarked.

Beau shot her a look of denial. “I did no such thing. I’m a professional. And a gentleman, mind you.”

Cassie rose a brow at him. It stirred up a bit of his defensiveness.

“But, I’ll have you know that Em had already moved on when I had a friendly conversation with the glamper,” he said.

Cassie rolled her eyes. Right.

That afternoon, you decided to bring your sketchpad and your modest collection of paints to the lake. You sat on the bank and tried to paint, while Mary joined the others in swimming.

“That looks nice,” Emily’s voice startled you from behind.

You twisted to look at her, and she gave you an apologetic look. She was dressed to go for a swim in a one-piece bathing suit and some shorts. She seemed more of a conservative dresser than typical high school girls her age. Maybe that had something to do with a policeman being her father, or maybe that was just her personality.

“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands.

“It’s okay.” You waved it off and gestured for her to sit beside you if she wanted. She did so, admiring your work over your shoulder. You felt a little embarrassed by it, but you didn’t mind her watching you try to paint ripples of light on the water.

“Are you an artist?” she asked.

You shot her a smile. “You’re very sweet, but no. I just started this year.”

You’d just Googled some therapeutic techniques instead of, you know, going to therapy. You just knew that if you did, your aunt would probably tell your parents, who would never let you hear the end of it. Specifically, why it was a waste of time. Your father especially would have something to say.

But one of the sources you found suggested trying out some creative outlets to calm the mind and think productively, but not create more stress for yourself. You’d tried a few different things, but landed on painting. It was working for you so far, even if you didn’t think you were that good.

“How do you like Montana so far?” you asked your companion. “Your dad told me you guys just moved here too, a few months ago.”

“Yeah, when my mom got remarried, my dad moved to stay close to me,” Emily explained.

Your brows raised. Your painting hand paused with the brush near the page.

“Well, that’s a good father,” you said. You smiled at the thought of Beau Arlen. The way he hugged his daughter before, like she was his entire world, and the fact that he’d moved entire states just to stay with her, told you a great deal about the town’s new sheriff.

Emily nodded, but her lips were pressed. “He’s a bit overprotective.”

“Well, he is a cop,” You said, smiling. “I assume that’s just part of the package.”

“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…a bit much sometimes.”

You gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. My dad can be like that too. He’s got his soft moments, but he can be a real tough nut too… He’s a retired fireman.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” Emily said. She looked impressed. “Did you ever want to be a firefighter?”

You chuckled. “No, and he never wanted me to. It just wasn’t my beat, anyway.”

In the many years before your father had risen in the ranks to firehouse chief, your mother had often worried about him when he was on shift. Being a firefighter in inner-city Chicago had brought some hard and dangerous calls.

But you had always been more bookish, and both your parents were grateful for that.

You sighed. Your paintbrush made a stroke of deep green on the page, creating darker shades in the bottom of the lake.

“I did end up dating one though. Almost married him too,” you muttered, before you could stop yourself. You forgot you were talking to an insatiably curious girl.

“Really? What happened?” she asked. You looked over at her, and she was staring at you with her full attention. You remembered then that her podcast was supposed to be about relationships, but you had no desire to be a subject.

“It didn’t work out,” you said at last, and with difficulty.

“Why?” Emily asked.

Your internal struggle kept you quiet. It gave time for Emily to really see the withdrawn, almost pained look on your face, the slight hunch of your shoulders. She deflated guiltily.

“Uh, sorry,” she said.

You offered a small smile. “It’s okay, honey.”

“I’ll uh, just let you get back to painting,” she said. You waved her goodbye after she got up and left, giving you one last look before she joined her stepfather in the lake.

You let out a deep breath. The teen was tenacious, and naturally curious. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing. But as you watched her splash at Avery, laughing that weightless laugh that kids got to have, you realized how much you missed being that young and free in your heart.

Again, out of habit, you set down your brush and rubbed at your empty left ring finger.

Mary finally joined you back in your shared tent after a long night of socializing by the fire. You had kept to the tent, reading Much Ado About Nothing for one of your classes that would start in the fall. It wasn’t your first time reading the Shakespeare play, by any means, but you did want to brush up on it.

“You know, you’re actually supposed to be vacationing on this vacation,” Mary pointed out. She started changing into her pajamas for bed. You were already cozy in one of your old college hoodies and some shorts, not to mention snuggled under the warm blankets.

“I am,” you said defensively. “I hiked, I painted, I ate no less than one burger, a basket of fries, and three smores, and now I’m reading.”

“Yeah, for school,” she pointed out. “I may not be as smart as you, but I know homework when I see it.”

You shot her a smile. “You’re plenty smart, M.”

She snorted and slipped into bed beside you. It felt like the sleepovers you two used to have in college, years ago, when she’d come to crash in your dorm, or you in hers. She’d been a philosophy major (despite not giving two shits about Socrates), forced to attend college by her parents. You were an English major, working three part-time jobs just to get you through until graduation.

“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You turned to her in question. She seemed more serious than usual.

“I’m worried about you,” she said. “And I’m not the only one.”

You sighed. Lowering your book, you leaned back against your pillows and stared up at the tent’s fairy lights.

“I know,” you replied. “But you don’t need to be.”

“Yeah you keep saying that, but you know the real reason I’m here, right?” Mary asked. Her insistent hand on your arm made you meet her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this," she said. "You don’t have to move out here and leave everything behind. You should just come home with me. Your parents, our friends—everyone wants to be there for you, like we have all year.”

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head.

“I’m not going to change my mind. So if that’s really why you’re here, and not to just spend some time with me, as my friend, then you should just go home,” you said. “I’ll leave here and go to my aunt’s house. I’m sure your parents can negotiate some kind of refund.”

Mary got angry and huffy, just like you thought she would. You weren’t playing around though. This was your life, and your decision.

If your friends and your family couldn’t be happy for you, or at least understanding, then they could at least respect you. You just weren’t sure when they’d get the hint that this was real.

You were moving to Montana, permanently.

On the drive back into town from the camping site, Beau ate his chocolate chip muffin and tried his best to listen to Cassie—to her theories on where the backpacker might’ve gone, and how best to tell the parents to keep her on this investigation.

A good part of him was still thinking about his daughter, wishing he could be there with her right now.

And maybe, his mind occasionally wandered…thinking about the pretty shade of your eyes when you smiled at him.

AN: And there we have it, Part 1 of a new series! If you liked it, please let me know! 🥰

And a special Happy Birthday to @jackles010378! 💖 I was going to say we're both Aries (mine is next month) but forgot Pisces comes first lol. ♓

Next Time:

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester

#All of Her Days #Take Me Home #Part 1 #Beau Arlen series #big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #Emily Arlen #cassie dewell #beau arlen x you #Beau Arlen smut #Jensen Ackles characters #big sky season 3 #zepskies writes

350 notes · View notes

endofthelinepal107 · 1 month

Text

sukuna - a deal with the devil pt. 3/3

{a good old-fashioned timeskip. where do you and the king of curses stand a year after your alliance?} 3.6k words

part one + part two + part three

notes: he's even softer, definitely OC sukuna at this point but who cares i'm delusional

warnings: cursing, nudity (no smut)

tags: @missroro + @doodle-cat16

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

"Guess what day it is today."

Sukuna glanced over at you. He was working out on the lounge floor while you were on the phone. He'd figured out a few minutes ago that you were talking to Satoru.

"What? No!" You laughed. "It's mine and Sukuna's anniversary!"

Sukuna stopped at the peak of a push up, eyebrows furrowing. For a split second, he was unsure if he had missed some social cue along the way that should have told him he was courting you. In this modern age, relationships moved much faster than he remembered from during his lifetime. Not that he'd had much experience courting back then, either. He was too busy murdering everyone he saw to bother with anything more personal.

"Our meeting-a-versary!"

Sukuna sighed and went back to his push ups. Phew. He was grateful for that. Not that he would have minded that revelation all that much. He doubted it would change much about your relationship anyway.

"Our dynamic is not weird, 'toru."

Sukuna sat up and leaned back on his hands, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Your dynamic kind of was weird, though. He knew you knew that. Both of you tried pretty hard not to think about it. There was more leniency from the others with him, but not very much. You were still expected to be together all of the time. That meant that, apart from the rare occasions you'd managed to convince Sukuna and someone else to coexist for a few hours so you could go do something private, you had just been together. Sukuna knew you better than people that had known you for years, and you knew things about him that nobody would ever know.

"Ugh, do you have t- No, we don't!" You crossed your arms, pouting at your phone as though Satoru could see you through it. Sukuna watched you with a tiny smile. "What? Well- No, I mean, we do still share a bed, but- No, it's not-" You let out a groan. "Satoru, if you say one more thing about 'kuna, I'm going to hang up the phone." There was a brief pause. Then you leaned forward and hung up. You scowled.

Sukuna cleared his throat. He always liked how he could get your attention so easily now. Not because it made him feel powerful, but because it confirmed that you did care for him like he cared for you, despite the singularity of your situation.

"More questions?" He asked, as though he hadn't been eavesdropping the whole time.

You hummed. "Yeah. They're all so nosy. You'd think by now they'd have.." You trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence. You knew why people had so much to say about your relationship with Sukuna. So did he.

"Learned not to ask?" Sukuna supplied.

You nodded, standing up and pulling a water bottle out of the fridge. "Exactly. Even if they do think it's weird, it's our business, right?" You walked over to him, dropping the bottle in his lap.

Sukuna opened it and chugged half before he stuck his hand out. You helped him up. It was more of a symbolic help because you couldn't shift his body if you tried with all your might. You didn't mind, though. He let you do it and that meant something.

He nodded in agreement to your words, sauntering towards the bathroom. "Should tell them all to fuck off."

You laughed. "Why is that your solution so often nowadays?"

"Because I got him to lower his infinity one time and you still won't let me near him." Sukuna shot you a pointed look, one that was meant to say 'let me beat him up' but really said 'you should stick up for yourself more.' And then he was closing the bathroom door.

You walked into the bedroom, changing into your pyjamas and then settling into the pillows. Satoru's words weren't anything new, but they still rattled around your brain.

You knew it was strange for you and Sukuna to have never stopped sharing a bed. His funds had been in your bank for a long time now. The number was so high that you literally couldn't fathom it. You could've bought a bed. You could've bought a million beds made of gold. Sukuna should've insisted on it; he was the King of Curses, he shouldn't have been sharing a bed with a mere sorcerer. Especially not because of an agreement that was made all that time ago, which barely crossed your mind nowadays.

But you still woke up every morning intertwined. Usually, he was on top of you, his body draped over yours in a way that was simultaneously pulling you closer and keeping anything from disturbing you. And you liked the closeness, just like you knew he liked it, even if neither of you had ever said so.

Sukuna finished in the shower and dried himself off, padding into the bedroom in his robe. He turned off the light and climbed into the bed without a word. He rolled onto his side, reaching out until his hand found your body. His fingers dug into your waist and he gave you a tug towards him.

"Mm." You hummed and shuffled closer, letting him pull you flush against him. His body shifted so that he was partly covering you. You fell asleep.

Nothing disturbed him until the middle of the night. Sukuna opened his eyes enough to see that it was still dark and then snapped them closed again, moving to pull you closer. When he realised his arms were empty, a genuine sense of panic set in.

He took a deep breath, barely stopping himself from lashing out at the closest thing. Blind rage wasn't his style these days. He slowly rose to his feet and made his way through the house, eyes roaming the darkness until he saw you.

You were sitting on the couch, very still. You were nestled into the corner and you looked dazed, but clearly upset. Sukuna walked over and sat beside you.

For a moment, he was unsure of what to do. Even after all this time together, those few minutes before and after sleep were the only ones that held any kind of physical affection. Besides hitting each other, neither of you ever really showed it. Even then, it was usually him hitting you. He liked it, because he liked how you always reacted and he liked the reminder of how he'd learned to soften himself a little so that he could be playful with someone.

When you shuffled over to him and curled into his side, he was surprised. Surprised that he hadn't had time to think of what he was going to do, surprised that it was you that initiated the contact. Surprised that you wanted it.

His hands found your hips and he effortlessly lifted you up, resting you in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around you. He felt you stiffen for a second, just as taken aback as he was by his actions. Then you nestled your face into his neck and held him back.

Sukuna held you in silence for a while. He knew that quiet contact was what you were seeking, so he let you have it. He found himself strangely grateful that he could offer this comfort to you. Knowing someone intimately enough to know what they needed wasn't something he'd ever seen for himself before he knew you, let alone being trusted enough to actually implement it.

"What's wrong?" Sukuna murmured in your ear after a good few minutes had passed.

You sighed, leaning back so that you could see him but stay in his lap. "I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"I found out there's a secret execution out for both of us. I-I was going to tell you in the morning."

Sukuna very nearly laughed. Almost. "That's it? That's all it is?"

You looked at him completely seriously. "I'm not worried that you're going to die, I'm not stupid."

"What, then?" He asked.

You hesitated, then muttered, "I'm scared that they're going to turn their backs on us, and then all of this won't be worth anything to you, and you'll toss it all aside- toss me aside- and I'll lose you. That the agreement won't be important anymore and then none of this time together will matter."

Sukuna was stunned. Genuinely stunned, just like he had been on that very first day he'd met you.

You really cared that deeply about him? And he'd really doubted that you did?

He forced himself to mutter some normal responses.

"I'll kill anyone that tries to touch you, let alone harm a hair on your head. You are stronger than those pathetic sorcerers that would dare to do such a thing. I will split the world into pieces before they get the chance. The entirety of the jujutsu world is nothing compared to the power that you and I hold. You have the force of an empire at your behest, because I will not turn my back on you."

Normal responses for him, anyway.

You listened to him quietly, looking at him as he spoke. Sukuna's words were always slightly alarming, but you'd learned to see the comfort in them. He never lied. You knew that, to him, his strength was the greatest thing he could offer you. And so it was the greatest comfort when he goes on his little murderous tirades the moment you present him with a new target.

