#SO THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU ARE VERY KIND!!!!!
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‘ THAT [ GIRL ] IS MINE ! ,
ᡴꪫ sum. university still majorly sucks, and spring break is practically over. time to say goodbye to your dad’s best friend, but before you do—you have a jarring confession to make, and it’s definitely not those three words.
wc. 6.4k
warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), booty call, unprotected, size kink, praise, fıngering, cunnılingus (toji eating it from the back), degredation, dumbification, toji's very whipped for you, overstim, squırting.
an. this is the last chapter WOOOOO. thank you to everyone who read dbf! toji. may he return somedayy
girl, are you fucking stupid?
a simple question you couldn’t answer as if your life depended on it. if only you knew the deep consequences you’d face by having some careless fun on spring break. oh, but it’s just a one time thing, it’s just a little fling that won’t mean anything once april’s over. you continue to keep reminding yourself that every time you were with him. toji fushiguro—your father’s sleazy best friend, the guy who was about eight years older than your twenty-two year old self, the guy who was shameless, the guy who literally fingered you underneath the table during dinner, same said guy who makes you clean off his fingers with your tongue like the good obedient girl you were.
maybe you are fucking stupid,
spring break was coming to its inevitable end, meaning it’d be the end of your little fling with mr. fushiguro. oh and you did get caught, your father knows— but let’s not focus on that part, let’s focus on the part on how you were questioning yourself. was this love or just a game? surely it couldn’t be love, ew. toji himself said that he can’t stand relationships. you yourself was too busy with being a studious university student to even consider a significant other. so… what exactly was this peculiar feeling? a good description was a weird stir in your stomach, especially whenever he’s lay his eyes on you. alas, maybe instead of love, the feeling was entirely different.
you know what they say about karma though, it always catches up to you in the long run. oops..?
it was about three thirty in the morning. you were tossing and turning in your sleep. birds could just about be heard outside your window, chirping and chirping away. with an exaggerated sigh, you stare into the beige drywall that coats against your ceiling for a long, long time. no matter how much you tried to delay the inevitable—you had to get up, you just had to get it off your chest.
you should probably not keep this yourself..
but you pondered deeply at what his reaction might be— would he feel the same way, or would he hate you and turn a cold eye … ?
just thinking about it for such a long duration of a time made your stomach churn. at the same time though, whenever you thought about toji for too long . . that happened. you’d get aroused, having your pretty little panties in a twist.
you still question just how your father and him even met. a guy like toji isn’t really a guy you’d stumble across everyday. he mentioned to you on how he was gambling at boat races—you believed that, but still, you always did wanna know more about him.
toji was a very private man though, nothing wrong with that.
you couldn’t help but be a little curious about the man you’ve been screwing with for the past thirteen days now. thirteen days felt more like thirteen long consecutive weeks. like most, your break was supposed to only last five days to a week. it only ended up getting extended because of some kind of altercation at your campus. albeit, you didn’t ever want it to end,
but all good things do come to an end, right?
reaching for your phone, you decide to text him— you didn’t exactly expect a reply despite it being so late but still, you unlock your phone before scrolling for his contact..
< 69 Toji Fushiguro 🎥 >
Today 3:27 AM
hi toji.
u up?
• • •
Yo
Yea. Just woke up actually. Why?
lol no reason, i can’t sleep.
i miss u and i need to tell you smth
Oh?
Fuck I miss ya too, girl.
Come over then. you still got my location?
yeah be there in a bit xx
Read 3:29
locking your phone again, you take a quick thorough six minute shower. toji missed you just as much as you missed him— it’s been about a day or two or three that’s passed, of course you two wouldn’t be able to see each other every day.
it was mostly every other day. with spring break coming to a crashing depressing end, this would all be the end of your little spring season fling.
damn.
the drive to toji’s apartment was about maybe nine minutes from you. not exactly far, you’d have him come over to yours but you forgot that your father was literally next door to you. he’s already aware of what was taken place at his own home but again, let’s not focus on that part of the story.
at least not yet.. or ever,
you threw on a simple ample outfit, one of your oversized university hoodies and some leggings. something homely, something comfortable.
the weather was actually pretty decent, a bit humid but not exactly too cold either.
once you arrive at toji’s surprisingly well kept apartment, he met up with you at the door with that same smug grin. “….hey,” is all he says, eyes staring down your body for a while. you take the chance to ogle at him too. even with it being the middle of the night, he still looked handsome. with dark black hair of his a bit ruffled, toji had on nothing but obsidian black colored shorts and a white tee. his muscles, you always did feen over his mammoth-like jacked muscles. he was so toned— a lot taller than you, the epitome of what a real man was. “how was the drive? drive okay?”
“it was okay,” you mutter, stepping into his apartment. he’s holding a half empty can of cheap off brand booze, locking the door behind you as you take in the scenery. you feel a bit of butterflies rummage throughout your tummy as he slings an arm around you. it was like each time you’d meet with him again, he’d get more and more affectionate towards you. facing him, you had a cute abashed smile. “you look sleepy. did i wake you?”
“nah,” he firmly shakes his head, placing his empty can aside. toji takes off the thin coat you wore over your hoodie before hanging it up on the nearby rack for you. “i was ‘bout ‘ta get ready for work but then ya texted me.”
work.
toji never did tell you what he does for a living.
your eyebrows slightly raise. “wha— why? i can wait, just go to work.”
“dollface, really. it’s fine,” he chuckles, his voice a rough low. he leads you towards his bedroom, the bed wasn’t made up although it smelled a lot like him in here. a cheap musk of cologne fills through your nose as you sit down on his bed beside him. toji stretches, the veins in his forearms exposing ever so slightly and it’s so hot. “besides, didn’t feel like clockin’ in anyway. still gotta finish my taxes.”
“oh,” you mumble, completely lost in his gaze as he continues to speak. toji notices you staring and he smirks.
playfully, he pokes at your forehead, a teasing flick with two fingers to snap you out of whatever trance you were in. “. . soooooooo,” toji hums in a raspy pitched tone. his fingers that went against your skin was abnormally warm. “what did you wanna talk ‘ta me about?”
right, that..
suddenly, you felt your thighs squeeze together. toji’s staring at you, awaiting for a response and whilst you smother your glossed lips together, you rub the back of your neck. “oh, it can wait. it’s not that important,” damn, if looks could kill, you’d be screwed. dark green irises focus on your lips, then your eyes before back towards your pursed up lips. toji was quite familiar with your awkward body language, you lean up close to him before dragging a finger down his chest. so sensually, “like i said though, i missed you toji. i go back home tomorrow.”
“you’re lying, doll,” he whispers, letting your finger run down the middle part of his chest. a few bristles of chest hair pokes through his white tank before he raises a brow. “but fine,” and he grabs you to sit right on his lap. instinctively, your arms wrap around his broad neck. the closer you got, the more you got a good whiff of him. his cologne was so strong, it made you dizzy. “i missed ya more. and that’s right, y’er spring break’s ‘bout to end,” and you almost moan at feeling his clammy hands squeeze against your thighs. “excited to go back?”
“no,” you grumble, a grouse hiding underneath your tone. he slyly smiles, a thumb skimming against your skin. “i don’t wanna leave yet.”
“well girl then jus’ stay,” he rolls his eyes, forever a sassy, sassy man. “and, i find it kinda amusing. the whole point of your spring break was to visit your father ‘n you basically spent it all with me,” and his eyes run down your body, pulling you up close to kiss the outside of your neck. “ain’t complainin’ though.”
you pout, he had a point. “i can’t stay, my campus is like five hours away,” and you moan a bit from the softness of his lips meeting against your tender skin. “maybe.. you could visit me though.”
“eh. we’ll see.”
moments pass before you find yourself making out with toji. it lasts for a good while, ten precise minutes exactly. his hands free-for-all all over your body, the warmth of his hot breath goes against yours. the bitter taste of rich booze lingers on his breath, it’s chemically and it almost burns, yet it’s addictive. toji’s taste alone was addictive. you moan, feeling him ghost a big hand between your thighs to locate your arising heat. your leggings could only conceal your arousal for so long. his eyes were barely open, half-lidded as another hand travels up your hoodie. stubby fingers of his drag against your skin in such a way that you couldn’t help but grind against his lap.
toji grunts, deepening the passionate kiss—his tongue was so sweet, occasionally sucking against yours. perhaps he did miss you more than you missed him. with his head slightly cocked back to a certain angle, you start to hear and feel your own breaths shudder.
everything was going so fast yet slow, he parts his lips a bit further before you feel a hand of his reach all the way down between your legs. after a while of mashing teeth and sucking against tongues together, he pulls away. “y’er still as nasty as i remember. walkin’ around with no fuckin’ panties, huh?”
“nasty for you,” you whine, feeling his rough hands tug all over your body. swiftly, a hand snakes underneath your thighs. he runs a single thumb down your soaked slit and he guffaws. with a sly grin, he leans in to kiss more against your neck. so tender, he knew all the right spots to make you whimper out and squirm. his balmy hot breath resuming to collide against your skin made you bite your lip, an arm still throwing around his neck. “you don’t like me wearing panties anyway.”
“well yeah,” he sneers, his touch going further against your pre-soaked clit. you were already a bit drenched and he hums. “i steal them from ya regardless. my ‘lil souvenir. besides, what’s the point of wearin’ those things when y’er always this fuckin’ soaked.”
you moan, feeling him insert a single finger inside. his fingers were always so thick, stretching you out probably even better than his dick ever could. almost as if your entrance was elastic with how good it stretches. it’s his middle finger, then it sporadically turns into two— two thickset fingers prodding inside your slick heat.
you coat his digits so well with your syrupy arousal, he glances at you with a simper as you clamp around them both at once. “you get more nastier for me every time,” he murmurs, slowly swirling his fingers inside you. you’re clinging onto his neck tightly, feeling that strain in your lungs drag out as you pant. “drivin’ around this wet, girl i ‘oughta spank ya.”
“do it then.”
he glares at you before you gasp. toji lightly shoves you into the bed and you flop down, uttering out a soft ‘oof.’ landing on the sound mounds of your chest, he yanks down your leggings fully before meanly kissing the right cheek of your ass with his palm. “do it then,” he mocks you, pitching his naturally gruff tone to your own. “shut the fuck up,” and the sting feels good, his fingers were now out of you and again, you pout. clamping around nothing now, you were quite really just arched over his bare knee. “have ya been touchin’ y’erself lately? tell me.”
“no,” you lie, and that earns another spank— you moan out, the feeling of his palm was so hot at first touch. quite literally, the sting made you twinge before you grip onto his bulky thighs. “haven’t touched myself, swear.”
“oh bye, don’t bullshit me, sweetheart,” toji mutters, and you’re just dangling over his knee.
occasionally, the coolish air against his room would waft right against your skin. “known ya for a good what, two weeks? i can tell y’er lying,” and the way his voice pitches— it’s so rough, gravelly.
the baritone in his voice never fails to make you wet, so deep. you didn’t really know a good way to describe toji’s voice, all you knew was that it was raspy as hell. heavily and utterly raspy to the point where even him whispering against your ear was enough to have you drenched. “don’t like ya touchin’ her when ‘m not around,” he clicks his tongue, caressing your bare stinging ass. you’re panting, aching for him to just hurry up, to do something. toji cackles, noticing from how impatient you were simply from your body language. “aw. am i talkin’ too much for the pretty girl? you bein’ over my knee not enough to satisfy ya?”
you sigh, wriggling your ass a bit and he spanks it again just to watch the recoil bounce against your skin.
“t— tojiiii. just fuck me already.” you grumble, you didn’t really care how whiny you sounded.
it was late at night and you were horny. that was for sure pretty much all you knew. besides, despite it being about two to three days since you last saw him, yeah.. maybe that wasn’t even long of an absence— but you did kind of miss toji.
more importantly, you missed his little friend between his legs.
“i’ll fuck ya when i wanna,” he gruffs. you whine once he sprawls your legs open a bit more. toji stares at your ass, spreading them to see your sloppy cunt opening for him. a sweet little meet and greet. so wet, you’re still laid over his lap before he leans down. “shh. listen to her,” is all he says. whilst he’s inching his face closer, two exact seconds later you feel toji’s saliva trickle into your pulsating entrance. oh. he spat on your pussy, he was quite direct with it too. he then gathers a long stringy wad of gossamer-like spit before spitting it right between your swollen folds. you bite your lip hard, forgetting how much of a nasty man he was. “yeah she’s missed the fuck outta me.”
toji was purely fluent in pussy talk. it was common for him. he’d always refuse to your cunt as ‘she’ as if she had a name or something.
no shame, shameless— toji brings a thumb towards your clit, rubbing against it just so you could hear the squelches you made yourself.
“you used a toy, baby?” he hums, sliding his tongue against his lips, against the scar that slants against his skin oh-so-sexily..
“y-yeah,” you whimper, the coldness of his saliva making you shudder within his hold. your breathing became more rapid as you tighten the hold on his legs. “magic wand. i jus’ wanted to try it.”
“tch… magic fuckin’ wand,” he snarls, actually sounding quite offended.
continuing to drag and skim his fat thumb down your slit, you mewl out. you’re effortlessly soaking his single slender digit with such sheeny amounts of your sweet. “bet ya didn’t even know what the fuck you were doin.’ how long it take ‘ta make you finish?”
you’re panting now, trying to recall your lewd moments with your sweet beloved hitachi, it was expensive too.
you bought it from some shady link online, one of your friends recommended it to you so you shrugged it off, saying why not. besides, you hardly ever have time to play with yourself anyway. even more now that you had toji.
“like … maybe thirty minutes.” you exhale deeply, the fast paced strokes of his fingers making your eyes almost roll back. so so good, all he was really doing was skimming his fingers against your sopping wet entrance— barely even doing anything, yet you were still a mess.
toji chuckles, making you get off his lap before laying you face first on the mattress. he grabs your waist, pulling your ass upward to stick out before he gets up close for a nice direct view. “aw. thirty minutes? thirty minutes when it can only take me five with my tongue?”
“f-fuckkk.” you start to babble, his warm breath fanning all against your exposed cunt.
it cools against your skin, sending each nerve that resides inside of your entrance to spiral uncontrollably. toji had you arched all over, arched over like some slut.
to be fair, if the shoe fits you might as well wear it.
“dunno if ya deserve to be eaten out,” he speaks in a low undertone. your dilated pupils roll way back at his simple touch.
he teasingly brings his tongue towards your pussy, it’s retting, sloppily so. toji drags two fingers and you eagerly coat his digits with such salaciously, lewd arousal. “mhm. look at that, fuckin’ drenched. my favorite waterpark,” and he spits against your folds once more before snickering darkly. “jus’ thinkin’ you used those useless hands on this pretty pussy makes me ill.”
oh, you’re about to lose it..
he was stalling, more talking and less eating.
instead, it should have been vice versa.
you’re a mover, writhing in his lap, still hunched over with a cute arch before he spanks your ass.
“little girl, cut that shit out,” he grunts and abruptly, you feel the coldness of his flat tongue finally lap against your pussy.
immensely, your mouth forms into an ‘o’. if it was anything toji fushiguro knew how to do well, it was that he knew how to eat.
he ate you out like it was the end of the fucking world, as if your pussy was the only food remaining left in stock.
you gnaw on your bottom lip further, gasping once he wastes no time to dig in.
. . slow slow sluuuurps,
he makes sure you hear how wet you were on his mouth. just downright filthy, his tongue lays itself flat before he nibbles all against your throbbing clit.
“o-oh my god, toji, hngh,” you’d babble out in pathetic sweet sobs. with his tongue scrapping against your entrance, creating suction with his mouth had you stupid.
as your maw dramatically drops, he’s eating you from the back. there’s a concise dull moment where he pauses. with big two rough hands, he spreads your ass open fully. “f-fuuuck.” you moan, feeling him blow his warm breath all against your puffed folds.
from behind, you hear his sexy low titter before he resumes—yet this time, he lolls his pink tongue all the way out, so fucking long..
and as he does, he licks from the very bottom of your cunt until he’s reaching near your puckering hole— he’s never acknowledged that spot before, your ass.
your eyes widen, a clamoring gasp exits from your lips before he spits against it, lathering his tongue everywhere. he likes it wet, more importantly though, he likes it nasty.
“arch that back more for me, bend girl, bend,” he coos in a muffled tone— purely speaking with his mouth full. his stubble tickles against your pussy and your back voluntarily moves itself forward. a curve, he found it so appealing,
so . . amusing.
“there mphm we go baby, good girl. keep that head on the bed. ‘m fuckin’ starved.”
you’re clinging tight onto one of toji’s satin covered pillows, feeling his tongue roam everywhere. it knew no bounds. your heart starts to race at a more rapid speed the second he sneakily dips his tongue back into your needy clit.
he passionately sucks against the clitoral hood before using a hand to smack your ass every single time you squirm.
after about probably the nth time of his lewd escapades with his tongue, he starts to prod his calloused fingertips near your entrance once more. his fingers featuring his tongue, oh you were really no match.
“imgonnacumimgonnacumimgonna—”
“mhm, bet ya are,” he rasps, a deep chuckle dragging out of his throat.
the way your body responds to him was so cute. “keep that ass up ‘n y’er face down,” he orders, earning another vicious smack on the rear from him. you’re moaning, feeling yourself start to spasm. toji occasionally breaks his lips away to kiss near your ankle, your thighs, anywhere but your cunt and he knows how much you hated that.
the teasing— he’d purposely stop just to move his lips elsewhere, watching you fidget in such obscene anticipation. “don’t fuckin’ cum yet.”
“but—”
“but shit. you heard me,” he groans, bringing his mouth back towards between your legs. you whine, feeling him roll out his tongue before slurping up such a good amount of your syrupy taste.
with your toes curling, stomach seizing, you couldn’t stop shaking.
so damn good, his buttony nose rubs against your folds and it tickles for a split second. the stimulation has your mind going for a loop, you even slip your hands underneath your sweatshirt just to touch on your sensitive perky nipples. “wait for me. hold it, yeah.”
but of course, you didn’t listen,
your body had other plans.
it was inevitable, your orgasm ignored toji anyway, you’re ponderously throbbing.
the pulse between your thighs only grow more briskly before you realize you’re drooling all over his bedsheets.
oh, the feeling felt so delicious, your jaw remains open and you feel so much pressure. so much, his tongue still grazes against your slit before you shriek out, gasping for whatever air was left. it was quick, very very quick.
it’s speed..
it’s tempo was like lightning speed—a bolt that flashes within a blink of an eye, concentric circles steadily building up within your lower abdomen pooling up with heat before it just snaps,
you came.
“o-oh fuck, f-fuuuck, toji,”
suddenly, the room grows quiet. you knew toji didn’t like for you to finish early—especially finishing after he tells you to wait, but oh well.
you couldn’t help it, and the orgasm he just gave you was so good, mouth watering. with weak legs that could barely stand up it’s on own, you inhale a single sharp breath before you’re flipped over quickly.
“the fuck did i just tell you?”
“s-sorry,” you giggle, sprawled all on his bed. your eyes immediately meet the gaze of his shorts, they were half on. he’s got a bulge going on, a hard one at that. his black boxers briefly stick out and it’s so attractive—you catch a glimpse of his happy trail from his tank top that was pulled up just a bit, exposing a bit of his skin. sharp v-line, slim snatched waist.
slut..
god, he was so jacked. the more you stare at his sculptured body, the more you fantasized about how he could just toss you around the—
“oh, is somethin’ funny to you?” he utters lowly, and his tone— he sounds ticked off, he’s barely even raising his tone, projecting it but you still hear the slight rasp to it. you just got even more soaked. “was gonna let ya ride me but i don’t wanna stare at a brat right now.”
“h-huh?” you reply, and then your face was met against the plush mattress again.
you lewdly mewl out a whimper once he spanks your ass, a hand grabbing onto your hip.
“don’t act like ya can’t here me, girl. bring that ass up a bit more,” and you gasp, feeling him drag your hips a bit closer towards his slim waist. “yeah.” he breathes, having a gentle yet firm grip on you.
rough coarse fingertips glide up against your own hips as you feel him take a second to align himself. fuck, you missed this.
you missed him.
in the midst of toji already pulling down his shorts and boxers— he then grabs ahold of his thick cock, giving it a few solid strokes.
he was so hard, leaky tip glistening with pre that he wished he made you lick the top off.
but it was far too late, he just wanted to be inside, just as much as you wanted him inside. the crown of his cock was so fat, even with toji being slow to ease himself inside, he’s still practically splitting you open.
“shit, i missed this,” he grunts in a hoarse tone whilst he’s going inside you.
“f-fuck,” you bawl up the creamy white sheets into your fists.
you almost forgot just how big he was, despite it only being a good three days without feeling him stretch you out.
toji groans, feeling the subtle tightness of your walls adjust to him like always— it usually lasts a second or two. he’s furthering himself in, already about to bottom out.
he’s already niiice and snug. a perfect fit,
every. single. time.
toji rarely does doggy with you because he prefers staring at your face— solely to make fun of your little facial expressions. but whenever you were bent over for him on all fours, it was simply an experience you never wanted to end. “oh fuck m-me,” you croak, feeling him yank harshly against the hood of your hoodie. you bump back against him and that’s when he unhurriedly starts to create an unkempt, sloppy pace.
it was rhythmic, he starts off slow before strenuously pounding into you.
churning up your sweet savory insides like butter, you clamp around him so good that it makes his abs tense up. “mhm,” he tugs tighter against the fabric that was thrown over you from the torso up. dark eyes of his flicker toward your ass, each time he moves, your ass moves.
in full compatibility, the sheer skin slaps was brutal. your head was spinning like a merri-go-‘round, strained inhales pulling your heaving lungs every few milliseconds. “. . girl,” toji groans, and you moan once he gives your ass a spank again for probably the umpteenth time today. his voice, every syllable he drags out in that deep hoarsely voice of his had you so soaked. “fuck back against me, c’mon. ‘s a two way street, baby.”
“y-you’re so fuckin’ big though,” you whine, pawing into the soft cushions of his comforter.
“awww,” he utters in a faux, sympathetic tone.
he leans against you, so close to where he’s basically in prone bone— no more doggy.
he’s so deep that the tip of his dick prods all against your secluded g-spot. toji’s hefty weight hovers against your bare ass and you moan melodically. “i’m big, yeah?” and a colossal, veiny hand of his wraps around your throat. gentle, barely any pressure but a good amount to make you whine again. “but y’er doin’ so good, was jus’ about to praise you but you don’t want praises, huh,” and you’re falling in love time and time again with his sensual yet reckless rhythm. the way the bed rocks and shakes in harmony, you’re at a lost of words.
speechless, breathless, every -less word by this point.
he was hitting you so deep, every angle.
so thorough,
his hips were sharp— your moans grow louder the moment he gets right up against you, a hand gripping into your hair rigidly. mercilessly, a hand lightly digs into your scalp as he’s holding your head up. toji’s damn near balls deep now, making sure you feel every consecutive thrust. “some nerve, textin’ me at three am just to fuck this sloppy cunt,” and his hot breath fans against your neck. you whine once you feel his tongue slide against your sensitive collarbone. so deep—you were sure he’s just jackhammering his cock into you by this point. each movement was pivotal, he was precise with the way his hips snapped against you. whiplash got you good, you’re currently just a babbling mess listening to his crude words. “but i bet ‘s more than that, yeah? you wanted to tell me somethin’ so just tell me.”