In the face of your attentive quiet, Sukuna found himself drifting away from the topic slightly. "It truly astonishes me that, after all that you've done for the jujutsu world, it could still turn its back on you. You have sacrificed so much. I told you it wasn't worth it and that they didn't deserve your energy, yet you continued to prioritise their collective welfare over your own. This is the price that you get for that goodness." His voice grew an edge as he grew more and more angry. "You should be good. I admire that you're good. It infuriates me when that's thrown in your face. It's something I would do, why are those self-righteous sorcerers doing it?"

A look of genuine anger crossed your face. Sukuna stopped talking, unsure of what he said that would make you mad.

"No, 'kuna, that's not the kind of thing you would do," you frowned. "You would never do that. You'd be more inclined to kill me directly. You wouldn't stoop to that low of throwing my effort back in my face, by encouraging people that I know, friends, to kill me."

And then Sukuna was getting angrier. "Don't say that," he growled. "Don't you dare use words like 'kill' and 'you' in the same fucking sentence when you're speaking to me."

Both of you glared at each other like petulant children. Slowly, the silence lengthened and then shifted as you realised that neither of you were angry for an actual reason anymore. Your eyes met his and you realised that he'd come to the same realisation.

You cracked first. You always did when it came to things like this. Despite your best effort to keep pouting, a giggle broke free.

At the first sign of your smile, Sukuna's anger completely disappeared. He was so obviously delighted to see you happy that it made your heart hurt. His arms wrapped around you and he held you close, chin resting on your shoulder.

He was so grateful. Grateful, grateful, grateful.

Your arms wrapped around him too, as tightly as you could. Sukuna always liked it when you held him. That was why you always woke up with him in your arms.

But he only had to pull back slightly to know that you were still upset about the execution. He gazed down at you for a few seconds, and then made his mind up. He would love you. That would make you feel better, if he could just figure out which demonstration of his love was the right one.

When Sukuna thought about how he loved you, he didn't think about telling you in some romantic gesture: I've always loved you, my darling angel. He didn't think about sweeping you off your feet with a kiss, holding your trembling body against his as he pulled soft gasps from your lips. Both thoughts made him smile.

No, that wasn't what Sukuna's love looked like.

He had hold of your hips again. He stood up, with you still attached, then set you on your feet. His hand slid into yours and he pulled you into the kitchen. Without an explanation, he pottered around the small space, pouring out your current favourite drink.

Then, when it was safely in your hands, he found the phone and started to play your music, the songs that he'd noticed you listening to most recently. He watched you like a hawk as you gratefully sipped your drink. But, when you smiled at him, he shook his head.

He turned and switched the oven on, found the cookbook, and tugged you over.

"Bake."

You looked taken aback, but you could see that he was serious, even if you didn't understand why. Dutifully, you began to mix a cookie batter. Sukuna hovered behind you the entire time. When you slid the cookies out of the oven, he switched into his true form, giving you no time to adjust to something you'd only seen a few times in the whole year you'd been together, and sat down on the floor. You were pulled firmly into his lap so that you could comfortably eat your cookie near the heat of the oven.

He watched you, even when you finally noticed how fierce his gaze was and looked up. He let you feed him a piece of your cookie, letting out a pleased hum of approval. Sukuna smiled when that soft interaction made you more happy than the whole process of baking had.

But you weren't better yet.

Sukuna stood up, changing back into his normal form, but keeping you in his arms. He carried you into the bathroom and started to pour out a bath. When he noticed you looking for the soap, he caught your wrist and tugged you to his side.

"Don't do anything."

You were confused, but you did as he asked, watching curiously as he pulled out a small box from the top of the linen closet. "What's that?"

"I was saving it," he murmured, opening it and letting you see inside.

It was full of special shampoos, conditioners, soaps, and bath bombs. He was saving it only partly because he knew a time would come for them. Mostly because he had never figured out quite how to explain that he knew your favourite smells and what would work in your hair or with your skin.

He was so busy checking that everything was fine that it wasn't until he turned to you to ask you to check the water temperature that he realised you were looking at him with something in your eyes that he didn't think he'd ever seen before.

You didn't give him a chance to ask about it. You stepped up to him and gave him a tight hug. He could tell that you were putting as much force into it as you physically could, so he didn't laugh when he effortlessly held you tighter. He held you close until you tipped your head back to look at him.

"Will you help me?"

Sukuna nodded, fingers sliding to your collar. He unbuttoned your shirt deftly, then slid it down your arms. He folded it and put it on the nearest surface, then gently pulled your shorts down your legs. He set that down too. Then he was inhaling the scent of your hair as he leaned over you, his fingers unclasping your bra. He was bending slightly so that he could hook his fingers in your panties and pull them down.

In the back of his mind, it registered that this was the first time he'd ever seen you this exposed. It was the first time he'd touched you here, seen you there. But it didn't really feel like a first time. It felt like this was normal, like it wasn't a big deal for him to do this. Like you had always been his in this way, and he had always been yours in this way.

His warm hands were on you as you climbed into the bath. One on your hip, feeling the curve of your waist, and the other on your wrist, both making sure that you were safe and not in any danger of slipping.

He might have nearly laughed at the prospect of a secret execution coming close to harming you, but the idea of you hurting yourself normally plagues him every day. There've been hundreds of times that he's insisted he use his RCT on you for little scrapes that you've gotten. Hundreds of times that you've had the same discussion where he's insisted that you're careless with yourself and you've said you're just clumsy and he's called you a stupid idiot and you've shut him up with a bright smile and an I've got you to help, though, right?

Sukuna watched you warily as he let go of you. He waited as you slid all the way under the water, staying under for a few seconds before sliding back up. His hands were on your face before you even had a chance to lift your own, thumbs swiping away the water from your eyes and brushing your hair out of your face. When you looked up at him, face clear of water, Sukuna finally looked relieved. This was the thing that helped, then. This was the part of his love that would make you happier and less stressed.

But that wasn't enough for him. He wanted happy, not happier.

He pushed his robe over his shoulders, letting it hang around his waist. Then he walked around behind you, sinking to his knees on the tiled floor. Without a word, he reached for your head, silently insisting on doing your hair for you. Neither of you spoke for a while. He ran the shampoo and conditioner through, then began to brush your hair.

"You've gotten so good at managing it," you mumbled, eyes closed happily.

Sukuna grunted. "Managing what?"

"Your force. It doesn't hurt when you're doing something like brushing my hair, but it used to hurt when you even laid a hand on my arm."

He smiled, glad to hear you say it. He'd already known he had improved a lot, but it felt worth so much more to hear it from your lips.

He finished with your hair. The next step seemed obvious, but he had the awareness that, no matter how intimate this all seemed, he couldn't go further without murmuring something.

Quietly, he said, "I'll bathe your body now."

"Okay."

That soft, mumbled agreement made his heart swell. He rose to his feet and found your hand under the water, pulling you to your feet. You let out a soft protest as he made you stand up in the bath. His warm hands on your skin eased the chill almost right away.

Sukuna focussed incredibly hard. He had to make sure that he did this right, that he treated your body with the reverence he believed it deserved. That his soapy hands graced every part of your soft, blemished skin. That nothing he did hurt you.

And his intense concentration meant that he failed to notice the way that you were watching him again. This time, because you'd recognised the look in his eyes, and you were admiring the way that his hands looked against your skin.

"Happy?" You chuckled after a while. Your teasing voice broke him out of his reverie.

He looked up, smiling slightly. "Yes. Are you?"

"Mhm." You slid back into the water, letting out a content sigh.

Sukuna wasn't really surprised when your hand found his wrist and tugged. Nor, when your pretty lips parted with a soft question.

"Will you get in, Sukuna?"

He nodded. His hand slipped out of yours so that he could loosen his robe and let it fall completely. He nudged you forwards and then climbed into the tub behind you. Sukuna rested his hands on your hips, but he let you be the one to decide whether or not you slid back or not. When you did, he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in your neck.

"D'you want me to wash you?" You asked.

His reply came out like an admonishment. "No, foolish woman. You're the one that needed comforting. Stop trying to do things for everyone else all the time. Be selfish. Have you no self-respect?"

He was lucky that you knew him and his favouritism well enough to just smile over your shoulder at him.

All of the times he'd thought oh, shit to himself converged. He stared at your content smile, at the soft way you looked at him. And everything aligned in his mind and, this time, he just said it out loud.

"Oh, shit."

You looked at him in confusion, then laughed. "What?"

"You're beautiful," Sukuna stated simply. "You fill the gaps that I can't fill myself. You're the one that's meant to be by my side."

When your smile broadened and you leaned back into him again, he didn't mind that it took you a while to reply. He didn't feel nervous. Sukuna knew for certain that you understood him and you understood the weight and sincerity in his words. He didn't have any fear that you were something he could lose this way. The only thing he could lose you to was death, and he'd already begun making sure that wouldn't happen.

When your reply came, it was all he'd really wanted to hear.

"'Sukuna?"

"Mm."

"I love you."

"I know. I love you."

"I know."

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

he's softer than melting ice cream but i can't help it I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!! i hope you guys don't mind sappy sukuna, i'm planning to write something a little less OC soon. that's the final part to this series!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader

112 notes · View notes

harmonictechnicality · 2 years

Text

Eddie’s Memory Log Day 1:

part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 5 here | part 6 here

(ao3 link here)

The only reason Steve volunteers to keep a journal to track Eddie Munson’s skim-milk memories, is because of the twerps.

They have school, they can’t commute to the government-protected hospital that’s all the way in the city. That, and they gave Steve this well-rehearsed, tearjerker performance about how grateful they would be.

About how grateful Eddie would be.

Pfft like shit on a stick, he’ll be grateful. The dude doesn’t even remember how old he is, how the hell is supposed to be grateful for Steve Harrington jotting down notes in binder?

But those kids have been through Spielberg-level disaster shit. Steve has too, but they’re just kids.

So he’ll do it. He’ll do it for them and only them.

Eddie knows his name today.

He’s pissy - he’s always pissy cause Eddie is battered up beyond belief. But still, he’s extra pissy today because Dustin is his favorite visitor and he hasn’t stopped by in almost a week.

Eddie knows Dustin’s name today too.

And guess who’s his least favorite visitor?

“Harrington.” Eddie grumbles, mouth full of lime jello. “Who paid you to be here today?”

Remembers Steve’s name… last name.

“No one.” Steve makes himself comfy in the vinyl armchair. “Call me crazy, but I’m not too big on taking lunch money from sophomores.”

Speaking of which…

“Do you know you know how old you are?”

Eddie crumples the plastic jello container. “You’re a patronizing sack of shit.”

Steve rolls his eyes, starts to write down:

Eddie doesn’t know his age.

“Twenty.”

Eddie does know his age (20).

“Swell.” Steve fakes his amusement. The kids are much better at cheerleading Eddie along in this process. But Steve’s poker face is nonexistent. Sarcasm and assholery occupy every seat in his brain these days.

They go through a few more questions before Eddie begins to get tired. He’s tired a lot, even though the coma knocked him out for almost four months.

Guess holding hands with Death really takes it out of a person.

Eddie doesn’t know his birthday.

But Eddie does remember it’s in the winter (has a memory of seeing leafless trees from an early childhood birthday party).

Eddie remembers his uncle’s name.

Eddie doesn’t remember which street he lives on.

Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).

“I’ll let you rest.” Steve folds the binder shut, sort of desperate to do anything to get Eddie to stop whining. Seriously, he thought this guy was funnier pre-bat attack.

Eddie doesn’t remember he has a sense of humor.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Eddie settles into his pillows.

Steve shrugs, puts his hands behind his head. “I took the bus from Hawkins today. The next one doesn’t leave for another few hours.”

“Still… it’s a city, right? You can go explore or whatever. Be a tourist.”

Yeah Eddie’s persuasive skills aren’t completely back either, it’s all very half-assed.

“Been here before.” Steve lounges deeper into the squeaky chair material. “I’m good.”

“Probably haven’t seen everything is all I’m saying -”

“Do you want me to leave that bad?”

Steve doesn’t shout, but his tone takes up space. Makes the room feel crowded with accusations and cutthroat honesty.

Eddie stares back hard. Sometimes, he doesn’t look like Eddie Munson - he looks like this war victim with knotted-up hair and sulky brown eyes.

Like a John Doe cadaver - tagging his foot with the possibility of Eddie Munson.

Anyways, that’s how he looks right now as he stares at Steve. Barely Eddie.

“Just. I don’t know you.” That’s a shitty ass comeback for someone with a memory-tank that’s perpetually blinking with the low-engine light on.

Eddie continues with his weak argument. “Were we close enough back home that you’d stay here while I sleep?”

Eddie doesn’t remember Steve ignoring him in high school for four years.

Steve finds no reason to lie. “No. We weren’t close at all.”

“Right.” Eddie nods once. “So why do this? What are you getting out of this?”

This is a complicated situation to explain to anyone, let alone to someone with fuzzy comprehension abilities. But Steve gives it a whirl:

“Look, we have mutual friends that are… younger. Dustin’s age. And whether I like it or not, they’re like siblings to me now - I’d do anything for them. But they’re in school, they can’t be here every day like I can.”

“Why can you be here?” Eddie asks.

“I lost my job.”

Eddie attempts sympathy. “Sorry.”

Eh, Steve gives him a B-minus.

“Didn’t like it anyways.” Steve reassure him plainly. “The point, I’m doing this for them. For you too, but they’re the anchors in this.”

Eddie thinks for a moment - readjusts to laying on his side, facing Steve. “Won’t you need a new job eventually?”

“Nah. Trust Fund Baby.” Steve points both thumbs at his chest.

“Yeesh.” Eddie rolls to the other side, away from Steve. Disgusted by his comment, yet still chuckling very quietly.

Okay… Eddie does remember he has a sense of humor (just a teensy bit).

His breathing becomes long and hard - sleep heavy breathing. It doesn’t take long, sleep seems more natural to Eddie right now than being awake.

Steve watches him for a moment. There’s always the ghostly-distant fear that Eddie might stop breathing. He’s done it before - four months ago and once more while he was still at the hospital in Hawkins.