“n-not yet,” a sweet moan dies out your throat.
toji rolls his eyes— this girl, he’s thinking in his head. you were testing his patience, a stubborn little thing. one of the many things he’s liked about you. “fuck, h-harder toji. harder.”
“sloooow? i can do slow,” he replies in a deriding tone, and his deep thrusts turn into satirical unserious, slow pumps. you whine, he lets go of your hair and you just plop down on your chest. he knew what you wanted, he knew how you liked to be fucked, and yet he was just being a tease.
toji fucking fushiguro for you.
he’s always been rough with you, treating you like nothing more than a mere rag doll at times. there’s been sweet affectionate moments too, rarely, but it has its moments.
toji’s infatuation with you only grows, the more he spends time with you the more he even starts to question himself.
you’ve got him whipped.. precisely with your pussy, yes, but whipped in another way completely. he didn’t know how to describe it, mainly because it was nothing to describe,
indescribable.
he couldn’t put anything to words—especially whenever he was deep in your guts, mashing your cunt around with his cock like homemade dough. kneading it with his tip,
stretch, mold, ply, repeat..
he’s doing all that with his dick. he sucks his teeth, a tsk escapes from his mouth before he spanks your ass— bringing you right back to reality.
“fuckin’ gonna milk the shit out of me,” he groans, his hips all sloppy and vigorous.
toji’s so close to you that by now, he brings a foot up to press against the back of your neck. you gasp, really feeling just how deep he was inside your cunt.
the wool of his sock presses against your neck as your face was smushed against the satiny sheets. “mhm, that’s it girl, take it. take that shit. milk my fuckin’ cock, fuuuck.”
his groans get louder, you’re so wet it’s ludicrously sloshing against him and you’re all doe-eyed and dumb.
emphasis on dumb, not a single thought was embedded into your brain.
as his hips keenly buck against you, you’re breathing shallowly, trying to keep a good momentum against him before you whine.
you were close again, yet this time— something else was approaching,
something more . . provocative.
your legs shake and shake, your jaw aches from how much your teeth is shattering amongst each other before you feel him grab onto your wrist.
he pins it behind your back whilst he’s still fucking you raw.
broad, clammy hands of his roam down your voluptuous body, taking in to snag a feel of your curves, your pretty physique, everything..
beads of sweat droplets start to race down the sides of toji’s naturally dark brows— he huffs and puffs, the girth of his dick only stretching out inside of you even further.
you’re a babbling mess, the arch in your back was so cute that it makes him throb. you feel the throb that lingers from his dick, it pulsates at such a meteoric pace that it has you pulsing in response.
“where do ya want it,” he grumbles with a soft vexing pout on his lips. toji was trying his best to maintain composure—but he was flustered, the more he leers down your back, down your pretty structured spine, the more he’s starting to adapt this unexplainable feeling. “best fuckin’ tell m—”
“inside,” you purr out, your voice all strained and a raucous from the immense amounts of moans that left your throat. “i-inside, wanna feel you again, ‘n again, ‘again..”
toji snickers, swiping a tongue against his lips before he slows himself down for you to adjust.
you’re preparing to finish with him— he coos right up against your ear, sticking two fingers in your mouth. “finish with me, princess. ‘m givin’ you this one chance,” and he deepens his voice all the way down, balls so deep inside that you feel a faint gape stretch you whole.
you’re compressing him down tight with your gummy walls before you feel the slimy friction of pure sweat sticking against your own skin. “you gonna be a good girl ‘n cum on my cock? or a bad girl who’s not even listenin’ to a damn thing ‘m saying.. ?”
“c-cum, toji, mphm,” you choke out a sweet desperate wail, feeling one of his bulky arms wrap around your torso. “wanna cum.”
as you spoke, your words were merely muffled from his thick digits shoving inside of your sloppy, needy mouth. his warmth, once it skids against your skin, it never ever leaves.
you think you’re about to cum but instead, you gush out.
violently, electricity courses through your veins. vibration after vibration pulses throughout your body and you’re hysterical,
it’s so abrupt, so intense..
you’re squirting, coating his dick with your honeydew arousal from the base down.
he chuckles at your body’s initial response, how you’re finding it impossible to stay still. you’re clenching around his shaft still, mouth all open, eyes wide as big as restaurant saucers.
swooning, you’re swooning from his length and that’s when you whimper once he groans right in your ear.
the raspiness, it’s got you drenched— drenched like a faucet, the sensation was beyond pleasurable.
toji ends up following seconds after, it hits him harder. like a truck, it comes at full speed before you’re met with such absurd milky ropes of his seed. it shoots out quick, but it’s thick. you get quiet, hearing the sloshing spurts trickle its way inside of you. “f-fuck,” he stutters, a shaky breath following as he slides his fingers out of your mouth. a trailing glimmering cobweb of your own spit drags from his two fingers as he’s dumping knots and knots of cum into your sweet, starving cunt. “saved so much f’r you, feel it deep ‘n y’er womb, doll?”
“y-yes.” you swallow, a multitude of moans emit from you before he slowly pulls out.
oh, the sight of it all. one of toji’s favorite parts was to simply gawk at the mess he created, taking in the mess he made you.
a messy girl.
the messiest, your chest feels tight and you’re heaving.
he licks his lips, staring at your ass with hazy eyes. his own cum oozes out of your hole and he just wants to lick it, plug it back into you and give you another thick load.
that’ll come soon enough— as much as he had stamina equivalent to a near stallion, he needed a little break. his chest felt like it was about to explode.
“fuck,” he collapses against his side of the bed, reaching towards his thigh to scratch it.
as if on instinct, you crawl towards him, an arm wraps around you and he pulls you closer. your head presses against his chest. you hear his rapid heart beat and he murmurs out a husky, “good girl,” and he leans in to kiss the crown of your head. “gimme a minute though. ‘m not as young as i used to be, y’know.”
you giggle, a simper stretching across your face as the time passes.
instantaneously, it gets quiet for a moment before you suddenly remember why you even came here . . for one last time.
“toji,” you utter, attempting to catch your breath.
you were still heaving with lungs full of build up oxygen, panting a bit before he glances down at you with that unreadable, naturally stern expression.
a hand of yours strums down his pecs seductively, playing with the curly chest hair that remains stuck against his skin. “i’ll um . . tell you what i wanted to say earlier.”
“let me go first.”
with your eyebrows slightly furrowing, you glance up at him and he stares up at the ceiling before back at you. “about a week back, at y’er dad’s place, i told ya i loved you,” and his breath hitches for a moment— even saying something as sentimental as that made him cringe.
you figure he was being serious though because his sudden eye contact never left yours. “you never gave me an answer back.”
“. . . oh,” you sheepishly say, remembering the exact encounter he was referring to. you then lean up to toji, gingerly planting your lips against the right side of his mouth where his tender scar resides. “you didn’t hear me? i said i love you too, toji.”
his chest feels all warm and mushy, you love him?
“you do?” he replies, being taken aback. this entire situation was messy as is, but again, they do say the heart knows what it wants.
you nod, repeating yourself before pulling him into a quick three second kiss. “i love you, toji.”
. . .
. . . is what he thought you was gonna say.
far from it actually, you’re sat in the passenger seat of toji’s car before you lightly tap him on the shoulder. he’s parked, slouched back against his seat before he snaps out of his erotic phantasm. he was dropping you off back home,
oh right.
home.
“toji? did you even hear a word i just said?”
“huh? yeah, you said you loved me too.”
“no … i didn’t. what?” you scrunch up your face, the most perplexed expression of all.
that was nothing you said, with a sheepish expression, you mutter out the words he’d never thought he’d hear you say. “toji, i said i’m pregnant.”
. .
happy spring fucking break.
#★vegasbaby.#toji smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji x you#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x reader smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk drabbles#anime smut#female reader#cw sex mention
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A new business started up in Metropolis by the name of MastersCo. Headed by man who simply goes by the name Masters who just happens to have a large lion with black fur, mane, and red eyes.
Now, as any sane person would think, Masters is the ultimate brain behind MastersCo's brilliant, brutal, ruthless, and utterly efficient business practices that let the seemingly nobody company rise to one of the largest in the city and the world at large.
A fact thag Lex Luthor is both impressed by, and utterly hates for the simple fact he is a targe of an unfortunate amount of those practices.
But you see, in reality, it is the lion that, according to Masters himself. Was an experiment that he managed to save from his brutal captors when he was being trafficked on accident one day and as such, was the reason he made his company in the first place. That is the brains of the opperation.
Who is the lion, truly? Well...
None other than Vlad Masters himself, of course!
Who just so happened to be on the wrong side of his own tech that was supposed to target none other than the hero Phantom. Turning him into a random animal and causing his powers to be temporarily out of control long enough for him to open a portal to another dimension entirely and push him through to get him out of the way and then some.
He never expected that he would be the victim of his scheme. He had Danny right where he wanted him and that, unfortunately, made him cocky. Cocky enough that Danny reversed the tides and it ended up being him to turn i to an animal and forced into another dimension.
He knew he should have had the portal activation be manual instead of automated.
In a last act of desperation, he tried to drag Danny along with him. He failed.
So then there he was, trapped in the form of a lion with powers that did not heed his wishes and, ubfortunately, about to be sold off to the highest bidder. He, of course, would not have gone down without a fight and managed to pull off an act that crashed the container he was teapped in with the casualty of death to those who tried to turn him into a profit. Forrtunately, he was then saved by a man too curious for his own good and had his wounds treated well enough.
Let it be known that Vlad Masters does not forget kindness shown to him, especially when it pertains to his very own life. So he restared VladCo, now known as MastersCo and turned it into an empire in return. Though it also doubled as a rescue for other 'animals like him' he didn't really mind nor care about that fact.
He dislikes Lex Luthor because the man called him a pet. Him a pet. The Vlad Masters, a mere pet!?
The utter gall of that man, truly.
He also holds a dislike for Superman as well, not to the extend of Lex Luthor, but the amount of property damage that man creares is astounding not to mention the fact he exposed Vlads rather... unique heartbeat situation. From nothing of good intent, he has since realized, but still.
He coukd have done without that, thank you very much.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#dc x dp crossover#typed on me phone#just a random idea I had#Lex Luthor called Vlad a pet and Vlad has since hounded his ass since#Vlad is appalled by the amount of property damage Superman creates#which he has to spend money for because the one in charge of the business is a 'bleeding heart' type#which helped Vlad out but still-
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hello!! please could i request one where the reader is an OG member of the IC and very close to azriel (she knows that he’s her mate, he doesn’t) and sister-like to the rest of the IC. once feyre and her sisters come about, she often confides with feyre so they’re also close.
anyway, there’s an important event for the reader on day and she expected the rest of the IC would join her (she invited them?) but no one turned up and she’s absolutely exhausted, emotionally and physically, by the end of the day.
when she’s back, everyone is together at the house having fun and one of them notices she so dressed up but looked exhausted. maybe someone says something snarky and there’s an argument. azriel defends the snarky person so reader and azriel have an argument (hurtful words towards the reader) and that’s when the mating bond snaps for az and he’s regretful. things happen but happy ending for the reader, az and the IC. thank you 🫶🏼💗
Odd One Out
Summary - After 500 years of friendship, the last thing you ever expected was the Inner circle to miss one of your symphonies. But you know what they say, time changes people.
Warnings - I warned you all to watch out for angst, right? Elain being catty, reader feeling lonely, Azriel being an idiot
A/N - I promise Bound by Fate is still coming. I'm just constantly rereading it and not happy with where it's at. It's probably because I needed this out of my system. I hope this is close enough to what you were looking for! It wrote itself, so I'm worried it may stray too far from the ask! Please let me know if it did.
✨️ Azriel Masterlist✨️
Maybe you had asked too much again. You looked to where the empty seats for the Inner Circle and Archeron sisters sat one last time before moving forward. You had worked too hard on this symphony to let this stop you. You were the last to go on stage, the conductor in her gorgeous sparkling gown and heels. You were the picture perfect face of composure as you bowed before turning and raising your hands.
You were introduced to Rhysand at a young age, and the two of you were quickly friends, so when he became High Lord, a place at his side was handed to you without question. You were eloquent, elegant, and kind. You were perfect for the position of emissary, and you single handedly won him friendships and alliances among every court aside from Spring.
He had never stopped you from pursuing passion, though. Your father had forced you into harp lessons from the tender age of 4 until his untimely death. He sat by your side for hours, teaching you to speak through letters written on a sheet that so fee could truly understand. It was an escape that turned into a career. One Rhysand specifically built the amphitheater you currently stood on for. The music you wrote woke emotion on the High Lord and all of Velaris, quickly making you one of the most popular females in the City of Starlight.
No one enjoyed your music more than Azriel's shadows, though. Nor did anyone enjoy you the way they did. How they knew you two were mates while he sat clueless and doting on Elain would never make sense to you, but the shadow turning your sheet music for you tonight was at least a small comfort, even if your family, mainly his master, was not here in their resevered High box seats.
You were exhausted when your arms lowered for the close of the show. You stood to the side, plastering a small faked smile on your graceful features as you held your arm to the orchestra, signaling for their bows before taking your own and leaving. You were the last one there, sharing thank yous and goodbyes as you musicians left. You chose to be alone for a while on the harp that sat in your sound room at the theater. You had a song in your mind, and you needed to let it speak before it left. Even if it was created from a place of raw emotion. It was near midnight when you finished, leaving the new composition to sit until you returned tomorrow.
You could hear the drunken laughter the second you walked into the old Riverhouse, the one you and Azriel made home as the mates of the Inner Circle began occupying the other houses, and signed as you removed your heels and picked them up into white tipped manicured nails. "Y/n!" Cassian's booming drunk voice slammed into you as he did. "Where have you been, baby?"
It was Nesta who gasped, looking at the clock on the wall before whispering a soft oh no as she saw your dress. Nesta who covered her mouth, eyes beginning to water as she shook her head and stared. Nesta who glared to Feyre.
"Why do you look so dolled up?" Rhys had a slight flush to his face, a wide smile as he took you in. "Hot date?"
You couldn't help but stare, shaking your head as your throat tightened. "You all seriously don't remember." Rhys knitted his brow thinking, and his face slowly fell.
"Y/n Darling, I am-"
You put your hand up to him before he could finish, shaking your head as the tears actually fell. "Save it. Spare me your lies and excuses." Cassian looked to Nesta and then Rhys, his own face falling next as he remembered.
"The symphony."
"Was beautiful, regardless of my support system deciding wine and board games were more important than the first live art performance in Velaris since our high lord was captured." Your voice was shaking as you looked up, avoiding Hazel eyes that were wide in shock as every single ounce of heart ache you felt hit him.
The bond finally snaps, his shadows hissed. We've been reminding you all day. And now you've hurt our mate. Ours. We went. Where were you?
"Maybe if you were actually good at writing music, we would have remembered." Mor's glass of wine hit the floor as your breath stilled. Rhys felt his hands fall from Feyre's lap as she audibly said Elain's name in an insulted tone. Amren was immediately held back by Varian. "Obviously, if the people who you claim you're so important to did not see making time to go a priority, we did not miss much."
Cassian heard your breath shutter. You stared to Azriel, waiting for him to come to your defense and not realizing his silence was due to shock from the bond and Elain's sudden cattiness. "Very well. I see I am no longer wanted, and I will not stay where I am not wanted," the whisper was all anyone could hear as you turned and walked away. The door shut behind you, and as if the Mother truly hated you, rain began falling softly, and you made your way back to the amphitheater.
Azriel had never shoved someone off his lap as quickly as he did Elain in that moment. But it was Rhysand who spoke, "How. Dare. You." The High lord went to stand, grabbing his jacket. "When your sister was dying, I sent her y/n's music. The mobile you play for our son every night, is y/n's music. The music that plays in Hewn City is y/n's music. She is an essential part of my circle, my family. How dare you tell her that her passion, her joy, and her career mean nothing to us."
Azriel backed away from Elain. "Your true colors disgust me, Elain Archeron." He studied her, truly studied her for the first time as the door slammed shut following Rhysand's exit. "That is my friend, my closest friend. You just hurt her like it was nothing. Cut her so deeply you will never be able to repair it."
"Well, if she mattered so much you all would have remembered."
Feyre spoke then, between heavy sobs, "I wrote down the wrong date. I wrong down tomorrow night for opening night. We were going to take her to dinner. It was supposed to be Nyx's first concert. This is my fault."
"Again, proof it didn't matter." Elain sipped her white wine as if Feyre had all but solidified her opinion.
"Get out," the growl from Azriel took everyone by surprise. "Get out of my home. You are no longer welcome here."
He was out the door, running to catch up to Rhysand in the rain, but missing the High Lord. He entered the amphitheater drenched and in silence, sitting next to where Rhysand was in the dark.
You were on stage playing violin as you always did when your heart was breaking. Every stroke of the strings had the bond growing tight before you dimmed it on your end, as if each movement of the bow, each note, was you whispering goodbye. "She told me she is leaving," Rhysand rubbed his face next to Azriel. It was then he saw the tears staining the perfect features of the High Lord. "She said this is my last performance before she leaves for Dawn."
"There's nothing we can do then?" Rhysand shook his head at the question before his head fell into his hands and his shoulders wrecked into sobs. "She's my mate."
"I know," Rhysand looked to the stars. "I've known for years. She never said anything, and now she never will. What little piece we had left is gone. Her light had been blown out by Elain's statements."
"Let me-"
"Just please stop talking and let me enjoy this."
It was the song he had sent Feyre under the mountain. A score that read of hope through pain.
And hope was all Azriel could hold on to as you stood and bowed, winnowing away as soon as you were finished.
General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects
#elizabeths.updates#send asks#acotar#acotar x reader#azriel acotar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#inner circle x reader#azriel fic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#theres potential for a part 2
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so long, london ☆ ln4
genre: angst, toxic relationship traits, fluff, humor, established relationship, one-sided, smut
word count: 7.3k
You've never been read so easily by someone until he entered your world. All is good, all is true love, but realistically, that all comes crumbling down. Leaving you with a series of doubts. The kind you ignore because why not?
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...penetrative sex, m!receiving, f!receiving
inspired by this and this !
To be completely fair, the accent wasn’t all that familiar to you. It’s odd, then alluring, then it makes you curl a brow. Australian? British? Irish—no, that’s too far off, ridiculous, really.
It’s the end of spring, which means it’s also the start of summer, which also means your job is in full force. Which is good if you’re still considering transferring to London to study abroad. You were, thank you very much, which is why you needed a shit load of money.
Being a waitress isn’t all that bad; the view was breathtaking. Laguna Beach has always been and always will be. It’s impossible to take away its charm.
The diner is small, yet crowded, so it’s hard to get through with a stack of breakfast plates atop one another. A piece of bacon slips past you as you let out a curse, mentally noting to clean it up on your way back. “An order of pancakes, french toast, two hashbrowns, bacon, four freshly squeezed orange juice—shit. I forgot, it was grapefruit, wasn’t it?”
Setting down the plates as carefully as you can with their assistance, you let out a sigh. “I’ll be right back—”
“It’s fine, mate. Orange juice is just as good.” His voice is soft and rough, all at once.
You halt, fixing your apron, awkwardly. “No, it was my mistake, I’ll fix it—”
Mmm, delicious, his friends chime in as they take a sip from the fresh beverage. The blue eyed boy signals with his dark brows. “Told you. Don’t worry about it.”
“Cool,” you mumble. “Enjoy. Oh, and let me know if you need anything.”
They don’t, which is quite upsetting since you were slightly curious to find out if you were right. Smoking a joint, you hear a loud cough. The mysterious brunette waves. “Tough shift?”
“Of course not, I love it.”
He nods. “I’m sure you do, but I’m also sure that’s not the complete truth.” He sits. “You’re on your break, I presume, which means you're not on the clock, which means I’m no longer a customer, but rather just a stranger. A stranger whom you will most likely never see again, so…”
A puff expands through the blue sky and yellow sun. You squint. “I’m worn out. Down. Worn down? Both.”
“You’re good at hiding it.”
A chuckle. “But you were able to notice which obviously means I’m not much of an actress.”
He motions over to the cigarette. You hesitantly hand it over to him as he sucks sharply and releases. Bemused, you make a face. “I was because I go through the same thing, oftentimes. More like all the time.” Another hit. “I understand.”
“I’m not sure whether I should feel seen or scared…” Humor laces your soft voice as you quirk a brow. He laughs.
“Seen, definitely.” A beat. “I’m Lando. Foreign visitor.”
Shaking his hand, you ease up, smiling, gently. “Nice to meet you, Lando—foreign visitor.” A pause. “Resident.”
“Really, now?” He plays along, teasing. You can hear it.
“Lucky, I know. Been here my entire life. Can’t complain.”
“I bet.”
“Yourself?”
Lando winces. “England. Bristol, specifically. Ever been?” Nope. A toothy grin. “Don’t—rains all day long, gloomy all year. It’s depressing, but…” He relaxes. “It’s home.”
Staring off into the waves, you cover your face from the strong breeze. Salt air splits your tongue in half as you wipe your mouth. “Your accent. It’s captivating. As soon as I heard it, I grew jealous.”
The Brit frowns. “Your accent is much better. Clean,” he adds and you let out a snort. Accent—what accent? He rolls his blue eyes. “That one. You might not consider it one, but it is. Very…pretty.” A rosy tint flourishes onto his cheeks. Summer heat, summer breeze, perhaps.
Retreating the roll from his hand, you stomp on it, letting the light die. “Thank you, Lando from England. You made my day.”
-
That’s the end, really. Just a nice encounter that still doesn’t make much sense, but you’re glad it happened. Normally, after a tiring shift, you borrow Benny’s surfboard and rush towards the killer waves. The soothing water releases a lot of the built up tension that lies between your shoulder blades.
Today isn’t much different. After getting yelled at for— “getting the fucking order wrong, bitch” —and— “my toddler just threw up, yes, oh, nevermind, had a…teensy accident” — you don’t second guess it. As soon as your skin connects to the warm temperature, you sigh in sweet relief.