Max is still asleep. Steve hates thinking about that detail because it’s cruel. This twisted game that the universe is playing is truly unjust.

Like an Almighty Asshole rolled Eddie’s stupid dice and decided, ‘I’ll let one of your friends wake up, but he won’t remember that he battled along side you in the trenches of darkness. Take it or leave it, douchebag.’

Steve will take it.

Eddie is still sleeping when Steve decides to head out - the bus will be arriving soon and he’s gotta get a window seat. Needs control over the window cause he gets carsick way too fucking easily these days.

“Heading out?” Eddie mumbles, eyes not even open.

“Yeah - sorry.” Steve doesn’t know why he whispered that. “Didn’t think I should wake you.”

“I gotcha. I’m assuming you’ll be back tomorrow?”

Huh… Steve thinks there might be a hint of implication that Eddie wants him to come back tomorrow. Interesting.

“Your memory isn’t as shitty as you think it is.” He’s overly smug when he says it.

Eddie gives him a closed-lip smile. Only Dustin and Wayne receive those.

“Want me to pick up some food on my way in?” Steve decides to give generosity a try, since Eddie is tolerable enough to give him a smile. “Get you off of this lousy hospital meal-plan temporarily?”

The smile is gone. “Nah, you don’t have to do that.”

Right.

Eddie definitely remembers how to be Stubborn with a capital ‘S’

But Steve is a Trust Fund Baby, so he’s unfazed with difficult behaviors. He can match difficulties all damn day if he wanted to.

Which he does.

“Suit yourself, Munson.” Steve acts so uncaring. Very uppity and douchey. “I’m thinking Chinese takeout for me personally.”

“Cool.”

“Cool. See you tomorrow then.”

There’s a pause, so Steve takes that as his sign to turn the handle, get the hell out of here.

“Steve?” Eddie calls weakly just before he shuts the door behind him.

He cracks it open, peeks his face back in. “Yeah?”

Eddie sighs. “Kung Pao Chicken.”

“Excellent choice.”

Eddie gives him another closed-lip smile.

Steve grins wildly, with all of his teeth. “In fact, I think I’ll do the same.”

And as Steve claims his middle seat on the bus, he pulls the binder back out of his backpack to add one more note for the day:

Eddie remembers that he likes Kung Pao Chicken.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #post s4 au #trying to decide if I should make this a thing or not #I’m not even sure if this is any good so please ignore if it is incoherent #my mind is being cruel today so if it’s bad pretend it never happened 🙂

2K notes · View notes

hotchs-big-hands · 1 year

Text

What did you call me?

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|4.9k words

Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader

NSFW Minors dni please

Warning(s): some angst, yearning, details about graphic crime scenes, strip clubs/sex clubs.

When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.

🌑🌒��🌔🌕🌖🌗��🌑

Hey everyone, welcome to my first fanfic! I used to write and post stuff back in 2018ish but it was a different fandom. I've not written and posted anything tho since then so I'm a bit nervous! But idk I just got back into cm recently and I saw Hotch and my brain was like oh yeah 👁️👁️ (I used to be a Spencer girlie) and I've mostly written stuff for myself but I decided imma start doing stuff on here too! I hope you enjoy and lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future writings 🥰 side note, I'm a fat gal so I will probably centre most of my stuff around plus size readers cuz there's not enough of it for plus size Hotch girlies 😔 but technically anyone can read and enjoy it! This was getting extremely long so I'm splitting it into three parts so here's the first one! Anyway, enjoy 💅

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

The feeling of something blunt lightly bounced against your forehead, making you blink a few times and rub the area with your hand.

"Hey... Who did that?" You grumbled, eyes darting from one face of your coworkers to the next. Three of them all pointed towards the culprit and as your eyes drifted back to him you were met with a cheeky grin on the charming, dark-skinned man's face.

"You were spaced out, sugar." Derek Morgan said. "Got a lot on your mind?"

"Got a lot of him on her mind, more like." A voice cut in smugly, flustering you in an instant, your heart beginning to race. Your eyes flicked to Prentiss, the pristine raven haired woman was smirking at you, her eyes glinting. You squeaked and shifted in your office chair nervously.

"No, Em! Just... couldn't sleep last night."

The weak explanation didn't help, it only widened the smirk on Prentiss' face as she leaned forward.

"Oh? Do tell us more."

"There's nothing to say!" You abruptly turned to the casefile that lay open on your slightly messy desk and tried to ignore the movement at the corner of your eye; Emily was shuffling her chair over to you, no doubt still with that annoying smirk on her face.

"Oh it sure sounds like there is though."

Before you had the chance to defend yourself an all too familiar voice demanded everyone's attention and subsequently caused a shiver to trickle down your spine. Your hands gripped onto your chair.

"My team; in the conference room now. We have a case." Your unit chief spoke. All heads turned to the direction of a slightly elevated walkway where a sharply dressed man stood for a mere moment, locking eyes with yours, before he began walking briskly towards the mentioned conference room.

Fuck. Hotch was wearing your favourite suit and tie today and a few stray wisps of his short, dark hair stubbornly lay over his forehead, no matter how often he must have tried to push them up off his face. Everyday was harder than the previous working with that man. The moment you'd attended your interview months ago, sitting in front of the brooding man, you knew you were fucked. Yes, you had been eager to join the famed BAU unit and were grateful for the opportunity that arose but you'd be lying if another reason you eagerly answered all the questions prompted to you in that interview wasn't because you were instantly attracted to Aaron Hotchner. However, that was almost a year ago now and you were struggling with your growing attraction to the man the more you were around him. Your coworkers and friends certainly were no help, given they'd soon caught onto your crush.

A hand waved in front of your face and you blinked.

"Time to go, lovergirl." Prentiss teased and you sighed, quickly joining the others as they made their way to the case briefing. You needed to focus.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Landing in Chicago a few hours later, the team were thrust into a gnarly investigation involving couples being murdered in their hotel rooms mid-coital. The crime scene photos were hard to look at, to say the least. Setting up a base of operations in the police department didn't take too long and currently you were in the midst of interviewing family members of the deceased along with Hotch at his insistence. It wasn't often that you took part in these interviews, even less often did Hotch ever team you up with him. Quite frankly, it made you feel a little nervous, but there was no way you'd question his decision. And certainly, you did not miss the subtle smug look Emily gave you as you trailed after the man you thought about way too much.

Sitting beside him in the SUV, just the two of you alone made your head feel a little bit floaty as you tried your best to remain as stoic as possible, reminding yourself of the details of the case so far and of the little bits of information from the families you'd spoken to. Even with the effort there was no preventing the permeating scent of his cologne and a hint of his own natural musk from scrambling your brain. He smelled good, too good, and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel from the quick glances you dared peek developed a heat to coil within the depths of your lower abdomen.

"Are you alright?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts. You felt flushed.

"H-huh?" You felt dumbstruck, all because of him. He exhaled through his nose sharply, clearly dissatisfied with your response.

"You're distracted."

Oh. Of course he could pick up on it. You shifted in your seat, subtly rubbing your plump thighs together.

"I'm okay, I guess I've not had enough to drink today though. I'll get some water when we head back to the station." Not a lie, technically. You'd forgotten your bottle of water you normally had ready to fill up to take on cases. Hotch hummed, the sound deep and making you clench between your thighs.

"I did notice you didn't have your water like you usually do. I should have said something." He said. Wait, he noticed? You didn't think he picked up on things about you, he didn't often appear to pay attention to you besides on a strictly professional level. But as you turned your head to him in surprise his brows were furrowed in frustration, as though annoyed with himself for not saying anything.

"Oh no, it's fine. I've been a bit of a scatterbrain as of late." You admitted sheepishly, a little smile on your lips. Hotch glanced at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your breath hitch.

"Anything I can do to help?"

You bit your lip, your mind flooded with a whole array of thoughts that you knew you shouldn't be having about your boss. He didn't know he was the reason you were so distracted, desperate to feel his lips on yours, on your body and his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you. Fuck. You needed to get it together, for goodness' sake. You quickly glanced back towards the road.

"Ah, no. I'm okay, sir. I'll sort myself out." You murmured, missing the way his knuckles whitened under the pressure of his grip on the wheel.

"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."

You tried not to think of what you wanted him to do to you, instead humming in response.

"Thank you, sir."

You needed to get out of this damn car as soon as possible.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Immediately upon returning to the station you rushed off to find a vending machine so you could grab a bottle of water. As soon as you had your hands on the cold, plastic bottle you were gulping down the cool liquid, not realising just how flushed you felt.

"Whoa, slow down there, (L/n)!" You heard JJ's voice from behind you and you turned, pulling the bottle from your mouth wide-eyed. The blonde woman looked slightly alarmed. "Are you okay?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. I just forgot to bring water so I kinda got a bit dehydrated I think." You explain quickly. JJ frowned a little.

"You'd better be careful next time. And don't drink too quickly, you could accidentally choke."

You smiled sheepishly under her scolding and screwed the lid back on.

"Sorry, I'll drink slower."

JJ led you back to the office where you found the familiar sight of Spencer pouring over a map of the area. Pieces of string had been wrapped around pins indicating the last locations victims were seen and the scenes of their murders, no clear pattern in sight as there sometimes was. On one of the tables lay several empty paper coffee cups, a few rings of spilled coffee staining the surface top. He was speaking quietly to another member of the team, David Rossi, and Hotch; of whom stood beside the young Doctor with his arms folded across his chest, inevitably tightening the suit over his physique. You forced yourself to focus on the map.

Not long after your arrival you heard two sets of footsteps trudge into the room.

"No employees or frequent customers that are of note. We have nothing." Derek huffed as he made his way over to one of the chairs and slumped down into it. Emily joined you and JJ, her face appeared neutral but you could tell there was a hint of annoyance behind it. You heaved a deep sigh and felt eyes on you which made you instinctively seek out who it was, only to be startled when your eyes met deep brown ones, almost black in the artificial lighting. Hotch didn't look away, instead holding your gaze until you quickly turned away, feeling embarrassed.

"There has to be something that connects them all." Rossi said. Your eyes drifted across the map, narrowing a little. There had to be a mutual place that all these couples had been to in the final week leading up to their deaths. Somewhere that couples who enjoy sexual relations more than the average couple would go. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and quickly scrolled through your contacts until you found the one you were looking for. As you pressed dial you put the call on loudspeaker it merely rang once before there was an answer.

"Hello, you've reached the hotline for the simply fantabulous Penelope Garcia; how may I assist you?" A bubbly voice filtered through. All eyes were on the phone as you placed it on the table in front of you.

"Hiya, babe, I have a request for you. We're trying to find a link between the couples but so far nothing has cropped up. But I have a theory," you spoke, feeling a little awkward at what you were about to say. "Uhm, do you think you could try search for any strip clubs or even straight up sex clubs in the area? Easily accessible or possibly a more hidden club?"

You could feel his eyes on you again but you tried hard to stare at the phone. Garcia gasped from the other end of the line, but the sound of nails on a keyboard reassured you she was already on the case. Beside you, you felt Emily poke you and you lightly shoved her with your wide hip.

"Oh wow, I did not think I would be looking at this sort of thing today. But lucky you, I have a whole list of places! I-" there was clicking, followed by another gasp. "Oh my! That is certainly a homepage! You have no idea about the things I'm seeing right now, well, I mean I'll be sending these to you anyway but gosh! I'm going to do a thorough clean of my history once this case-"

"-Garcia, focus." Hotch said firmly and you heard a quick apology from the other end of the line. He moved to lean over the table, propping himself up with his hands as he took charge of the phone call. "We need security footage from these locations. Whatever you can give us, we'll take it."

More clacking of nails, you tried not to stare at your boss as he leered over your phone, forcing yourself to look away from his straining suit, the dangling tie, his large hands. Horrifically, you instead met eyes with the oldest of the group, Rossi, who had clearly caught you ogling Hotch from the glint in his experienced eyes and the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Shit. You could only hope no one else had witnessed your blatancy. Thankfully, Garcia's voice came through again.

"I'm sending over whatever footage I can find as well as the addresses to the establishments now."

You reached across the table, hyper aware of how close you were to Hotch as you took hold of your phone. He studied you carefully when you hurried backwards, swallowing thickly. You cleared your throat.

"Thanks, babe, you're a star." You said.

"Well of course, I'm your star." Garcia responded cheerily and the line went dead. Hotch straightened up and pulled his suit back into place, turning to address everyone.

"We need to review the footage and find out which location all the victims visited at some point within the last few weeks, then we can make a plan of action." He was stern as he spoke, hands in his pockets and his shoulders squared. There was a mutual noise of agreement from everyone and you all split into smaller groups around the monitors in the room. Hotch disappeared off to find the chief of police and you couldn't help but let your eyes follow him as he rushed out of the room, eyes transfixed on the tight fabric of his dress pants.

"Girl, you aren't even hiding it." You heard Derek say and you huffed, walking over to Spencer and sitting down next to him. He offered you an awkward smile and shuffled his chair to the side so you could get closer to the computer he was working on.

"Shut up, Derek." You muttered and he chuckled.

"I'm just saying, you should probably talk to him."

Your eyes widened in horror.

"Excuse me?"

Spencer cleared his throat.

"I agree, It's a bit obvious that he's interested in you too." He said softly and you huffed, shuffling your chair closer to the table and leaning towards the computer screen.

"Stop saying ridiculous things like that, both of you. We have work to do anyway."

Derek stepped back with his hands raised in surrender before retreating back to the computer he was situated at whilst Spencer simply watched you carefully, frowning a little.

It was dangerous for you to even dare think of such things. There were so many reasons why you couldn't let your mind go there. If not for the ethical reason due to his and your job statuses, then maybe because he was much older than you with a son. But also you'd seen photos of his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend and you certainly didn't look like his type. Not slender, not sleek like they were. You didn't think he was a shallow man but you'd also dealt with disappointment after disappointment with how others had treated you based on your appearance. You had to keep yourself safe, so your attraction for your boss would remain nothing more than a secret from him. You sighed softly as the young man beside you clicked on the first video footage from one of the private sex clubs. There was no more time to waste.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

The following few hours were downright miserable, viewing video, after video of footage from various clubs until you felt as though your eyes and your brain would melt out of your head. Finally, however, Emily made a noise of alarm, mouth full of cheap coffee, and alerted everyone to her computer. Swallowing the burning, bitter liquid, she retracted the footage a little and replayed it.

"Look, It's the Smiths! The first couple to be murdered. They came in to this very exclusive private sex club at the end of last month." She said hurriedly. In the slightly fuzzy camera quality indeed the couple waltzed into the lobby of the facility and approached the reception desk.

"Fast forward the feed." You heard Hotch say, causing goosebumps to bristle across your skin. You knew he had returned at some point but didn't expect him to stand right beside you. Someone made a call to Garcia and she confirmed with her database that it was indeed the couple. Further analysis of the footage from days afterwards showed that every single of the other couples had also been to this sex club too shortly before they were murdered. And yet they had no indication still of who was the murderer.

The day was drawing in at this point but as a final task before anyone would return to the hotel, Hotch sent out Morgan and Prentiss to the club to ask some questions, something that you couldn't help but chuckle at. The raven haired woman narrowed her eyes slightly at you.

"Laugh all you want but I'd be careful if I were you." She warned but you simply smirked.

"Don't have too much fun now, you two." You said cheerily, Morgan raised a brow at you and then the two were off begrudgingly. You felt JJ sidle up beside you.

"You know she will get you back." She murmured and you shrugged.

"She doesn't scare me."

"She scares me a little." Spencer said aloud, causing the two of you to turn your heads in his direction. He flushed, ducking his head slightly. "I- uh, well you know how she is."

"I wouldn't think you were intimidated by her, Spence, I mean you're the one who won the prank war with Morgan." JJ said, chuckling. A small smile tugged at his mouth.

"I wouldn't cross Emily, though."

You hummed and pushed up out of your chair.

"Well anyway, either of you want a hot drink?" You offered. JJ smiled.

"Oh no, thank you." As Spencer opened his mouth to respond she lifted a finger up at him. "Ah- you definitely don't need anymore coffee at this time of day."

A quiet giggle passed your lips and you turned to head to the kitchenette of the station.

"I'm not getting involved."

Walking out of the office you crossed the police department, avoiding any officers who still remained within the building, and came to a pause in the entryway of the kitchen, dipping away from the doorway out of sight. The two oldest members of the team were in a deep conversation, Hotch with his back to the door and Rossi facing the direction you were in. They spoke quietly, you knew you shouldn't listen in and yet you couldn't help it.

"Stop being absurd. What makes you think I'd even consider doing that?" Hotch hissed, his voice barely audible from where you were.

"Come on, Aaron, you can't keep this going forever. You know that." Rossi countered. There were more words said but were too quiet for you to decipher. That was until Hotch spoke a little louder again, sounding more frustrated.

"I am not currently wishing to be involved with anyone like that, Dave. I just can't."

In an instant you felt your heart in your throat, your eyes stinging.

Oh.

You felt stupid. Of course he wasn't interested in dating anyone. Even despite closely guarding your feelings for Hotch to be nothing further than a personal crush that he would never find out about it still hurt knowing you never had a chance to begin with.

Walking a few steps away from the kitchen, you made a point of entering the kitchen area, feigning surprise as your eyes landed on the two men in the room. Clearly, your entrance startled them, particularly him, who looked a little guilty before the slight expression glossed over with stern stoicism. Hotch glanced away, turning to Rossi.

"I'll see you at the hotel." He muttered and then he was brushing past you, his hand grazing your arm slightly and his scent consuming your senses. And then he was gone, all that remained was the slight coolness of his absence. You swallowed thickly but tried to mask your emotions from the seasoned agent still remaining.

"Coffee? There's some left still, maybe enough for one last cup." Rossi said softly. You smiled slightly as you approached him but shook your head.

"Ah no, thank you. I'm going to have tea. It's way too late for coffee, don't you think?"

The man hummed, watching you carefully. You suspected he had seen you earlier, that you'd heard the conversation but you didn't feel like talking about it.

"I hope you know that if you ever need someone to lend an ear that I'm always willing to listen."

Your hands faltered slightly during sorting out putting a tea bag in a clean mug. Your eyes flicked to the side at Rossi briefly.

"I know that."

"I know you heard what you think you heard but-"

"-Let's not- We aren't talking about this." You cut him off shakily, stopping yourself before you poured the hot water into the mug. "There's nothing to say about it."

You turned away from the kitchen counter to lean against it, rubbing your tired eyes with your palms. Rossi sighed quietly.

"You didn't catch the whole conversation." He tried after a moment. You scoffed.

"It wasn't for me to hear. I only did so by accident. I'm not going to read into it because the only people who were meant to hear what was discussed was you and-" Your throat felt tighter still, an unseen coil constricting you, just as the man you longed for constricted your heart and soul. You didn't say his name, couldn't. Mercifully, the man before you understood.

"I know."

You nodded. The mug of tea wasn't appealing anymore; the quiet promise of solitude in a hotel room called to you more than all else.

"I.... I think I need to call it a night. I don't feel well."

Rossi placed a hand on your upper arm and squeezed lightly.

"I'll inform the others and grab your stuff then I'll drive you to the hotel we're staying in," he fished out the keys to one of the SUVs and handed them to you, the metal clinking together. "Go, wait in the car for me." He said. The corners of your mouth tilted upwards in appreciation and you hurried out, eager to have even a moment to yourself.

The moment you pushed the doors of the building open and stepped outside you exhaled, grimacing slightly at the still, warm air of the night. You'd hoped it would have cooled down more, now that the sun had long since settled behind the horizon, but you felt stifled, the heat doing nothing to soothe the tightness in your throat and chest. Breathing shakily, you unlocked the car and climbed into the passenger seat, laying your head back against the head rest.

There was no reason for you to feel so upset about this. It wasn't as though you intended on ever approaching your boss about your ever growing feelings for him, you wouldn't dare do that. And yet you felt almost physically sick from heartbreak and the worst part was he didn't even know the pain you were in. Hell, you didn't even know where he was right now after he rushed out of the kitchen.

You knew the moment Rossi obviously had retrieved your belongings judging the way your phone had begun to vibrate from text notifications, no doubt from your coworkers. You'd answer them when you made it to the hotel, you decided. A few minutes later you spotted the older man exit the station and approach the car you were in, your bag and coat in hand. The sight made you smile even the tiniest bit, something that he noticed. You felt the car jolt a little as he opened the trunk so he could put your belongings down and jolt again when he slammed it lightly. A second later he was climbing in on the driver's side where you held out the car keys to him.

"Thanks." He took the keys and inserted them into the ignition, the engine roaring to life and you slipped your seatbelt on. Rossi glanced at you. "Let's get you to the hotel. Best thing about this is if there aren't enough rooms for one each you can have first pick on if you want the single or not." He said as you pulled out the station parking lot. You scoffed.

"Oh you know I'm absolutely taking the single this time." You retorted. In any other scenario you would have risked sharing a room, risk being paired with him. Now the thought made you want to cry. Your little smile faded and you turned your head to the window, resting on the cool glass. Sensing you were finished talking, Rossi didn't say anything else for the remainder of the drive.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

A little groan escaped your lips when you collapsed backwards on the single bed in your hotel room, exhaustion overrunning your very being from the long day. For a moment you simply lay there silently, staring at the dulled white ceiling whilst your mind raced. You knew this wasn't ideal, you couldn't let yourself be distracted from the case.

Huffing, you remembered that you needed to respond to messages to let the others know you would be alright by the morning. After pulling your phone out of your pocket, the screen lit up and your eyes flicked across the notifications on the lock screen. Lots of messages from your worried coworkers. You unlocked the phone and set about answering them one-by-one. JJ and Emily offered to stop by your hotel room to check in on you, not knowing you'd been feeling unwell up until this point, but you reassured them you would be okay.

Just as you finished your nightly routine and pulled the covers back, there was a knock on your door. Your brows furrowed slightly. Who would be knocking at this time? Sighing, you approached the door and leaned close to the peephole, expecting to see one of the ladies or maybe even Rossi.

Standing tensely with his shoulders squared was Aaron Hotchner. A quiet gasp escaped you and you jolted backwards from the door. What the fuck was he doing here?! With shaky hands, you pulled the door open and slightly covered yourself with it, hyper aware of your clothing situation. Hotch perked up and stared down at you.

"Rossi informed me that you weren't feeling well and had to retire early." He murmured gently, his face stern. You swallowed and silently invited him into your room by stepping back, pulling the door with you. He cautiously walked into your hotel room and you closed the door behind him, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to cover your body up. Why, oh why did you have to wear shorts that barely covered your ass and an old tee that wasn't as baggy anymore from being washed one too many times?

You cleared your throat and avoided looking in Hotch's direction.

"He's right. But I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow though."

You offered a little smile, eyes flicking to his face and realised he was staring. Except he wasn't staring at your face, no, his eyes were focused lower down at your chest. Christ. You quickly looked away again before he realised you'd caught him out and he hummed, the sound making you clench.

"What's wrong?"

Oh no. You couldn't answer that. Your eyes met his and you opened your mouth, hesitating with no response to give.

"I.... Just felt sick, that's all. I'll be okay though."

You never were good at hiding how you were really feeling, the deepening frown on the man's face before you merely evident of this.

"Are you certain? You can tell me anything, you know that." He said softly as he stepped closer to you. You nodded and tried smiling again at him.

"I know, sir. I promise I'm alright though." You tightened your arms around yourself until your flesh dipped under the pressure of your fingertips. Hotch's eyes trailed over you from head to toe, clearly unsatisfied with your reluctance to tell him the truth, but didn't push the matter further. You inhaled as he stepped closer still, his scent once more overwhelming you. His fingers flexed at his side as though he was conflicted and you wished he would reach out and touch you. Eventually, he sighed quietly and retreated a step.

"Alright. But I will be keeping an eye on you now."

Not good. You nodded though, then yawned and your cheeks flushed with warmth. Despite the tension, a small smile tugged at Hotch's mouth.

"You should get some rest." He said. You chuckled.

"Yeah, you as well though. I know what you're like."

He raised a brow at you.

"Really now?"

Your eyes widened and you stuttered.

"W-well I'm just saying, you do leave the office last, you're up earlier than everyone else too-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to dig your hole any deeper. You dared a quick glance his way and he was still slightly smirking.

"Get some rest, your boss is going to be up early again tomorrow to call everyone in."

A little chuckle escaped you and you followed Hotch to the door, grabbing the door as he opened it and hiding behind it again as you watched him make his way out into the corridor. He turned back to you and gazed down at you again.

"Good night, (L/n)." He murmured. Your eyes met and you gripped onto the door.

"Good night, sir."

He shifted, as though debating something in his head, then he turned and stalked down the corridor. You didn't close your door until he disappeared from sight. When you returned to your bed you collapsed down onto it whilst your mind raced. That night your dreams were filled with forbidden touches and kisses from the man you loved.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

And that's part one for now pls lemme know what you think and if anyone wants to be tagged in future works! Thank you for reading 💖💖

#a writes #a's writing #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size!reader

894 notes · View notes

hisui-dreamer · 1 year

Note

Hi! I saw your headcanons where we tickle the boys and thought if I could ask for the reverse? They tickling the mc (no need to specify the gender, so everyone can feel comfortable reading ^ - ^)

{explaining better}

MC/Yn doesn't pay any attention to them, so they decide to get revenge.

attention, please?

Characters: Dorm Leaders (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus)

Synopsis: A few days after your tickle attack, your lover finds you awfully distracted by your phone, and it seems he feels a bit neglected. What better way to get your attention than with the taste of your own medicine?

Tags: tickling, fluff, slight hurt much comfort, reader is ticklish, reader is kinda obsessed with Magicam, bot proofread

Word count: 2.3k+

Notes: Thank for your ask! This post is the part 2 of this post. Thank you @shinmon-c for providing me with expert advice in Riddle's part!

Part 1 ✧ Vice Dorm Leader Vers ✧ Masterlist

the two of you planned a study date at ramshackle

Riddle was worried about your grades and volunteered to tutor you

but when he arrives, he finds you completely engrossed in your phone, scrolling at the latest trends on Magicam

he clears his throat, trying to get your attention, but you didn't even look up

"Really? You can't even put that thing down for two seconds to talk to me?" he says, his voice laced with irritation

he’s internally cursing cater for setting a bad example

you ignore him to the point that scolding you had absolutely no effect

then he resorts to tickling, it worked for you last time, didn’t it?

and bonus! he gets to hear you laugh!

so after feeling neglected by you for far, far too long, he reaches out to return the tickle attack

he’s mad, upset, and he’s relentless, his fingers dancing along your sides and under your arms

don’t think he’s forgiven you now that your attention is on him

he demands an apology and some comfort in the form of your affection

did you really not want to talk to him that much?

scolds you for spending too much time on your phone, but his tone is soft and he just really cares for you

now, let’s get to studying so you can make him proud, okay?

Riddle finally relents, standing back and crossing his arms. "Well, maybe if you weren't always on your phone, you would have noticed me trying to talk to you. I just want to spend time with you, my rose, but it feels like you don't care," he said, his tone softer now, a visible pout on his lips.

He flushes as he finds that his initial reaction may have been a bit childish. "My rose, I want us to be able to enjoy each other's company without any distractions," he says, feeling a bit vulnerable in admitting how clingy he is.