“I need to get out, I need to get out, I need to—”
“You just got here, though. Plus, the water feels nice, don’t you think?”
Startled, you sit up on your board, rocking back and forth. With what looks to be a painful tan, Lando smiles, sheepishly. “Hello…again.”
“Are…” You look around, but the ocean is practically empty. “A-are you stalking me?”
His smile drops. “W-wh—no! Of course not! I saw you from afar, and I just thought…” He grimaces. “I should go.” Except he can’t. Every chance he tries to tread away, the waves only push him back. It’s comedic. “One sec…crap. One more—shit. Okay, two, two sec—”
“Ah, forget it, stay. Land of the free, no?” Rubbing your nose, you pull his paddle closer. “What brought you out here?”
“Heard it was a good day to attempt to surf. Tell you what—it’s not.”
A giggle escapes, then lessens. You furrow your brows. “Hold on a minute; are you teaching yourself? As in, no instructor? Just you? Alone? Solo?”
“Yeah, what about it?” he grumbles. “I can do it.”
You’re wheezing at this point, stomach clenching. “That’s nearly impossible! I’m mean, sort of, sort of not.” When his eyes don’t switch from being offended to getting the joke, you quickly snap your lips shut. “Can I teach you? It’s not that hard.”
He gapes, curls grow more and more. They’re cute, the way they bounce when he shakes his head. “And if it’s so easy then why can’t I just do it myself?”
“How long have you been trying?”
He burns up. “That’s not the point.”
“No, that’s exactly my point. You need a mentor, and lucky for you, I’m a surf instructor on the weekends. Come on.”
The twenty-four year old is not sure he even wants to be here, suffering from an overdose of embarrassment. Every single attempt ends up with him splashing straight into the clear water. He groans for the millionth time, clutching into his board. “I think I’m done for the day.”
You don’t fight him on it. His bruised nose makes you feel bad, and his chipped lip makes you want to giggle, so yeah, that’s enough. He can taste the salt water as he smacks his lips, trying to get rid of it. You click your tongue. “That doesn’t really do anything. Not until you bathe and brush your teeth. Or rinse. Either or.”
He invites you to the mansion he’s rented for him and his friends, declaring that there would be endless amounts of alcohol, but when you decline, he rubs his jaw and grimaces. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood, either. Craving tacos?”
So, that’s what you two do; converse over an amazing meal. You can already note his skin shedding, but for some reason, it’s endearing. You even spot a couple of moles. Chewing rapidly to try and forget about the spice, he pants. “London, eh?”
“England,” you correct. He deadpans you.
“That’s basically the same thing. It’s along the same lines. Just like Monaco and Paris.”
You shrug. “London—yes.”
Sniffling, he reaches for his can of Coke. Gasping left and right, he winks to the best of his ability. “You’re a smart girl…I think. And you’ll get in…I think.”
“Gee, thanks, I think.”
He laughs. “I hope you get in. I really do, Laguna Resident.” You roll your eyes. “You won’t miss all of this, though?” The warmth, the people, everything. A bittersweet feeling runs through your veins, momentarily, before you wave him off.
“Nothing is holding me back, forcing me to stay. I’ll be just fine.”
Finally, he calms down, occasionally sneezing. The way he excuses himself makes him look very polished. Lando licks his lips clean, drumming his long fingers against his lap. Later you would find out this would be his nervous tick. A teller. A good one, at most.
“Call me? When you get there, I mean—if you want to, of course. No pressure.”
And while you may not have a reason to be a part of SoCal anymore, something else seemed to tug you to the other side of the world. “Might have to take your word for it.”
“Good.”
You grin, looking down onto your lap. Later he’d know this was your way of avoiding his stare. Butterflies, for the meantime. “Good.”
-
“No, no, no! You were supposed to—forget it, nevermind. Did you at least—” The stream flatlines and Lando is left speechless, headset drooping down, inch by inch. The way his eyes furiously twitch is enough for you to peck his cheek.
“It’s late anyways. Come on, let's go to bed.”
There’s utter nonsense, and mumbo-jumbo that he spills as he reluctantly follows. If Max had done this, and if Max had done that. Pouting, you cradle his face, forcing him to look at you. “You’re telling me you wish you would still rather be playing than spend time with me?” You gently slap his face and he smiles, sheepishly. “I’m hurt.”
“No, no, you’re right. Of course I want to spend time with you.” When you peck his nose, he sighs. You can faintly smell the cheap beer, courtesy of said Max, so you let out a screech, creating a distance.
“Never mind. I don’t want to spend time with you, you reek.” His smile drops and you pinch the tip of your nose. “Reek, I tell you. Go brush your teeth!”
The McLaren driver snarls, then makes his way over to your shared bathroom. “I remember when you used to be fun. Seems like a decade ago.”
“And make sure to floss!”
-
If you’re able to remember, you could openly admit that you did make that call. Actually, text. You got cold feet and sent a text last minute. You met up at the pub just around your dorm, the one that is only busy during the weekends, so is practically empty during the week. Hence, Wednesday night.
Wow. Your tan is gone, is the first thing he says when he sees you. It’s true. Being away from the California sun has completely changed you. A bit, but it did. Giggling, you accept his hug, finding warmth. London weather. “How was the move? I want to hear all about it.”
Oh, the move was as good as it could get. The airport lost two of my luggages, but it’s fine, I didn’t really need many dresses, because yes, you were right, it’s always gloomy. I miss Benny like a baby, but we always keep in touch—I’m actually going to visit him for his birthday. Which is in January? Yes…yes! January third.
“What about you? Work?”
First of all, can’t really consider it work when it’s fucking fun. Second of all, it’s quite swell. I’ve got a new teammate, which sort of sucks, but he’s nice. The car is a bit wonky, but I’m sure that’ll change throughout the course of the year. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.
Conversations switched from having them on a steady stool in the pub, to having them in the comfort of his flat. Plus, you two were more open and honest with one another.
Benny, yeah, it’s pancreatic cancer, and no, I’m not okay.
The team is fucking shit. My arm still hurts from last week's crash, but I’ll be fine. Please, don’t you worry, love.
Lando is an absolute angel. He pays for your tickets back home, along with Benny’s treatment. He declines the help at first, but as soon as he meets your smiley boyfriend, he accepts. I’ll pay you back. Once I’m better. Lando laughs with a muppet dive. Of course—of course, Ben.
You take care of him and his injuries. Follow doctors orders. Ice at least twice a day. Don’t forget to take your pain meds. No, for the love of God, they’re not candy, sweetheart.
It’s the best and the worst. And it’s all yours.
-
He’s very much obsessed with Mila as soon as she’s born. He congratulates his brother and his sister-in-law once, and off he goes, straight to the newborn. It makes you fall in love even more, which you didn’t know was possible, but here you were.
“I say give it a year or two.”
“More like five. Come on, honey, be realistic.”
“I am! Can’t you tell he adores her?” Oliver scoffs. “He’s my brother. I would know.” His wife rolls her eyes, then moves on to snap a few pictures of Lando and Mila, then a thousand videos.
“Crap. I want one,” he mentions on the drive back home. He gently rubs his thumb over your leg; you shudder. “You saw me, you were a witness, I was a good enough babysitter!”
“Babysitter? You’d be a dad, not a babysitter,” you retort, though your wobbly grin is a dead giveaway. A long finger pokes at your ribs as you laugh, scooting as far enough away as the McLaren allows you to get. “One day. Just not now.”
And he knows that’s true. He’s busy with racing, you’re busy with school; it's irresponsible. Your confirmation was sweet though—it was enough. The Brit hums, continuing the drive with a bright smile.
“One day, then.”
-
Baby talk was a fun thing to dream about. To think, daydream. Marriage talk? Now that’s serious.
It started on a Sunday morning; a non-race week. He’s finally back home and you're ecstatic. He was too, but that slowly goes out the window when you rush him to the room. I like where this is going, he starts when you drag him along. You bite back a smile, waiting for his noise. “What the shit?” he yelps, pulling on his curls. Spinning to face you, your boyfriend groans. “Where’s all my gaming—sweetheart,” he softened his voice, softened his eyes. “Sweetheart…”
“It’s gone! Bye-bye, adios!” You twirl around the empty room. “You don’t need it, Lando. It was rotting your brain.”
The color from his vibrant face fades, leaving him to let out a delirious laugh. “No, no, it wasn’t. Wh-why would you do that?” He doubles over. “I’m going to be sick.”
After a while of letting him drown in a puddle of self-pity, you snicker. Blue eyes look up at you; furrowed thick brows. What? “They’re in the guest room. I just needed us to paint the walls.” Releasing a scream, Lando plunges for you, picking you up and spinning you around until you flop against his arms.
“Asshole!” you yell, smacking his arm. After a series of instructions, you both fall into a pattern. He focuses on the left side of the room and you focus on the left and the right. It just makes sense.
“Stick to your side,” he mumbles, pushing you away. You burn a laser to the back of his head. “I can feel you killing me—stop it.”
“Then quit drawing, you’re ruining it!” There’s a cat, a dog, a house, his racing car, you—you presume— and Mila for good measure, but he serves her no justice as she appears to be more of a blob. Going over it with a thick layer of paint, he curses to himself. As soon as he picks up the thin brush once again, you immediately set your foot down. “No, Lando, think before you commit.”
But he must not hear you—or ignores you—because suddenly he’s drawing something unrecognizable. You almost laugh when you guess it must be a donut, but when he draws the familiar rock, you come to a halt. “Stellar, no?”
“Hardly. Looks like more of a neck guard—next!”
But he pushes you away as soon as you reach over to cover it up. “I’m being serious. I’m mean, not now, but someday. Are you…” His voice drops, slowly, and he drums his fingers onto his thigh. Your lips turn upward. “...open to it? Getting married?”
“Well,” you start and his breath hitches, nervously tapping, awaiting for your response. Pressing your lips against his, you breathe out, and he groans. “I love you, Lando. I’m more than open to it.”
He sighs in relief, kissing you harder this time, with more emotion. “Good.” A beat. “Thank you.”
-
Slowly, but surely, you’re celebrating your three year anniversary—in Japan, a race week—but still. Yuki specifically gives you two a list of places to visit, so it makes everything a thousand percent easier. Fifth, he grunts, throwing his helmet onto the tiny bed in his motorhome. Screw it, I’m blowing my brains out.
“Hey now, quit talking like that.” A kiss. “I don’t care if you’re upset, I happen to be super duper proud.”
“It’s Super Trouper,” Oscar yells from the other side of the wall. “Don’t disrespect ABBA like that.
“Yeah,” Lando hums, pulling you in. “Don’t.”
“I’ll pull the trigger,” you warn.
He gasps, theatrically. “You wouldn’t dare…”
“Try me.”
“I already have—sweet.” His dirty implications makes you heat up and the Australian groans as he turns up his music. Lando snickers, changing quickly. “Happy Anniversary. It’s not everyday, you know?”
“I know,” you cheer, playing with your promise ring. You beam up at the bubbly Brit. “I just wish we were home. Celebrating in the comfort of our own place.”
He doesn’t mention it, but you considering London your home—despite not growing up there—makes him crush on you harder than ever before; it's sickening. Clapping loudly, he stands up, reaching for your hand. “Then let's go back home. What’s keeping us here?”
“Yuki,” you grunt, taking his open hand. “We’d be breaking his heart, Lan. We need to do these twenty-one things.”
“Ah, he’ll understand.” A pause. “If he doesn’t then we’ll just buy his next meal to make up for it.”