He nods, grateful for your understanding. "Thank you, love. I appreciate it. Let's put our phones away and get to studying, okay?" he says softly as he offers you a small smile, feeling happy to have your attention once again.

you promised to spend time with Leona in the botanical gardens, and he’s keeping himself awake just for you

but here you are, on your phone, basically ignoring him

as each second passes as you continue to scroll mindlessly through Magicam, you’re completely oblivious to his growing irritation

he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily, "ugh, you sure love that thing, don't ya?" he mutters

and you had the audacity to not respond, too engrossed in whatever you were reading

really it would have been better if you were ranting or scolding him about his laziness

grumpy lion is now extra grumpy

how are you more interested in your phone when he is right in front of you??

for shame

if you won’t show him attention, he’ll make you

he lunges forward and starts tickling you without warning, digging his fingers into your sides and armpits

you yelp in surprise, dropping your phone and trying to wriggle away from his touch

keyword: try

this man’s strength is not something to be underestimated, he holds you in place for his attack

lions always give their all when hunting, even if the target is just a rabbit

he grins as you try to push him away, enjoying the way you wriggle and laugh under his touch.

when he finally stops, he has such a smug grin on his face, feeling so damn pleased that he had gotten your attention.

"Oi, herbivore, pay attention to me," Leona teased, tickling you even harder. "I’ll show you I'm way more interesting than that thing."

"Now, we'll see if you dare ignore me next time," he huffs, smirking.

You pant for air, looking up at him with a mix of annoyance and amusement, but he only shrugged, "I did ask," he says, smugness dripping in his tone. "But you weren't listenin', so I took matters into my own hands." He sits back, feeling satisfied that he’s gotten you so dishevelled. "That's better," he chuckles, pulling you into his arms gently, in stark contrast to his touch earlier.

it’s a slow day in mostro lounge and Azul finally has some time to spend with his wonderful lover

but you were sitting on the couch in the office, too busy on your phone to properly respond to his questions

this sends octopus boi into a panic

is it because he was too busy? is it because he scammed your friends? do you hate him now???

okay Azul, deep breaths, calm down

"Angelfish, are you upset at me?" he asks tentatively

you barely look up from your phone, murmuring a quiet "hmm? no?" before returning to whatever is on screen

he feels a bit annoyed, he’s incredibly greedy for your attention after all

you should always return what you borrow, so it’s only fair that he gets to tickle you for attention

he leans over and begins to tickle your sensitive spots, making you jump and drop your phone

when you look up you see his flushed cheeks and he’s pouting

but now that you’re focused on him, he pulls you into his lap, holding you tight

it’s almost like he’s trying to wrap all of his limbs around you to hold you in place

he’s a bit embarrassed about his childish antics, but desperate times call for desperate measures

and you can’t get more desperate when your beloved angelfish refuses to pay attention to you

also remember to reassure him that yes, you love him, or else the thought won’t leave his mind

Azul snuggled into your neck, feeling much better now that he had your attention. "Is your phone that interesting? Angelfish, won’t you give me some attention too? You're supposed to be my lover, not your phone's lover."

"I know I’m sometimes too busy with work, but I truly care for you… No, of course there’s no catch! What sort of lover do you think I am?" He pulls back, looking very offended.

"What would you like to do now? I’m feeling benevolent, so I’ll let you choose," he huffs, smugly pushing his glasses. "I’m fine with anything as long as your attention is solely on me."

the two of you are hanging out, spending some time together after a hectic week

he’s sooo happy you’re with him, he leans in to give you a soft kiss on your temple

but when he tries to snuggle up to you, he realises you’re not paying attention at all, just endlessly scrolling through Magicam

he pouts a little, trying to talk to you, but you only give him short, distracted answers

he’s determined if not anything, he peeks over your shoulder and watches your phone with you like, "what are you looking at??"

he’s content like this for a while, but eventually he wants to be the center of your attention

oh! he’ll tickle you like you did to him last time!

with his mind set, he reaches over and starts tickling your sides, just like you had done to him the day before.

you yelp in surprise, bursting into laughter as you try to push him away

but this man is so persistent, you’re laughing and it makes him laugh with you

unfortunately for you, this means he’ll continue tickling you until both of you run out of breath, gasping for air

he’ll hold you close and nuzzle closer to you, beaming at your attention now

you can’t even get mad at him; he looks so glad to have you look at him

Kalim stopped tickling you and leaned in to plant kisses all over you. "I just wanted to remind you that I'm here too. I love spending time with you, but I feel like I'm competing with your phone sometimes," he says, looking into your eyes.

"See, now that I have your attention, we can talk and spend some time together, ahaha!" he says, nudging you playfully.

He smiled, feeling relieved that he finally had your full attention. "Oh oh! Do you wanna dance with me? I’ll teach you all the steps! Or if there’s something you want to do, just tell me!" he said, snuggling up next to you.

as a world-famous actor, your boyfriend has an incredibly busy schedule and unfortunately, he doesn’t get to spend as much time with you as he likes

so when you and Vil are relaxing in his room on a rare day off and he’s eager to spend some quality time with you

but you’re completely engrossed in your phone? barely paying him any attention???

he feels a twinge of irritation but he holds back the scowl to prevent wrinkles on his forehead

"Darling, are you listening to me?" he asks, waving his hand in front of your face

but you reply absentmindedly, still scrolling through your phone.

granted you’re scrolling through fanpages of your incredibly gorgeous boyfriend, but still, how could those edits compare to the real thing???

he’s jealous of himself and the best solution of course is to give you a taste of your own medicine

once your focus shifts to him and you start protesting between giggles, he’ll stop

after all, he wouldn’t want his dearest to have too many wrinkles either, this was more about getting even with you

once he stops, he’ll start scolding you about your screen time

but now that he has your undivided attention, it’s time to start your spa day

"I'm trying to get your attention," Vil says with a mischievous grin. "You've been staring at your phone for far too long, and I want some quality time with my beautiful lover." You roll your eyes, but you can't help but laugh at his sudden playfulness.

"Darling, you've been spending a lot of time on your phone lately," he says, his voice softening. "I'm just worried about your eyesight, and the strain that it might be putting on your eyes. Make sure to take breaks and be mindful of your screen time, okay?"

He smiles triumphantly, feeling a sense of satisfaction at your attention. "Now," he said, taking your hands into his, "how about we spend some quality time together, without any distractions?"

Idia comes to visit you (the shock, the horror, the otaku has left his room!!!) to spend more time with you, but when he arrives, you’re completely absorbed in your phone, barely acknowledging his presence because of some trend on Magicam

he’s hurt, was he not interesting enough to hold your attention???

it was the perfect time for revenge after your tickle attack the other day

he pounced on you, tickling mercilessly, "pay attention to me! I'm way more interesting than your stupid phone!"

it was super effective!

those gamer reflexes make his fingers insanely quick and nimble

you laugh and squirm, asking him to stop

but oh what’s this? he’s really enjoying the feeling of power and control? uh oh.

honestly he probably only stops when you kick him a bit too hard when you try to push him away

okay maybe he deserved that for not stopping, but ouch

still, satisfied with his revenge, he stops tickling you and smirks at you catching your breath

he invites you to play a chill co-op game once you’ve regained your composure

okay mayybe he had overreacted earlier, but hey! he put in the effort to get out of his room to hang out with you in ramshackle!

he deserves some attention from you for his bravery

Idia chuckles, feeling victorious. " That's right, you better pay attention to me. I'm the boss monster you can't ignore! Meh heh heh..."

"Hrk! What the heck? You're like Chun-Li with that kick!" he complains, rubbing his sore leg.

Idia finally relents, feeling a sense of satisfaction from the tickle battle. "Okay, I'll give you a break for now. But next time, I'll be ready with my secret tickling combo moves! Now, let’s conquer this game together and unlock all the achievements!"

it’s perfect weather for your nightly stroll but when he arrives at ramshackle, he notices that you were too absorbed in your phone to even acknowledge him

honestly, what was the appeal of staring at a small screen???

he’s pouting and a bit annoyed but your lover is very patient so he’ll wait until you’re done

…waiting…

"Child of Man, does that piece of metal truly interest you more than I do?"

grows increasingly frustrated with your lack of attention, he tries to start conversations, but all his attempts are met with short, distracted responses

okay, he’s had enough.

well last time you tried to tickle him to get his attention, so that means it’s an effective solution, right?

thinks back to your attempts at tickling him, and mirrors your actions, wriggling his fingers at several spots until you’re laughing uncontrollably

once you ask him to stop, he’ll relent, though the grin on his face is incredibly triumphant

your lover is very gentle, and he’ll immediately rub your back with soothing touches as you gasp for air

but now beware, he’s learned how to tickle you, and he can easily get your attention anytime he wants it now

oh well, too late for regrets now, he’s buzzing with excitement for your walk

Malleus chuckles softly and finally relents, pulling back and offering his hand to help his lover up. "Heh, I just wanted your attention," he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

He smiles, pleased that he had managed to lighten the mood. "Now, shall we go for a walk outside in the gardens? It's a beautiful day. I heard there are some rare constellations in sight right now."

He beams when you put your hand in his. "My dear Child of Man, I wish your attention was on me more often… I find it unbearable when you ignore me." He says, deep in contemplation.

Part 1 ✧ Vice Dorm Leader Vers ✧ Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

2K notes · View notes

lilirari · 10 months

Text

𐙚 ⋆୨୧˚ A SKY FULL OF STARS ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. summary : lando attends a k-pop concert for the first time and ends up falling in love with a certain member of the group

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. pairing : lando norris x fem! k-pop idol! reader

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. faceclaim : huh yunjin of le sserafim

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. author's note : ah yes, lando norris, my favourite bri'ish papaya boy. i wanted to post this on his birthday but i couldn't get the time to finish it T_T anyways i hope this will at least take everyone's mind off from that clown show earlier today (las vegas gp) for even a second & let's all be grateful that lando's ok :( <3

le_sserafim

liked by yourinstagram, 39saku_chan, lilymhe and 905,127 others

le_sserafim 2023 LE SSERAFIM TOUR ' FLAME RISES ' IN BANGKOK ANNOUNCEMENT #LE_SSERAFIM #FLAME_RISES

view all 10,087 comments

yourinstagram 🤍

lilymhe my girls !!!!

liked by yourinstagram

user01 ariana what are you doing here

user03 lily's a fearnot and she's met them a couple of times. iirc, she and yn are friends now.

user01 omg i never knew that ??? we stan these queens & their friendship !!!

user05 ahhh they're finally coming to my hometown !!!

user07 i just know they're going to slay like they always do <3

user09 let's gooooooo !!!!!! 🫶

user11 we're getting sour grapes live 🥹🥹🥹

user13 streets are saying that y/n's going to perform a solo song 🤭

user15 yoooo what ??? fr ???

user17 an original or a cover ?

user13 most likely an original 🥹 she has been spending a lot of time in the studio lately.. even her most recent post is of pictures she took while she was in the studio so she's probably working on a new solo song

user17 shut uppppp i can't wait now !!

view more comments

alex_albon 5 hours ago | yourinstagram 20 minutes ago

seen by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, pierregasly and 5,129,383 others

landonorris 📍 bangkok, thailand

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 7,123,456 others

tagged alex_albon, georgerussell63, lilymhe, carmenmmundt

landonorris hello hello bangkok

view all 500,540 comments

alex_albon lando norizz strikes again

landonorris YOU'RE JUST BEING A HATER BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT AS COOL AND AS GOOD-LOOKING AS ME

alex_albon maybe i'm not but at least i got enough rizz to pull a girl 🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris ... i hate you

oscarpiastri looking good, mate 🧡

danielricciardo sorry for not being able to join you guys, mate 😞

landonorris i miss you mate 😢

danielricciardo miss you too. it's during times like this when i feel really bad, y'know. you really need to get yourself a partner, mate. i can't stand seeing you all alone 😭

landonorris working on it ✊

charles_leclerc please find a girl for him there alex_albon

user02 not lando third-wheeling two couples 😭

user04 not the drivers telling lando to get a girlfriend when i'm literally right here

user06 lando doesn't need a girlfriend. he has oscar.

user10 aren't you guys on vacation ? why's george wearing a merc t-shirt 💀

mercedesamgf1 because he's a dedicated and hard-working man. the work grind never stops !!! 🔥💪

carmenmmundt told you everyone would notice georgerussell63 🧍🏻‍♀️

georgerussell63 sorry love 🥲 should've listened to you 😞

user12 if lily attends the le sserafim concert, there's a high chance that lando and y/n might meet 😍

user14 wtf is a le shrimp fin

user16 i get it that y/n and lily are friends but why would lando even attend a k-pop concert ? he doesn't have any interest in k-pop

user18 ^^^^ plus why are you shipping y/n and lando, op.. they don't even know each other.. this is on another level of delusional

user12 mark my words y/n and lando will meet each other at the concert and fall in love

user20 .. this is the real life, not a wattpad fanfiction or a k-drama, weirdo.

view more comments

lilymhe 1 hour ago | yourinstagram 30 minutes ago

seen by alex_albon, carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes and 1,127,890 others

yourinstagram

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, bbrightvc and 15,129,283 others

tagged 39saku_chan, _chaechae_1, zuhazana, hhh.e_c.v

yourinstagram officially released my new single, 'i ≠ doll' today at the bangkok concert ! go listen to it now ♡ the energy today was insane and i had a great time performing for you all ! love you bangkok <3

view all 1,999,237 comments

_chaechae_1 love u xx

zuhazana 🤍

lilymhe my wife !!!! you did so well today 🥹🫶 i'm so proud

yourinstagram love you wifey !! 🩷

lilymhe are you sure it's only bangkok you love ? 🤭

yourinstagram lily !!! 🫢

user47 WHAT'S THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN

user21 what are they talking about...

user69 sus 🧐

winmetawin nice song :)

bbrightvc 🤍

yourinstagram 🤍

dew_jsu 🔥🔥🔥

hirunkit_ ❤️

landonorris it was fun 🫶

yourinstagram aww, i'm glad to hear that ! thanks for attending the concert 🫶

user90 Y/N AND LANDO INTERACTIONS?? this was not on my 2023 bingo card but i love it

user73 MY PRETTY WIFEEEEEE

user38 she's so gorgeous 😭

user19 her smile 🥹🥹🥹🥹

alex_albon great job as always, y/n ! love your new single !

yourinstagram tysm albono <3

user45 wait if y/n calls alex 'albono' then that means she's as close to him as she is with lily

user66 EXACTLY!! i love how she's slowly making lots of friends with people from the f1 world

georgerussell63 carmen & i had a great time, y/n ! thanks for the backstage passes. it was fun getting to learn the ropes of how you guys perform.

yourinstagram anytime, george ! it was fun getting to know you both ^^

user81 thailand f4 in the likes and comments.. my two worlds are colliding 🥹

user12 AHHH LANDO LIKED AND COMMENTED !!! they love each other !!!ynlando forever ❤️

user38 just because he liked and commented doesn't mean they're a thing...

user50 stop being delusional, op

view more comments

lando.jpg

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, yourinstagram and 8,190,349 others

lando.jpg in my fearnot era (lily forced me to write this caption)

view all 839,193 comments

alex_albon lando's got great taste in music, everyone 🤭

lilymhe lies !! i didn't force you ! you wrote this caption all by yourself 😒

georgerussell63 not a single picture of the rest of us.. i see how it is 👀

yourinstagram 🧡

landonorris 🤍

user99 stop not lando & y/n using each others' favourite/representative heart emojis.. 🥹

user57 y/n and lando in their bestie era

quadrant looking so handsome!

user88 y/n in the first slide of the jpg account.. somethin' is sus here 🤨

user76 right?? he could've put that picture of the girls first but no he decided to put y/n first.. 🧐

user43 guys please let's not get too deep into this it's just a bunch of pictures

maxfewtrell looks like you had a lot of fun, mate 🤭

alexalbon oh he definitely did 🤭

user33 SOMETHING'S GOING ONNNNNN

charles_leclerc 🫣

spotify stream le sserafim's songs on spotify, lando!

user50 what's my wife doing in a white man's post

user67 so you're telling me that the first picture, which is literally the best fan taken picture of y/n at the concert, was not taken by y/n's fansites but by a white man???

user86 y/n on lando's jpg account.. never thought i'd live to see a day like this

user94 y/n looks so pretty in the first slide 🫤🫶

user33 i waited 2 years to meet y/n, white man did it in a week

user75 ahhh lando's a fearnot confirmed!!

view more comments

yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 20,107,287 others

yourinstagram been liking the colour 🍊 a lot lately...

view all 2,129,989 comments

lilymhe of course you have 🤭🧡

landonorris it sure is a pretty colour, isn't it? 😁

yourinstagram perhaps 🫣

maxverstappen1 🤨

oscarpiastri 👀

yourinstagram 🤫

maxverstappen1 🧐

user99 HELP MAX'S COMMENTS I'M CRYING

user66 max is so nosy 😭

user04 max trying to figure out what's going on with y/n and the mclaren drivers.. he's just like us

charles_leclerc 😶

user57 charles knows something fr

alex_albon why am i not surprised 🤨

yourinstagram look away albono 😬

spotify orange looks so good on you, queen

barbie hi (ginger) barbie 🥰

yourinstagram omg hi barbie!!! 🥹🥹

duolingo wow 🤩

wkorea 아름다운

somsomi0309 my gf 🫶

user06 ain't no way the girl who swore she hated the colour orange like a year back posted this..

user55 EXACTLY!! idk how to react fr

user78 i thought y/n got hacked or sumn 😭

user09 had to do a double take fr

user88 chill guys, everyone's likes & dislikes changes quite frequently ykyk

user37 still then.. this is not the y/n ik 🤨

user83 MY GORGEOUS WIFE!!!

user67 marry me y/n

lilyzneimer 🧡

yourinstagram 🧡

user23 OMG LILY AND Y/N INTERACTIONS???

user97 what if.. y/n and lando...

user73 y/n mclaren wag confirmed?

user30 maybe not a wag but she definitely has connections with mclaren..

user45 omg y/n mclaren collab maybe :0)

user25 GOSH SHE'S SO PRETTY??? 😩😩😩

user88 that one guy she was kissing in bangkok is so lucky fr

mclaren orange mhm? i think we've spotted a papaya fan here 🫵

yourinstagram 🫣🫣🫣

user81 ORANGE LOOKS FIRE ON YOU GIRLIE

view more comments

mclaren

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, danielricciardo and 23,283,555 others

tagged yourinstagram, landonorris

mclaren thank you yourinstagram for joining us on the paddock this weekend! it was such an honour having you by our side 🧡

ps you're our lucky charm now 🤭

view all 1,123,789 comments

mclaren stream y/n's & le sserafim's songs everyone!!

f1 the queen of the paddock 🤩

lnfour the best duo!!

quadrant y/n ate and left no crumbs

yourinstagram it's a pleasure to be your lucky charm ^^ thank you for inviting me 🧡

scuderiaferrari we love you y/n! please come visit us next time ❤

williamsracing our garage is always open for you y/n 💙

astonmartinf1 please come to aston martin, y/n we have alonso

redbullracing since everyone's shooting their shot.. we'll give you free merch if you come by our garage next time, y/n 🤭

yourinstagram ooh this is so tempting 😫

mclaren get away red bull y/n belongs to us 🤺🤺

alfaromeostake we'll give you an alfa romeo if you visit us

alphataurif1 our drivers were jamming to your songs all day long!

yourinstagram ahh i saw daniel singing to 'antifragile' in the car 🥹 thank you for playing it through the radio ! 🫶

alpinef1team our drivers & the crew love your music, y/n!

mercedesamgf1 come to mercedes, y/n we have roscoe

yourinstagram oh this convinced me i'm currently omw 🏃‍♀️

mclaren not y/n cheating on us...

yourinstagram anything for roscoe 💁‍♀️

lewishamilton 🤍

haasf1team pretty queen 🥰

user04 HELP NOT THE TEAMS COMPETING TO GET Y/N IN COME BY TO THEIR GARAGE

user08 y/n going to merc solely for roscoe.. i know my goat

user16 alfa's rizz game is crazy they're offering a whole car to y/n 😭

user24 i'm convinced charles wrote that comment by the ferrari account

oscarpiastri i had a blast this weekend bc of you. loved having you over, y/n 🧡

yourinstagram aww, you're too sweet, pastry :( made my day 🧡

user32 shut up everyone y/n calls oscar 'pastry' :(((( <333

charles_leclerc come to the ferrari garage next time, y/n 🥹

yourinstagram ofc bestie i promise i'll visit you in the next race i attend 🤞

lilymhe orange suits you, wifey 🤭🧡

francisca.cgomes 😘😘

maxverstappen1 it was great to have finally met you, y/n! my friends at mclaren are so lucky to have you! ☺

yourinstagram aww, thanks maxie! it was great to meet you too :D

lilyzneimer 🫶🫶

landonorris hi pretty girl 🫣

yourinstagram hi pretty boy 🫣

user05 since when did these two start calling e/o 'pretty' 🤨🤨

user10 they are so sus istg

user40 y/n and lando... i know what you are 🧐

user48 why are y/n and lando flirting in public bros think about the rest of us

user56 notice how there's not a single hate comment towards y/n? that's my queen, everyone!!

user72 i've been scrolling down for what seems like an eternity now but i still haven't spotted a 'just f1 prioritising celebrities over fans' comment. y/n is officially the oscar piastri of the paddock celebrities

user64 no bc the way everyone's so in love with her.. they're all so real for this

view more comments

yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, louispartridge_ and 30,127,143 others

tagged landonorris, mclaren, oscarpiastri

yourinstagram thank you for inviting me to the united states gp, mclaren! it was such a wonderful experience and i had so much fun! team papaya forever 🧡 also, chin up, pastry! i know you'll do so much better in mexico <3 and congrats on the p2, lan — you deserve it!

view all 3,457,099 comments

oscarpiastri thank you y/n 🫶

yourinstagram anytime bestie! you got this!

mclaren we love you y/n!!

yourinstagram love you all too mwah <3

landonorris yoooo i got a slide all to myself on the paddock queen's ig post!!

liked by yourinstagram

landonorris thanks, pretty girl 😁

liked by yourinstagram

landonorris team papaya forever, hmm? 😏

yourinstagram ew shut up and get your ugly emoji away

landonorris never 😏😏😏

yourinstagram i hate you 😒

landonorris you know you love me i know you care 😩

yourinstagram okay justice beaver 🧍‍♀️

user90 JUSTICE BEAVER I'M CRYING

user55 justice beaver.. (the office flashbacks)

user45 i love y/n and lando's conversations sm 😭 they're always so entertaining

user78 not ynlando bickering like an old married couple

user67 lan and pastry... i love this trio 🥹

user11 team papaya forever? does this mean you're a mclaren fan, y/n?

yourinstagram ... maybe

user13 screaming crying throwing up y/n's a papaya!!!!

user15 I KNOW WHO MY GOAT ISSSSSS 🗣️💅🏻

lilymhe MY GIRL MY GIRL MY GIRLLLLLL

lnfour SLAYYYY

danielricciardo heidi & i love your music, y/n! keep on slaying 😁🧡

scuderiaferrari did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

carmenmmundt 😍😍

maxfewtrell 🧡

savnorris so pretty!!!

riabish it girllll

adam_norris_pure_electric ❤

liked by yourinstagram

olivernorris1 👏👏

flonorris1 gorgeous!

ciscanorris1 🧡🧡🧡

user91 the way the entire norris family is in the comment section??? hello???

user75 not y/n summoning the norris family + lando's bff in her comments 😭

user34 something is going on between the norris' and the y/l/n's

user17 that picture of lando.. he's so cute 😭

user19 smiley lando made my day 🥹 thank you for this picture, y/n

view more comments

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, joaofelix79, yourinstagram and 15,348,999 others

tagged yourinstagram

landonorris p2 babyyyyyyyyy

all thanks to my lucky charm, y/n 🧡

view all 1,999,999 comments

mclaren papaya power!!! 🧡

lnfour 🐐🐐🐐

quadrant LFG!!!!

yourinstagram you're welcome 🤭

liked by landonorris

oscarpiastri great race, mate!

carlossainz55 ❤👏

adam_norris_pure_electric 🏆💪

savnorris mila's so proud of her uncle la la !

charles_leclerc LANDO WE CAN BE WORLD CHAMPIONS I SAID

parishilton 🙌

alex_albon 👀👀

maxfewtrell lesgooooo

mclarenauto p2 for mr norris!!

view more comments

— imessage : my bristol boy ☆

y/n : .. lando, did you just reveal our relationship through a twitch stream?

my bristol boy ☆ : i got tricked, y/n 😭

my bristol boy ☆ : i'm so sorry 😞

y/n : you're so silly...

y/n : it's alright, baby, don't worry

y/n : we would've had to reveal it sooner or later anyways

y/n : it's just so funny to me that it was done on a twitch stream 😭

y/n : but yeah, it's all good 👍

my bristol boy ☆ : you're always so understanding ☹️

my bristol boy ☆ : i love you

my bristol boy ☆ : now that our r/s is public, can i please post pictures of my pretty girl now? i want to show you off to the world

y/n : not if i show you off first 🏃‍♀️

yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, tomholland2013, lnfour and 40,887,345 others

tagged landonorris

yourinstagram well, looks like there's nothing left to hide now since the cat's out of the bag. alexa, play agora hills 🧡

view all 8 comments

yourinstagram my manager wants to meet you btw lan

landonorris .. oh no 🏃‍♂️

landonorris i suddenly don't exist anymore

landonorris sorry sweetheart 😅

landonorris KISSING AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US

landonorris I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF

landonorris since we've made our relationship public now, can you please tell the world that i'm actually your favourite driver ?

yourinstagram ok (it's still seb)

landonorris wtf

landonorris no wait the words in parentheses don't exist therefore i am your favourite driver in the whole world

yourinstagram ok you keep on telling yourself that.. 🧍‍♀️

landonorris my stargirl

landonorris you're so pretty

landonorris i love you

yourinstagram i love you too my bristol boy <3

comments on this post have been limited.

landonorris

liked by yourinstagram, philfoden, quadrant and 37,888,979 others

tagged yourinstagram

landonorris showing off my pretty girl to the world 😁

view all 50 comments

landonorris also y/n called me her favourite driver take that sebastianvettel (jk love u)

sebastianvettel haha, that's great lando!

sebastianvettel but i think we all know who the #1 in her heart truly is

yourinstagram it's always been you seb 🫶🫶

landonorris ok i can see that i'm not wanted here 🚶‍♂️

yourinstagram nerd

yourinstagram simp

yourinstagram live laugh love sebastian vettel

liked by sebastianvettel

alex_albon what a simp 🙄

georgerussell63 finally!!

oscarpiastri 🧡🧡🧡

lilymhe i can't believe my wife got taken by a guy who goes vroom vroom for a living 😒

yourinstagram don't say that lily i still love you

landonorris your boyfriend also goes vroom vroom for a living

lilymhe what boyfriend? i don't have any boyfriend

alex_albon i'm literally right here 🧍‍♂️

lewishamilton happy for you two 🙌

charles_leclerc 😄❣️

danielricciardo lando norizz is a myth, everyone!

adam_norris_pure_electric happy for you, son 👍❤

maxverstappen1 ❤

carmenmmundt pretty y/n 💓

_chaechae_1 take good care of her, lando!

hhh.e_c.v 💖💖

riabish my girl!!

savnorris mila's favourite auntie 🥺

yourinstagram i will cry savannah

yourinstagram tell her i love her and i miss her :(

savnorris she misses you too! please come visit us again soon

yourinstagram will do! 🥹

maxfewtrell rooting for you both!

mclaren our papaya king & queen 🧡

patriciooward nice!!

lnfour so happy for you 🥹

quadrant we stan!!!

tomholland2013 🤩

f1 our favourite couple!!

yourinstagram i love you my pretty boy

landonorris i love you my pretty girl

comments on this post have been limited.

320 notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 10 months

Text

Quarter (opla!zoro x you)

summary: there's not much stability in his line of work, but at least he has you.

wc: 0.7k

cw/tags: descriptions of blood and injury, explicit language, mutual pining and unspoken feely feels

note: can be read as a standalone or with parley and no prey, no pay that exists in the same universe! hope you like it, something short and sweet for my favorite himbo man :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

“What, sneaking through the window or invading my house at ungodly hours?”