Cackling, you peck his face, over and over until he pushes you away in a jokeful manner. “This is why I love you, Lando Norris!”
And he’s content, admiring the way you pack happily. He’s never seen someone so giddy to spend fourteen hours on a plane just to curl into the comfort of their bed. He’s just never seen or met anyone like you.
It was perfect.
-
As soon as he picks up his own digital camera, he’s in love. Part of you would be jealous, definitely, if it weren’t for him stopping to take a thousand pictures of you. One in the McLaren garage, next to his car. One where you balance yourself on a swing, eventually falling straight onto your face. One of your newly bruised nose, due to the fall. One where you’re sleeping, drooling like a—
“Delete that, I don’t even want to see it!”
Shaking his head full of curls, he runs away. “No! I happen to love it!”
“Lando!”
“You look adorable.”
“Fuck you, I’m leaving. Spend the night alone, loser.”
You don’t end up keeping your word. You get your revenge, eventually, when you pie him in his sleep. He nearly chokes, but it’s all in good fun, according to you.
But neither of you would have it any other way. You just happen to be his muse.
-
His greediness starts to show overnight, nearly. It catches you off guard, leaving you like a lost dog. The worst part is that it’s not directed directly at you, per se, but it felt like it. Most of the time, you’d deal with this by talking to him until he calms down, by making him a cup chamomile tea, because—
“It doesn’t help!” He paces the small room, throwing his gloves harshly against the wall.
“Studies prove—”
“Studies my ass.” An angry huff. “I just need to be alone. For a while.”
And it also catches you off guard how you don’t fight him back on it. Instead, you’re glad, fleeing out the door, straight to God knows where. Strolling, you twist and turn the thin band.
Where are you going?
“You said you wanted to be…” Except it’s not Lando. George quirks a dark brow. You gulp, forcing a smile. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…” A painful pause. “I thought you were Lando.”
“Must be the accent.” He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Carmen actually made me chase you down. Said she wants your opinion with something about the wedding. You know her—perfectionist.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Throwing your hair over your shoulder, you beam brighter this time, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I have plenty of time.”
He’s rude when he finds you. Well, not really, but even your friends notice it. I’m telling him to wear a simple black and white suit. A bow or a tie, he can decide, but he’s insisting on wearing white and I’m like hello? You giggle, orbs moving to find George with a playful glare.
“Why can you be the only one wearing white? It’s this some kind of rule or?”
“No, but it’s weird!” Carmen turns to face you, desperate eyes begging for backup. “Come on! Tell him it’s weird.”
Plump lips flicker upward. “I don’t know, George, it is a b—”
“Awful. You’re going to steal all the attention away from Caren and you’re going to look horrible. Just go with a traditional suit.”
The Mercedes driver doesn’t pay any attention to what was just said to him, but you and Carmen do, and that’s probably worse. You can tell she’s bothered by your boyfriend's unwanted opinion and for him going after her fiancé, so you briskly stand up. “Sweetheart, are you, um…ready to go?”
The Brit nods, fixing his bag that lays over his shoulder. “That’s why I’m here, no? Could have let me know you were leaving, too.” There’s tension in his voice; annoyance. “Also, I forgot your bag. I’ll wait for you here.”
His implication makes you queasy. You blink hastily. “Of course.” Turning to the older couple, you smile politely. “Um…text me, yeah? Let me know what you two decide on.”
Once you rush off, Carmen narrows her usually kind eyes, hard. George is quick, placing a steady hand onto her lap, and clears his throat. “You know, just because you didn’t place a podium for once doesn’t mean you get to act like a jerk. Seriously.”
Lando chooses to ignore his comment, bidding goodbye, and strolls over to find you, flustered. “Now I’m ready,” you confirm with a weak smile. The Brit laces his fingers through yours and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss.
“You know I love you, right?”
“I do. I do know.”
-
He’s trying to be more gentle, you can tell. With his words, with his actions. It reminds you why you chose him. He had apologized after a quiet night, settling with what he had done. How he had treated you and his friends. George is quick to accept his apology, and you were too.
“I didn’t mean it,” he groans quietly, chest pressed against yours as you ride him. “I s-shouldn’t have—fuck.” The way you clench around him tightly makes his head spin. A whine escapes your swollen lips as you nod, fast, then slow, then staggered. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you pant, finally opening your eyes to find him already looking up at you. He squeezes your hips harder, keeping you firm. “You were upset, that’s all. I get it.”
She gets it, he remembers thinking, considering himself lucky for having a girlfriend who understands. His highs. His lows. His wins. He loses. This—this is why you were the one.
But once again, his lack of display is what reluctantly pushes you away.
Then back in.
-
It’s been three months of him not even picking up his camera. Maybe he’s just too lazy to develop his pictures, so you do it for him. There’s really no excuse. That’s what you say with light humor when you push it towards his chest, but he only cocks his head to the side. “I never asked for you to do that.”
Your stomach churns. You lick your chapped lips. “You don’t need to. I just…did it. Thought it might help get you out of your slump.”
This pushes something in him as he narrows his brows like a set of sharp knives. “Slump?” A scoff. “What? Because I haven’t been able to get a win?”
“What?” You’re dazed. “No.” You’re confused. “No, why would you say that?”
“I don’t know—why would you?”
“I mean it because you’ve been down, that’s it. Not because…” When his eyes don’t change, and your heart continues to pound, you flip him a smile. “You’re right. My choice of words weren’t the best. I’m sorry.”
The blue eyed boy clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth once, then sets the camera to his side. “Whatever, it’s fine, I guess.” And suddenly he’s making his way to his gaming room, leaving you with wide eyes and a bruised heart.
“Wait!” Carefully, you pick up the small camera, extending it out towards him. “Wh-what do you want me to do? Should I pack it into your suitcase? Or maybe I could—”
“Pack it, yes, but into a box and put it in the attic.” He continues his march. “I lost interest a long time ago, either way.”
You’re not dazed. You’re not confused.
You’re broken hearted.
-
You would think that you would have learned by now. He loves you, damn it. He’s just having a tough time proving it, but it’s fine, stuff like this happens all the time.
“Hello, darling,” Carmen greets, pulling you away from your trance. The camera pans over to Lance, Carlos, and Lando. She gingerly takes the spot next to you. “Feeling alright? Lost a bit of weight and color.” Her concern can’t be hidden behind even the tallest mountain.
Been working out. London is gloomy all day long. Haven’t gotten proper Vitamin D. Looking down onto your lap, you twirl your fingers. Over and under, over and under, over and un—
Her hands feel warm against yours and you can’t help but flinch, instinctively needing to pull away, but she holds on tighter. Not even your boyfriend's hands have felt as warm as hers; not in a very long time. “You can talk to me. Anytime.” Eyes remain downward, watering, so, like most nights before bed, you blink them away. Hard, fast, and cruel.
“Have you chosen the song you want to be for your guys’ first dance?”
She remains still for a second, focuses directly into your soul and you blink faster before she has a chance to decode you. She always did. “We have. My Funny Valentine. Hear this, Daniel wants to sing it. With a band and the whole thing. Nightmare.”
And you’re glad for having her stories to distract you from your feelings, because silly is what they are. Childish. False. It’s only until the end of the race where you two realize you hadn’t been paying attention. As soon as George walks in through those doors, he jumps up and down. “Hey. Top five!”
“That’s my boy!”
You feel like a creep watching them kiss with sweet emotion you can’t help but miss and crave. Your eyes flicker over to the flat screen T.V. and you’re shooting up from your seat. “Shit! I have to go!”
He’s in the middle of a speech of some sort when you rush in gasping for air. Sheepishly, you wave, then scoot closer to Zak who gives you a quick side hug. Everyone claps and then he’s making his way to—
Not you.
First it’s Zak, then he squeezes by. Then it’s his entire team. Then it’s Oscar. Then it’s Carlos, which is the last straw because he’s not even supposed to be here. “Mind if I squeeze in?” you squeak. The Spaniard shakes his head.
“Be my guest. I should leave anyway.”
“Are you sure?” Lando quips. “Why don’t you stay?”
Brown pity eyes dance over to where you look down, then settle with a wobbly smile. “I, um…I actually have a few emails to respond to. Stay, Carlos.” It’s pathetic and embarrassing how he’s the only one who convinces you to stick around. Not even your own boyfriend. Though his hand remains by your side, it feels all for show, which it is because as soon as a few fans take a couple of pictures of you two, he finally retreats his arm.
Once the Ferrari driver finally jogs away, Lando turns to face you. “Where were you?”
“I was watching the race.” Your heart beats faster.
“Liar. Your lips just did the thing.”
A halt. “What thing?”
“There! There it is again! You didn’t watch it, did you?”
Taking his palms into your own, you kiss them, feverishly. “I was, but then Carmen came over, and we started to talk, and then one thing led to another and…” Blue eyes stare down, empty. You grimace. “I’m so sorry, Lando. You got second place and I wasn’t there to celebrate. I’m so sorry.”
And perhaps he feels he already made you suffer enough with his ignorance, or maybe he was still high off his accomplishment, but it surprises you when he leans down to peck your forehead. “Just don’t let it happen again, yeah?”
You let out a breath of relief. “Pinky swear.”
He laughs, ruffling your hair. “Ah, see, I don’t believe in pinky promises.”
“Take my word for it then.”
He winks. “Good enough.”
-
I can’t believe we haven’t had a sunny day in weeks! Flipping over to face him, you pout. Weeks! That’s bonkers.
The Brit hums against his blankets, against you. It’s officially been a year since you two have been dating and it honestly felt surreal. Especially in moments like these. The kind where he was just yours.
I tried to warn you.
You groan, pressing your cheek against his firm chest. His heartbeat is slow and steady, indicating he’s half asleep, indicating you were too awake. Indicating you should probably go to sleep, too.
Guess I’ll just have to learn to live with it.
Guess so.
You know…I sort of love it.
You say so because you haven’t lived here your whole life.
I could easily, you want to confess. If it’s with you, then yes, I can. But it’s too soon and you don’t want to scare him off. Not when things were a dream. Cloudy, sunny, rainy, sunshine—I don’t care. I have a good enough reason to stay.
He vibrates due to his chuckle and you giggle due to his chuckle. Look at you being all cute.
Not trying to be cute, just speaking my truth.
In one motion, he flips over you, hovering. You love it? Like truly?
I love it. I truly love it.
Make me believe it.
Are my words not enough?
He grins, eyes crinkling. I’m more of a pinky promise type of guy.
You lift your small finger and he’s fast to wrap his own around it. Pinky swear. I love you and London.
And it was true. It was true for a while.
-
It all came crashing down on you, really. It was alarming, yet you had expected it. It was lonely, but survivable. It came in phases. You first noticed the doubt a bit after your third year anniversary, but no, he loves me. I know he does.
But you were good at pushing it all away; far, far, and further. Until you couldn't think about it anymore, even if you tried. His acts were a suck punch, though. Everytime you started to heal and stand up, he only sent a new one. A stronger one. But, hey, no—he loves me. He only says it every night.
Like last Monday night. When he fucked you in his hotel room.
Or last Thursday. When he went down on you under the table.
Or Friday. When you sucked his cock in the shower.
All right before bed.
God, I fucking love you so much. Hot cum shoots down your throat and he groans like a madman. Love you so, so much. You can’t even begin to imagine.
So, when your friends ask and check up on you, that's what you say. Yes, he reminds me everyday. He means it. Don’t worry, we’re doing better than ever.
The second comes in like a slap to the face. He had just done what you consider a low blow, but no—he’ll make up for it. He always does.