“Both,” he grunts, “though, I do regret not bringing those flowers you like.” He plants his feet unsteadily on your rug and you guide him to the sitting area of your room, helping him lie back on the loveseat. “What were they called? Bastards?”

“Asters,” you correct with a small chuckle, calmly retrieving the med kit from a nearby cabinet and grabbing a wet towel from the bathroom. His grimace softens as you sit in front of him, gently pulling back the blood-stiffened fabric on his torso. He flinches when the towel starts to wipe away the caked on blood and debris and you apologize absentmindedly. “Who’d you piss off this time?”

“Marines,” he says through gritted teeth while you soak the towel with alcohol and dab it across his wounds. You give him a pointed look and he weakly shows his palms in surrender.

“I thought we had an agreement not to get involved with Marines.”

“Some asshole got mad that I was taking his targets and put a hefty bounty over my head,” he says unconvincingly. “Ran into a few obstacles on the way here.”

“Were you followed?” He scoffs and immediately winces from the movement, cursing under his breath.

“Of course not. There’s no way in hell I’d ever let anyone find you here,” he promises and it makes your heart flutter. You were slowly rubbing away at the chalked line between you and Zoro, one that separated you from being more than friends. Though you didn’t know much about having close friends, you knew they didn’t look at you the way he looked at you now. It was too fond, too tender, too devoted. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

“Mmm, my knight in shining armor,” you tease and he glares at you half-heartedly. “Or, maybe ‘outlaw in tattered street rags.’ How does that one sound?”

“I’ll be anything you want me to be.” Your face suddenly feels like it’s been set on fire and you’re grateful that his eyes close so he can’t see what he’s doing to you. “How long do you think it’ll be ‘til I’m hunting again?”

“The unselfish part of me says a day,” you murmur, wrapping the gauze around his body that you knew like your own. His chest is completely uncovered now and you want to laugh at the irony of the shirtless, god-bodied swordsman lounging in your bedroom.

“What’s the selfish part say?”

“However long you’d let me keep you,” you murmur and he peels open a single eye to look at you, really look at you. “I miss you, you know, when you’re gone. It’s embarrassing.” He’s quiet, a thoughtful look crossing his face. It wasn’t often you left him speechless; he couldn’t tell if the airy feeling in his head was from the nausea or from you.

“I miss you too when I’m gone,” he answers just as quietly after a long moment of silence. With both his eyes open, his attention stays trained on your face as you reach out and brush a strand of green hair from his forehead. Your fingers on his skin feel electric every time, like he was being struck by white-hot lightning. “You shouldn’t have to stay up waiting for me.”

“But I will,” you reply without hesitation and pain blinks over his features. “Why the face?”

“I can’t do this to you,” he confesses and your heart plummets. Of all the words he could have said, those were the ones you didn’t want to hear.

“Do what?”

“This,” he insists, gesturing vaguely between you two and acknowledging the unresolved tension that pulled you closer to him like a magnet. “You deserve more stability than a come-and-go bounty hunter.”

“What makes you think I would want anyone else?” The earnestness in your tone stumps him into silence again and you can’t help laughing a little bit. “You know, for being the most feared man in the seas, you aren’t that self-aware.”

“I think part of my mind shuts off when I’m with you,” he says in that raspy voice that finally makes you crack, closing the distance between you two and sliding next down to him on the couch. His arms receive you as naturally as blinking and you can feel your own inhales and exhales relax as you both sink into each other’s safety. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he breathes.

“I think I can make a pretty good guess,” you yawn and settle further into his body. “You’ll stay for a few days, then?”

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #zoro fluff #opla fluff #one piece x y/n

330 notes · View notes

sidekick-hero · 18 days

Text

First Love, Second Chance (Part 5)

(steddie | explicit | @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt "make up sex" | tags: exes to lovers, canon divergence (Eddie lives), future fic (set 2001), Top!Steve, Bottom!Eddie, emotional sex | Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Find the whole thing on AO3

“Eddie,” Steve half-laughed, half-gasped, “Eddie, come on, let me open the door before we get arrested for public indecency.”

Eddie groaned against Steve’s neck, where he’d been busy leaving a trail of marks, but he loosened his tight grip just enough for Steve to fish his keys out of his pocket. It took him a few attempts—Eddie’s hot mouth biting and licking along his skin made it hard to concentrate—but with a triumphant little “A-ha!” Steve managed to push the door to his apartment open. The two men stumbled inside, into the darkness of the hallway.

For once, Steve was grateful that Robin had moved in with her girlfriend about a year ago, leaving him to find an affordable place on his own. If they were still roommates, he and Eddie would have had to come up with some other plan for alone time after sneaking out of the event.

A pang of guilt hit him for leaving his date behind so abruptly. Lisa had been great—a woman he could have seen himself with if he hadn’t just realized, with absolute clarity, that his perfect match was standing right in front of him. He silently vowed to ask the agency to send her a gift with a note that read something like, “I’m so, so sorry for being such an ass, but the love of my life came back, and I couldn’t let him slip away again.”

Before he could finish the thought, he was slammed against the wall with a soft “Oomph!” The impact knocked the breath out of him, but Steve barely had time to inhale before Eddie’s mouth was on his again, eager and demanding, lips soft and tongue insistent. Who needed air, anyway, when he had Eddie Munson’s kisses to keep him alive?

They kept kissing, the only sounds in the dark hallway their ragged breaths and the soft, wet glide of their mouths against each other. Steve had missed this—not just the physical attraction or the raw, undeniable chemistry that made every moment with Eddie electric, but something deeper. He'd had plenty of sex with plenty of people before and after Eddie, some of it really good, even great. But it almost felt unfair to compare anyone to Eddie.

Because what he missed most was the way Eddie made him feel.

For most of his life, Steve felt like he was just playing a series of roles: the obedient son, the all-American golden boy, the Casanova, the babysitter, the chauffeur. All these personas crafted to win attention, admiration, maybe even affection. Some kind of love.

But with Eddie, none of those roles mattered. With Eddie, he was enough. More than enough. He was everything. He could feel it in every touch, every brush of Eddie’s fingers along his cheek and down his neck. He heard it in the way Eddie’s breath hitched whenever Steve touched him back. He tasted it in Eddie’s fervent kisses, the way he couldn't seem to stop himself from claiming Steve's mouth, over and over again. Most of all, Steve could see it in Eddie’s gaze—a gaze that found him like a compass needle pointing true north, no matter the room or the crowd.

To feel Eddie’s undivided attention on him again, after being deprived of it for so long, was almost overwhelming.

When their lips finally parted to gulp down much-needed air, Steve rested his forehead against Eddie’s, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. He stared into Eddie's eyes, illuminated faintly by the light filtering through the street lamps outside. He hadn’t even had time to flip on the lights before Eddie was on him, and it felt like they were teenagers again—caught in that intoxicating swirl of hormones and love, a heady mix that made him feel drunk on desire.

"Are you sure?" Eddie whispered in the tiny space between them. At Steve's soft, questioning sound, Eddie nudged his nose against Steve’s and clarified, "I feel like if we keep going, we're headed straight for a home run. And I'd love that, Stevie, more than anything. But only if it’s what you want, too. Whatever happens next, I’m all in—completely and enthusiastically. If you send me home right now and tell me to call you tomorrow, I’d go, and I’d spend the whole night thinking about everything I want to learn about you and your life here, everything I want to share about mine. If you asked me to come to bed and just hold you, I’d feel like the luckiest bastard alive."

Eddie finally drew in a breath, like he’d been holding it in since he started speaking. Then he gave Steve that smile—the one Steve could easily fall in love with if he hadn’t already been there for years.

A giddy laugh escaped Steve, unable to help himself. "How could you not know?"

Eddie raised an eyebrow, amused. "Know what?"

"I’ve been sure since the first time you kissed me," Steve replied, "and then tried to bolt in a panic—until you realized you still couldn’t walk very far and fell down like a baby giraffe."

Eddie snorted, joining in the laughter. “You make me sound incredibly suave and sexy.”

With a grin, Steve tugged Eddie closer by the lapel of his coat and kissed him again, keeping it sweet and teasing. “Oh, you are, baby. So suave. So sexy.”

Eddie placed a hand over his heart with a mock-offended look. “Now you’re just mocking me. I’m mortally wounded—the knife twisted by the very man who owns my heart. Et tu, Brutus—”

Steve decided to silence Eddie’s theatrical rambling with another kiss, deeper this time, while pushing Eddie's coat off his shoulders. Eddie’s words melted into a pleased hum as Steve’s fingers moved deftly, unbuttoning Eddie’s shirt.

“I’m sure,” Steve panted against Eddie’s lips, pausing just long enough to look him in the eye. “I want this. I want you. We’ll figure out the rest, step by step.”

“You have me, sweetheart, for as long as you want me,” Eddie vowed, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m done running.”

“Good,” Steve whispered, his voice quiet but sure. It felt like time had stopped around them, the air between them thick and heavy like warm honey. Suddenly, Steve wanted nothing more than to see Eddie clearly, to look into those familiar brown eyes that always gave everything away.

Steve quickly shrugged off his own coat and pulled his shirt over his head. He couldn't help but smirk at the soft groan Eddie let out, his hands instantly finding their way to Steve’s chest, fingers threading through his chest hair. “God, I missed this. My precious.”

Steve chuckled, hooking his fingers into Eddie’s waistband and starting to tug him toward the bedroom. “I see your weird obsession with my chest hair is still going strong,” he teased.

Eddie followed him eagerly, his hands roaming over Steve’s skin like he was trying to memorize the feel of him all over again. “Can you blame me?”

Finally reaching the bedroom, Steve wasted no time pulling Eddie toward the bed, pushing him down onto the mattress. Eddie bounced, laughing with delight at how the scene felt like it could be from a cheesy porno. But his laughter quickly faded when Steve flicked on the bedside lamp and let his hands drift down his chest toward his waistband, making a show of getting undressed. Steve popped the button on his jeans, his hips swaying with a teasing slowness. His hands slid down his muscular thighs, accentuated by the tight fit of his Levi’s, before moving back up to tug at the zipper.

Just as Steve grabbed the waistband to pull his jeans down, Eddie slid off the bed, dropping to his knees in front of him in one fluid motion. Steve caught the slight wince that crossed Eddie’s face.

“You okay, baby?” Steve asked, concern threading through his voice. He knew Eddie had a habit of hurting himself in the name of sexiness.

Eddie chuckled, nodding. “Just my knees reminding me of the inevitable passage of time.”

Steve’s fingers threaded through Eddie’s curls, still as full and dark as they were the first time he’d done this. “Is that your way of telling me I should go easy on you, old man?”

He wasn’t prepared for Eddie’s response—a swift, almost desperate yank at the back of his thighs that pulled him closer, Eddie’s face nuzzling against the hard length straining against the metal of his open fly. The wet heat of Eddie’s mouth through the thin fabric of Steve’s boxer briefs was enough to draw a low, needy moan from his lips.

“Easy on me?” Eddie rasped, his voice already rough like he’d spent hours worshiping Steve’s body. “That’s the last thing I want. I want to make up for every single day we lost. I want you to claim me all over again, and then I want to return the favor. I want to forget there was ever a time I didn’t belong to you.”

With that, Eddie tugged Steve’s pants and underwear down in one swift motion, leaving him completely bare under Eddie's ravenous gaze. Eddie licked his lips like a starving man eyeing his favorite meal. The intensity in Eddie's eyes sent a wave of heat through Steve, his body already trembling with anticipation.

“You know, the first time I saw you naked, my first thought was how fucking unfair it was," Eddie murmured, almost sounding offended even as his gaze raked over Steve's body. "How can everything about you be so goddamn pretty… even your dick?”

His voice was thick with admiration, his long, dexterous fingers wrapping around Steve’s hard length in exactly the way Steve loved. Steve opened his mouth to respond, but the words got lost in his throat as Eddie, wasting no time, sank his mouth down over Steve’s cock. The wet heat, the sensation of Eddie's lips and tongue, overwhelmed him, making his knees nearly buckle.

In the five years they'd been together, they had learned each other inside and out, knew exactly how to make the other come in mere minutes, how to touch and kiss and lick and fuck until the other was a trembling mess. So it didn’t surprise Steve that Eddie still knew every single thing that drove him mad with lust. Eddie’s clever tongue focused on the head of his cock, teasing the slit, swirling around it, before suddenly sinking down in one smooth move until his nose was buried in Steve’s pubic hair.

“Fuck,” Steve hissed, doubling over as his hands gripped Eddie’s curls tightly, anchoring himself in place. He felt Eddie smirk around him, clearly proud of the reaction he’d provoked. But Steve couldn’t even begin to care, not when Eddie started moving up and down his length, his tongue gliding along the underside of his cock, tracing the vein, humming with pleasure every time he hit the back of Eddie’s throat. It was the sweetest kind of torture, Eddie’s mouth working him over with practiced ease while he gazed up at Steve with those dark, adoring eyes. Like blowing Steve was a privilege, like Steve himself was a wonder Eddie had been lucky enough to find.

It wasn’t like Steve had lived like a monk all these years. If anything, his stamina had only improved with age and experience. But somehow, with Eddie worshiping him on his knees, he felt like he was seconds away from the edge, like he could come just from the way Eddie looked at him.

“Baby, if you want a home run tonight, you gotta stop,” he managed to gasp out, his voice breathless as if he’d just finished a marathon — though, knowing from experience, marathon sex with Eddie could be even more exhausting than an actual marathon.

Eddie reluctantly pulled off, taking a moment to catch his breath before playfully biting Steve’s hipbone. “Remember when we could go several rounds in one night?” He sighed with mock wistfulness, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

“Actually, Robin and I decided to repress the entire era when Reagan was president,” Steve replied with a grin. Then he carefully pulled Eddie back up to his feet, mindful of his knees that had seen better days. No one warned them that hitting their mid-thirties would feel like this. His respect for Hopper, Joyce, and even Murray had grown exponentially since getting closer and closer to the age they were when they first battled monsters from the Upside Down. Some days, he didn’t even feel like running to catch the bus.

They shared a kiss that started almost chaste — if not for the lingering taste of Steve on Eddie’s tongue. “Catcher or pitcher?” he asked, a playful edge to his voice.

“Huh?” Eddie looked dazed from the kiss, swaying forward like he was chasing Steve’s lips. The sight was impossibly endearing.

Steve chuckled softly. “You wanna catch or pitch? You know, for our home run.”

To Steve's surprise, Eddie let out a pained groan at the question. “I hope you know I blame you and only you for the fact that I even get that fucking metaphor, let alone finding it as hot as I do.”

Smirking, Steve reached out to cup the bulge in Eddie's pants. "Hmmm. I don’t know, this doesn’t feel like you’re all that mad about it, Munson." He squeezed, delighting in the way Eddie twitched beneath his hand. "And you still haven’t answered me. You wanna spread me out on my bed and make me take this," he said, stroking Eddie through his jeans, "inch by inch, feel me squeeze tight and hot around you?” Eddie’s hips jerked into Steve’s touch, a needy whimper escaping his lips at the image Steve was painting with his words.

“Or do you want me to undress you slowly," Steve continued, "lay you down, lick and finger you open until you’re begging for me? Let me give you everything you want, take you apart and put you back together? Hold you down and fuck you so good you forget everyone else who ever touched you but me?”

Steve had never been one for sharing, and while he didn’t hold it against Eddie that there had been others while they were apart — he had been with other people too, after all — a darker, more primal part of him wanted to remind Eddie exactly who he belonged to.

His hand never stopped teasing, and by now Eddie was clutching Steve's forearms tightly, his hips undulating, seeking more friction, more pleasure. "This. That. What you just said. Please, Stevie. Want you to."

“Want me to what?” Steve demanded, his voice low, rough with need. He wanted Eddie to say it. He needed Eddie to say it.

“Want you to show me I’m yours,” Eddie breathed, eyes dark with desire.

And who was Steve to deny them what they both so obviously wanted?

He kept his promise and undressed Eddie slowly, his hands trembling with the need to explore every inch of the beloved body beneath them once more. He found new tattoos, but also a few more scars that hadn't been there the last time they were like this. Steve made a mental note to ask Eddie about them later. Right now, he simply pressed soft kisses against each new mark he discovered, silently vowing to love them as much as he loved every other part of Eddie.

Once they were both naked, Steve murmured for Eddie to get onto the bed on all fours. Eddie obeyed without hesitation — a miracle in itself, showing just how much he needed this, needed him. Steve took a moment to gather the lube and condoms from the bedside drawer. He took a moment to mourn the fact that they had to use a condom, wishing he could feel Eddie bare, skin to skin, but he knew it was the right thing to do. At least until they could talk about being exclusive again and get tested.

When he turned back toward the bed, Steve's breath hitched at the sight before him. Miles of pale skin stretched out before him, adorned with black ink and pink scars, old and fresh alike — testaments to the battles Eddie had fought and survived. His body was leaner, his shoulders broader, his arms more defined, but he still retained that wiry frame that always drove Steve wild. Eddie's cock hung full and heavy between his spread legs, his back arched in a way that put his ass on perfect display, open and inviting, ready for Steve to take.

"You should take a picture, might last you longer," Eddie teased, glancing over his shoulder with a wicked grin.

Steve chuckled, momentarily caught off guard by the idea. He still had a few grainy, clandestine photos of Eddie from back in the day, capturing their moments in bed, raw and unguarded. The thought was tempting, and he mentally filed it away for later. For now, he put the lube and condoms within reach and settled in behind Eddie, his hands moving instantly to the soft flesh of Eddie’s ass, stroking and squeezing, relishing the heat and softness under his palms.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, unable to keep the awe from his voice, feeling Eddie shiver beneath his touch.

Determined to show Eddie exactly how much he meant every word, Steve leaned in, diving between those enticing cheeks without hesitation. His tongue, wet and insistent, teased at Eddie's rim, making a point to keep it as sloppy as possible. He knew how much Eddie loved the filthy, wet sounds and the sensation of spit trickling down to his balls.

Eddie’s hoarse moans, punctuated by his breathless mix of praise and pleading, were like music to Steve’s ears. One of his favorite things about sex with Eddie was how unapologetically loud and expressive he was — just as passionate in bed as he was about everything else in life. For Steve, his partner's pleasure had always been paramount, and knowing he could make Eddie feel this way filled him with a deep, satisfying pride.

It had been a revelation for Steve when he realized that his talents with his mouth could be applied to a man just as effectively as with all the girls he'd been with during his days as King Steve. Back then, his oral skills were the stuff of legend, and when he figured out how to use them on Eddie, they’d both reached new heights of sexual fulfillment.

“Oh my god,” Eddie gasped, voice raw and strained as he pressed the words out between desperate moans. “Your fucking mouth.”

Steve chuckled against him, tongue still buried inside, amused by the way Eddie unknowingly mirrored his own thoughts. He knew he could make Eddie come like this, with just his mouth — he’d done it many times before — but tonight, they had something different in mind. Reluctantly, he pulled back, biting playfully at the plush curve of Eddie's right cheek before grabbing the lube from the pillow beside Eddie’s head.

His first finger slipped inside easily; Eddie was already stretched by his tongue, his body pliant and eager. Steve could feel the heat and tightness around his finger, and as much as he wanted to draw this out, to tease Eddie until he was a trembling mess, his own need was overwhelming. He wanted to be as close to Eddie as humanly possible, to feel every inch of him, to erase every bit of distance that had ever been between them.

One finger was soon joined by another, Eddie’s body yielding easily, drawing Steve in. “Taking it so well, baby. So eager for me to fuck you, huh?”

“Ye-yes, fuck, please, don’t need another finger, just you, I—” Another moan, high and needy, slipped from Eddie’s lips. “I can take it, you know I can,” he babbled, hips pushing back against Steve’s hand, fucking himself on his long fingers. Eddie was right; Steve knew he could sink in just like this. They’d always used their fingers to drive each other wild, not because they needed the stretching. When they were too impatient or time was scarce, they’d often skip the foreplay altogether.

Steve had wanted to take his time, to make up for all the days and nights they’d missed, but he realized there was too much pent-up desire, too much yearning for each other. The need to be close was overwhelming in its intensity. They could take their time later, once the burning urgency had softened into something slower and more languid.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” Steve promised, stroking Eddie’s trembling back like he was soothing a skittish animal. He could feel the tension in Eddie’s body, taut and electric. “Eddie, baby, can you turn around for me?” His hands continued their gentle path, trying to calm whatever had Eddie on edge.

Eddie turned slowly, reluctantly, until he was sitting in front of Steve again. He was still hard, his skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, and his dark eyes were wide and uncertain. His bottom lip, red and swollen from his own teeth, trembled as he avoided Steve’s gaze.

“What’s going on? You seem nervous. Do you want to stop?” Steve asked, his voice filled with concern. Eddie had been so eager, so hungry for this — but what if he felt pressured, like he had to do it just to keep Steve?

Eddie shook his head but kept his eyes downcast, something clearly weighing on his mind. Steve reached out, lacing their fingers together, and brought Eddie’s hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “You can talk to me. Whatever it is, it’s okay. Remember what you said? Whatever happens next, I’m all in. We can stop right now; I’ll make us some cocoa or tea, and we can cuddle or talk, whatever you need. And I’ll still want you just as much.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say because Eddie squeezed his hand, thumb brushing over Steve’s knuckles as he finally spoke. “I don’t want to stop. I want this… I want you… so much. That’s the problem.” At Steve’s confused hum, Eddie continued. “I’m scared, Stevie. It’s stupid, I know, but… God, I’m so fucking scared.”

“Scared? Of what? Of me?” Steve asked, his heart tightening in his chest.

Eddie finally looked up, and Steve’s heart broke at the raw vulnerability in his eyes. “Of how much I want you. How much I need you. It’s terrifying. I feel out of control, like I’ll break apart if you stop touching me.”

Steve’s heart clenched at Eddie’s admission, feeling the weight of every word settle between them. Eddie’s eyes, so wide and vulnerable, flicked up to meet his, and Steve saw the fear there — not of him, but of the intensity of what he was feeling. It was like a tidal wave, something too big to contain or control. He tightened his grip on Eddie’s hand, drawing him closer, feeling the heat and tremor of his body.

"Hey," he murmured softly, "it's okay. You're safe here. I know it feels like too much right now," Steve continued, voice low and soothing, "but it doesn’t have to be. We don’t have to rush this. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for."

“I am ready,” Eddie insisted, the desperation in his voice making Steve's heart twist. "But it feels like — like if I let go, I’ll lose myself. Or worse, you. And I can't… I can't lose you again. Not when I just got you back."

Steve shifted closer, cupping Eddie's face with both hands, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "You’re not going to lose me," he promised, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering. "I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie’s breath hitched, his eyes searching Steve's, and Steve leaned in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips. He kept it soft, reassuring. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against Eddie’s, his hands still cradling Eddie’s face. “We’ll go as slow as you need. We have all the time in the world now. And if you need to stop, we’ll stop. But if you want me to keep going, I’m here. I’m right here with you.”

For a moment, Eddie just breathed, like he was soaking in Steve’s words, his promises. Then, he nodded, a small, tentative smile breaking through the anxiety in his eyes. "I don’t want to stop," he whispered, voice steadier now. "I just… needed to know you’re with me. That you feel it too."

“I do,” Steve replied, brushing a kiss to Eddie’s brow. “Believe me, Eddie, I never felt like this about anyone but you.”

Eddie swallowed, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Okay,” he breathed. “Then… don’t stop. Just… hold me while you do. Please.”

Steve's smile was gentle. "Always," he whispered, pulling Eddie closer, as if holding him while making love could ever be anything less than a joy.

The next few minutes felt like a dream. Steve never stopped touching Eddie, and Eddie never stopped touching him, their hands and bodies in constant, tender contact. Eddie rolled the condom over Steve’s length, slicking it with lube, while Steve kept caressing Eddie’s thighs, kneeling between his spread legs.

And then, finally, with Eddie on his back and Steve poised above him, he sank slowly into the familiar heat of Eddie’s body after years apart. Every movement was slow, deliberate, filled with care and affection. Their gazes were locked, fingers intertwined beside Eddie’s head, and it felt as if time had ceased to exist. Steve leaned down to capture Eddie’s lips in a tender kiss, hips flush against Eddie's, and they kissed again and again, the earlier urgency softened into something gentler, more profound.

When Steve began to move, his hips rolled languidly, their mouths never more than a breath apart. Eddie’s grip on his hands was firm, as if Steve were the only thing anchoring him to the present, holding him together with touch alone. Maybe he was. Steve certainly felt the same way about Eddie.

Their bodies fell into a rhythm that only they knew. They were pressed together from head to toe, chests flush, Eddie’s hard cock trapped beneath Steve’s stomach, Eddie’s legs wrapped tightly around Steve’s waist. It felt like they were caught in the eternal dance of the moon and the sea, Steve’s hips mimicking the ebb and flow of the tides, pushing into Eddie again and again. Beneath him, Eddie met every thrust with his own, welcoming Steve home with a smile Steve could feel on his lips.

“I love you,” Steve whispered against Eddie’s lips, aware of how insane it might sound to anyone else, but knowing the truth of it deep in his heart. The last ten years had melted away the moment their eyes met again. After learning what had caused Eddie to walk away all those years ago, and knowing Eddie had missed him just as much as he’d missed Eddie, those old feelings that had never quite disappeared resurfaced, filling his heart until they overflowed from his lips, just like they always had.

Eddie’s eyes went wide, his grip tightening almost painfully. “Steve—”

“You don’t have to say it back, but I needed you to know. I never stopped loving you, Eddie. I don’t think I ever will.”

“Thank God, because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you, too.”

Steve captured Eddie’s mouth in another passionate kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into it. He knew that this moment would forever be one of the best of his life.

Confessing their love seemed to ignite the earlier fire between them, bringing a fresh urgency to their lovemaking. Suddenly, all Steve wanted was to feel Eddie come because of him, to see him unravel from the pleasure he gave him. His hips picked up speed as he sought the perfect angle to hit Eddie’s prostate with every thrust, each raspy ah, ah, ah from Eddie like a siren’s call he followed, focused entirely on Eddie's pleasure.

Not to be outdone, Eddie began whispering in his ear, telling him how well he was fucking him, how perfect Steve’s cock felt, how Steve was made for him, making him feel like no one else ever had. Eddie’s voice, breathless and raw, promised he couldn’t wait for Steve to fuck him bare again, his cum dripping from his used hole, wanting Steve to push it back in, to mark him as his, and his alone.

Even with the way both of them focused on chasing heights of pleasure, Steve’s orgasm still snuck up on him, the only warning the tight coil in his belly that suddenly twisted painfully. “Fuck, baby, you’re making me come.”

“I’m close, so close, I just—I need—” Eddie’s voice was husky, desperate, and Steve knew exactly what he needed.

It was a tight fit to get his hand between them—neither of them willing to have any space separating them—but Steve managed, wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s cock. It was slick with precum and sweat, easing his strokes.

The keening moans falling from Eddie’s lips told Steve just how close he was, so he allowed himself to chase his own orgasm, thrusting into Eddie with short, forceful movements while stroking him just the way he knew Eddie liked it.

And when he felt Eddie clench around him, cum spilling between them and down his fingers, Steve finally let go. He came with a low, guttural fuck, his hips stuttering, his body tightening as he pressed in as deep as he could, filling the condom.

His arms gave out beneath him like a puppet with its strings cut, and he half-sank, half-fell onto Eddie, who let out a soft oof at the weight on top of him.

“Too heavy?” Steve asked, hoping for Eddie to say no so he could stay just like this.

“No,” Eddie replied with a soft smile, probably reading his mind, “stay. Please.”

“For as long as you want me to.”

He was rewarded with a kiss that felt like both a confession and a promise. “How does forever sound?”

“Perfect,” Steve whispered. “Forever sounds perfect.”