“Bullshit.” You blink your hot tears away. Carmen never—ever—curses. She’s too classy for any of that, so it’s almost funny to hear it now. But it’s not, not really. She sighs, rubbing her temples. You and your problems were stressing her out, God, how could you be so selfish?
“Forget I said anything. I’m being a fucking crybaby—”
“No. You’re not.” It seems like she’s choosing her choice of words, delicately. “You have every right to be upset. Every. Single. Right.”
And for the first time in a while, you feel completely seen. Heard. Understood. And that was a lot, but it must have been what you needed, because suddenly, you were spilling the ugly truth. The reason why you didn’t attend the last race. Or the one before that one.
The reason why she and George found you clutching onto your chest that night in Vegas. Forgot my keys, you giggled. You two have fun! Don’t worry about me.
Carmen is older, wiser, and so fucking mature. You love it. But you hate it because now that you sit here with more of an open mind and less defense, you blink like a lost kid at the grocery store. “You love him.”
A whimper. “I adore him.”
“A lot?”
“Infinitely.”
“But?”
Another whimper, louder this time, more wet. “He makes me sad sometimes. Is that normal?”
“It is—” And it’s the delusion that always makes you stay. You’re quick to swallow it down, eager and fast. It’s all you need to hear. Carmen shakes her head. “But not to this extent. You get sad over them forgetting your favorite drink order, or when they forget to pack your heels.” An unwanted pause. The kind that gives you the room to overthink. “Not because they locked you out. Or because they forgot your anniversary.”
And she won’t admit—not when you were already so broken—but Lando hadn’t forgotten.
She likes wine, fuck, she’s obsessed with that sparkly shit. Wine testing! We could go wine tasting and I could do it there. He twidles with the ring box. Is that good?
George raises a playful brow before releasing a laugh. It sounds great. As long as you have a nice place to take Instagram pictures, then you’re set to go. Chicks love that. Isn’t that right, love?
But she pinches her lips, forcing a smile to the younger Brit. Lando lets out a shaky breath. It’s about to be our four year anniversary—it’ll be perfect. I’ll make sure.
So, yes, she knows he loves you. But that still doesn’t make the way he treats you right. What kind of love was that? Sobbing loudly, you push your hair back. “But you don’t get it! When he’s good…” Her eyes soften and yours grows more glassy. “...he’s so good.”
“Is it worth the pain, though?”
-
The third one is the breaking point you had been avoiding for so long. The day started out gray, either way, and not just because of the dark London weather. Dragging your feet to the end of the bed, you tremble. You got the call at four a.m. and those are never good, so why were you shocked to hear from Benny’s son?
“Oh, baby…” He pulls you atop his lap, kissing your temple. “I know how much he meant to you.”
“I still owe him a surfboard. The expensive kind, too.” He quirks a confused brow, but you continue staring off into space. “They stole the last one. The one he always lent to me. His mom had gifted it to him.”
“When did this happen?” he questions, trying to keep you talking because that sounds like a good idea. To get your mind off things.
You hum. “Last January; his birthday weekend.”
“Birthday weekend? I don’t recall—”
“You weren’t there.” He doesn’t have to remember to know that’s true. It's become a habit of his nowadays and now he’s feeling guilty. Another hum, this time sadder than the prior. “He was going to teach you how to grill steak, just the way I like it.”
His stomach churns. “And how do you like it?”
A beat. “I don’t remember. Ask Benny.” Then you’re crying like a newborn.Worse, actually. But he holds you through it all. So maybe this was do-able. He was nice, after all. You could stick with him forever and you’d be grateful. After what seems like a decade, you finally calm down, though your nose keeps runny. “The funeral is later this week. Are we going?” You were, with no fucking doubt, but you just wanted him to say it. There— on the tip of his tongue. You can spot it and he could taste it.
“Sweetheart…you know I have a race.” You didn’t expect him to drop everything and venture off with you, but this cut deep. Still, you understood. Plus, the proposal was ditched the moment you got the eerie call. So, yes, everything was unbalanced, but it wasn’t your guys’ fault. It was just a twist of fate. Nothing you couldn’t handle; you’ve dealt with worse.
“Right. I can go by myself.” He feels bad—you know he does—but anything, really? “You can write a letter, maybe? Just a couple of words for his family. I know it’ll mean a lot.”
He chuckles. And you should have known at that very moment because it wasn’t one you’ve heard before. “Why would I? I barely even knew the guy.”
“Excuse me?”
The Brit continues tracing shapes onto your thigh. “I’m just saying! It sounds a bit weird coming from someone who spoke to him once. Twice at best.”
And you’re no longer dazed, no longer confused, no longer heartbroken.
You’re just angry.
Pushing yourself off him, you glare coldly. “Barely even knew…the guy? We Skyped with him over dinner! You paid his bills! You fucking attended his sons wedding! How could you be so…fucked.”
“Sure… He was a sweet lad, but do you really think they want to hear from me?”
“Maybe not, maybe they don’t give a flying fuck, but I do. Remind me why I loved you!”
He’s up now. His heart quickens, pierces through his skin. “Loved?”
You sigh, clutching your chest. “Love. I said love.”
A huff. “No, you definitely spoke in past tense—do you not love me anymore?”
“Lando…”
“No. Just be upfront with me, I can handle it. Tell me now so I don’t waste my time any longer.”
Every uncertainty you ever had, every word of advice Carmen has given you comes crashing down. She was right. He’s keeping you around for good fun. For his benefit. “Your time? What about mine? You’re the one who’s been blocking me out these past couple months!”
“That’s not true—”
“Fuck, you’re right—this past year. God Lando! Haven’t you noticed how good I am at apologizing now? My zombie appearance? You left me out in the hallway! All because of what? Because I didn’t tell you I was going out with the girls?” A sour laugh. “Wake up—it’s 2024. Since when are you a shitty masochist?”
His jaw clenched. “I was worried about you! It was fucking Vegas, what was I supposed to do? And for the love of God, this again. I. Didn’t. Hear. You. Knock.”
A peach seed forms onto your chin. Skin is flushed and tears stream down your face. But he’s fine. He’s tall and firm Hard headed. Without an ounce of regret. And you want to do it. You want to make him feel what you’ve felt.
“I got my degree…”
“Woo-fucking-hoo, we’re not talking about that right now.”
“I lived a few good years, filled with pure happiness.”
He pauses.
“But I see it now. Past all the gray clouds, I see it.” He can feel it coming and he’s desperate for you not to say it aloud, but you shrug it, face downward. “Nothing is holding me back to stay.”
His tone washes away like the Laguna waves as he gets closer to you, cradling your face. “Yes. Yes you do. You have me…”
“Lando, quit lying—I haven’t for a while now. I was just a trophy you didn’t want. One you got bored of.”
“That’s not—”
“True?” A beat. “It is. And you know what also is? I don’t love you anymore.” The light in his eyes gave out, pitch black. He feels as if he’s going into cardiac arrest and you…you look at ease. Peaceful. Free. With a soft smile, you push his hands down. “I don’t think you love me anymore, either.”
“Don’t say that,” he pleads. “Please, don’t say that. Of course I love you.” Rushing over to his nightstand, he pulls out a box you only ever dreamt of. “You want proof—here! Take it! It’s yours anyways.”
“Where was this a year ago?” Opening the velvet box, you’re left with an inaudible gasp because of course it was gorgeous. And he feels a gist of hope when you place it onto your ring finger, but he slowly pales when it doesn’t fit.
“No. No. That’s your size. I know it is.” He takes it from you, analyzing it in an accusing manner. “I swear it was, I pinky…” The heater kicks on. “I swear.”
“It’s alright. This is the right ring…just not for me.”
It shouldn’t affect you to see his cheeks grow splotchy, to hear his voice tremble like a kid who just skinned his knee against the pavement. But he was once your other half, so it does.
“I don’t want you to go…”
“I don’t either. I loved being here.”
“Then stay.”
You purse your lips, then scrunch your nose. “It doesn’t love me, though. And I can’t go unwanted.”
If we start saving enough money then we could buy the house—you know—the one close enough to drive to your parents? Sweet, no?
Won’t they hear us fuck?
Ew, gross. No. I’d tape your mouth before I let that happen. You pinch his ear. This is your home.
And SoCal is yours, so why don’t we move there?
Because I don’t want to. I want to be with you and the people you love, in the place you love. Because I love you and I love the people you love, and I love London.
You’re quite literally perfect. I hope you know.
You make it clear everyday.
And I won’t ever stop. Because you deserve to know.
“This place is cold, the way you said it was. This place is gloomy, the way you said it was. But this place isn’t a home to me anymore…the way I once thought it was.”
Should he have been more careful—more caring—then he wouldn’t be here. This wouldn’t be happening, but it is. And it’s no one’s fault but his.
Sniffing, you rub your swollen eyes. “I’m going to pack my things and go to Benny’s funeral.” It's a declaration. He nods, attentively. “And I’m not coming back. Is that okay?”
No. It wasn’t okay. You’re tearing him in half, you’re stabbing his heart over and over again. You’re telling the truth and putting yourself first. Something he was awful at doing. What brought you two to this very moment in time.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I treated you the way I did.” I love you. “But if that’s your decision, then go on. Do what you need to do.” I love you.
“Good.” I love you. But I can’t say it aloud if not I’d stay forever.
You smile and he smiles back.
“Good.”
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have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble
hii!! first off i wanna say congrats on 5k you deserve it so much!! can i do remus lupin and fake dating please and ty!
Thanks so much lovely!
cw: alcohol
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 969 words
“Your favorite color is green,” you say, passing Remus a glass of champagne.
His brow twitches as he takes it from you, holding it by the stem like an adult. You adjust your grip on yours accordingly. “What?”
“Your friend Sirius cornered me by the bar. I panicked.”
“Ah.” Remus tucks a tongue into his cheek, just shy of the corner of his mouth, and takes a sip. “I’ve always told him I didn’t have a favorite.”
You chew your lip, nodding. “Okay. That’s okay, we can just say you told me because you’re, like, so into me.”
He chuckles. “So into you I divulged to you the deep, dark secret of my favorite color?”
“Mhm. Think he’ll buy it?”
“He might, actually.” He takes another sip of his champagne, and you remember to have a bit of yours. You could probably use it. Remus looks perfectly composed, and surprisingly dapper in his suit, done up to the top button with the collar just barely brushing a thin, pale scar circling a third of his neck. Contrastly, you’re a jumble of nerves. “Sirius likes to think I’m holding out on them, it might fit into his narrative that I’d kept it a secret all these years.”
“And if he does figure it out, we could probably just tell him, right?” you ask, and somehow your champagne is half gone. Damned duplicitous, narrow glasses.
Remus’ smile softens as it bubbles down your throat, and you know he can read what you’re thinking on your face. You’re a shit actress, an even worse liar. You’re going to ruin this for him.
“We could,” he says, “but he’ll only tell James.”
“Really?” You look at the man still standing by the bar, now chatting with a blonde you don’t know but suspect in a few minutes will have to pretend you’ve heard Remus talk about a million times. Sirius has managed to wear a leather jacket to a wedding, thrown on right after the reception in what Remus has informed you is typical fashion for him. He grins with one half of his mouth as he talks, flashing canines when he really means it. “He doesn’t strike me as a narc.”
Remus steps closer to you as someone moves past him, lowering his voice. You can smell his cologne, woody and vaguely sweet. “He’s not. He and James tell each other everything, though.”
“Oh. That’s sweet, actually.”
James is the one you’re really here for. It’s his wedding, and months ago when he and his fiancee sent out invitations he’d asked if Sirius or Remus would need a plus-one. Sirius said yes immediately, and by some manner you can’t say you understand but Remus assures you is very typical of them, this evidently devolved into a bet on whether Remus could actually find a date that met his standards and that he was willing to ask to come to the wedding with him.
As it turns out, Remus is more competitive than you would have guessed.
According to James and Sirius, no one is ever good enough for him. You’re here to disprove that, though you don’t love that your work crush asked you out because he couldn’t find anyone he wanted to actually date. Still, Remus is your friend, and you were never going to say no to helping him. If you’d known you’d get to see him in this suit, you probably would have said yes even faster.
“Do you want another?” Remus asks, and you look down to find your champagne glass is empty.
“Oh my gosh, sorry.” You set the glass down on a nearby table, embarrassment a tickle over your skin. “Yeah, probably best not.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He tilts his head at you, smiling in that gentle, kind way of his. “You’re here not on a job, love, you should have a good time.”
“I feel like I am, a little bit.” Your laugh bubbles out of you easily, fizzy like the champagne. “I want to at least act like someone your friends believe you could be interested in.”
“Just be yourself,” Remus reassures you. “They’ll believe it.”
Something in your gut flitters at what that could mean. You don’t let yourself think on it. “What if I wanted to dance?”
He smiles. “Then you should do that.”
“But would you dance with me?”
“I would hold your things for you.” His grin takes on a sheepish quality. “Find a chair to watch with all the other lame boyfriends.”
You tsk. “You’re not lame, Remus.” He looks like he wants to contradict you, but he kisses his teeth instead. “I think I’d rather stay with you, if that’s alright. We can go sit in chairs amongst the lame boyfriends if you like.”
Remus considers you for a moment. The sky has turned a deep blue around you, the string lights hung up around the space casting a warm glow that filters through his hair and makes it appear more golden than brown. “I would go dance with you if you wanted me to,” he admits.
You blink. “Really?”
“Well, maybe not dance so much as hold both our drinks and stand near you while you danced, but I want to stay with you, too.” Remus glances away from your eyes for a moment, a shyness you haven’t seen since you first met in his expression. “If you want to dance, I’ll go with you.”
You take his hand on impulse, the scars and calluses of his skin alternately rough and smooth between your palms. “I don’t want to make you,” you tell him earnestly, “but I really do want to dance.”
Remus looks to the side, his smile almost begrudging. “You’re not making me,” he says.
You end up getting another glass of champagne after all.
#mae's 5k#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin friends to lovers#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#marauders era#hp marauders#tw alcohol
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My notes from the 92NY Q&A
Someone from Mayfair Witches is in IWTV S2 and Mayfair S2
Ben Daniels sent a thank-you letter to Rollin Jones re: working with such a beautiful cast and lovely project (and called himself Santi-baby in it). Jacob did his best Ben impression and read the email aloud to us.
The two actors Rolin KNEW they wanted from the beginning were Eric and Ben Daniels, before they even started casting
Jacob refused to pit Loumand and Loustat against each other. Said they have different vibes
Sam insists that we won't see "the real Lestat" until S3. We're only seeing everyone else's perception of him (very tongue-in-cheek). In response, Assad said, "Armand has a very good memory. Maybe the most accurate!"
Jacob said filming the Dreamstat scenes with Sam was like slipping on a glove, or an old sock (cue slightly inappropriate giggles from audience)
Delainey said her chemistry read with Jacob felt like everyone else in the room just faded away, and she bonded with him first on set
Lestat plays Harlequin instead of Lelio this season, and the moderator was so affected by Sam's performance that he said "I got pregnant after watching it." Rollin said it was "moves like Jagger" on that theater stage lol. Sam had trouble reconciling this part but he did have fun
Any time Jacob gets complimented, he tries to brush it off. He's so humble!
Delainey said Claudia knows Louis better than he knows himself, and Jacob* thinks he knows her but he doesn't
Eric said that Daniel's impression of Dubai situation is he's just sick of the lies and games from Loumand. He won't be intimidated, and if you push, he pushes back harder. He will not be bullied (much like himself, he added)
Lots of hype for ep5 of this season. Eric said it was the most traumatizing episode he's seen in his life. Everyone else agrees that it gets pretty heavy re: young Daniel's interview
Eric said "working with Jacob is like flying" and Jacob said "the feeling is entirely mutual" - so sweet!
Assad was so preciously nervous bc he admittedly still gets intimidated by the cast. He was struggling to finish his thoughts. He did praise how open and loving the whole cast and crew are. It was cute.
"When Louis meets Armand, Armand is kind of lost but putting on this facade of power that Louis sees through" (Assad's words)
Question: any fun moments off set that still make you laugh? Response: Sam and Jacob look at each other and just burst into laughter. They really struggled to find an answer that they felt was appropriate to share and barely answered it 😅
Q: What series would your character binge?
Everyone answered as their character:
Armand: Buffy
Daniel: Breaking Bad
Claudia: The OA
Lestat: The Real Housewives
Louis: The Real Housewives ("YOU LITERALLY TOOK MY ANSWER" to Sam)
This doesn't even cover the encounters I saw at the stage door. I'll do a separate post for that, maybe
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#amc iwtv#vampterview#I'M ON CLOUD NINE#just looking at my selfie with Jacob and giggling#iwtv spoilers#totally forgot to add that tag last night..... or to put this all under a read more i was just too excited to share!!
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Sorry I accidentally sent the ask before I finished😭 anyway I was saying Remus with a hyper-independent reader who’s very hesitant to let him help with anything because she’s not used to people offering to help her.
That's okay angel! I hope you enjoy <3
"No thank you, Rem." you say kindly, working around your boyfriend as you tidy up your apartment. You'd gotten a little sucked into work and then unpacking your groceries, and now your apartment is a little less tidy than you'd like.
"Dove," he doesn't take your rejection badly, but Remus would rather die than watch you do everything yourself. He's a tad dramatic sometimes, 'specially when it comes to you. "I can help you get everything done."
You feel your chest close up like a fist at his offer. It's not that you wouldn't love the help, it's just that you don't know how to accept it without feeling like something will go wrong.
You have this gnawing fear that the moment you let other people help or participate in things like this, you'll no longer be useful or things will crumble or they'll be done wrong- all the negative possibilities swim around in circles in your mind, your heart speeds up a little because of it. Plus, it's just tidying up, it's not rocket science.
"I know how you like everything put away, dove," Remus' hand rests on your shoulder now, effectively stopping you from moving for a bit. "Let me help? I can do this, and you can go take that bath you wanted to."
He can be wicked, your boyfriend, using his gentlest voice, and rubbing the curve of your shoulder with his thumb. He's a master at soothing you. At times you think he was made to do it.
You sigh, thinking about it for a good long moment before shaking your head. "I can do it myself."
Remus doesn't let you shake yourself from his hold, in fact, his hands trail to your wrist and tug you gently behind him as he makes for your steps.
He wants to guide you all the way to the bathroom, but that won't be too well received. So for now he's fine with staying in the tidiest part of the house.
"Remus, I have so much to do," you start but he just shakes his head.
"I know you do, and I know you can do it all by yourself," he turns to face you now, eyes soft and a kind of honey colour that makes him look so soft and comfortable that you have to actively stop yourself from leaning into him. "But I'm trying to tell you that it doesn't have to be just you doing it all alone. You can lean on me for a little bit."
Your eyes flit about his face, trying to syphon out any hint of the fact that he may not entirely mean what he's offering. When you find none, you nibble on your bottom lip, eyes still boring into his.
Remus stands up under the 'scrutiny,' letting you look him over as long as you like before he gives your fingers a squeeze. You know exactly what he means by it too.
"Okay, but if we do it, you can't be upset when I start being a bitch."
He only tuts, shaking his head. "You're not a bitch, you're particular." Remus kisses your cheek, smiling when he finds it a little hot under his lips. "And you don't need to show me, but if it'll help you feel better, start your teaching, baby dove."
#remuslupin#remus lupin#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin fic#remus lupin x black reader#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x yn#remus lupin x y/n
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Will It Patch Your Broken Wings?
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel is feeling insecure one night and cheats on Reader. She is absolutely devastated and wants nothing to do with him, but he is determined to show her how much he loves her.
Inspired by the love triangle in Taylor Swift’s betty/august/cardigan
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst, cheating, swearing
Word Count: 6.3k
Betty, I know where it all went wrong
Your favorite song was playing
From the far side of the gym
I was nowhere to be found
I hate the crowds, you know that
Plus, I saw you dance with him
Azriel tucked his wing in tighter as you led him through Rita’s, your hand in his, a bounce in your step. You loved it here: the energy, the dancing, the music.
Azriel, on the other hand, really only went along because he loved you.
The music was pounding in Azriel’s mind, overwhelming his senses. He could normally block it out and will his body to be loose enough to attempt to dance with you, but today had been a particularly long day in which he had to… secure information from some traitors.
He didn’t let his memory go past that, not when he was with you. But it had been a day. A terrible day.
You were dancing now, like you were born to do it, like you didn’t care at all who was watching. You turned to him, a bright smile lighting up your face, and he couldn’t help but soften at the sight, feeling comforted by your effortless radiance.
He would never understand why you had chosen him. He was thankful of course, but he was willing to admit the two of you sometimes seemed like an unlikely pair. You were bright and bubbly, lighting up every room -- a direct juxtaposition to his shadows, his darkness, his tendency to be stoic and silent.
Watching him stay completely still in the middle of the crowd, your face fell, and you sidled up to him, craning your neck to look him in the eyes as you got closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Are you okay? We can go home if you want.”
Azriel smiled faintly at you, dipping his head to give you a quick kiss. “Long day. You can dance. I’m going for a drink.”
You nodded, but still eyed him warily for a moment, gaze lingering on his swirling shadows, before turning back to the dance floor.
By the time Azriel got his drink (the strongest they had), you were fully engrossed in a song that he realized was one of your favorites. He watched as you writhed on the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips, a bright smile on your face.
A male came up to you then, taking your hand and twirling you under his arm. You laughed brightly before moving away from him, dancing on your own once again.
Azriel couldn’t stop his heart from plummeting. That’s the kind of male she should be with, he thought. The kind that goes to a normal job and comes home without shadows or demons to chase away in his mind. The kind that can dance and twirl and laugh with you without a care in the world.
He watched as you danced and danced, occasionally dancing with a random male for a moment before moving on.
She deserves better than you. She always has.
His breath was coming faster and faster now, the music pounding in his ears, through his skull, all that heat from so many bodies closing in on him. He had to get out, had to stretch his wings, had to get out.
Azriel shoved through the crowd and burst through the doors, out into the cool night, stretching out his wings and breathing deeply. He cursed himself. He was normally better than this, better at maintaining his emotions, his panic. By the Cauldron, he was the Night Court’s spymaster and he couldn’t handle an evening in a nightclub with his lover.
Pathetic. That’s what he was.
“Are you okay?” a light, sing-songy voice broke through his rumbling thoughts.
He turned to see a very pretty High Fae woman. She was dressed a bit like Mor, he couldn’t help thinking, wearing a thin red dress that showed off all her assets, her light brown hair cascading down past her shoulders.
She gave him a look that he hadn’t seen, or at least paid attention to, from a stranger in a very long time.
He blinked. “Honestly? I don’t think so.”
Her lips slowly curved up into a sultry smile. “Anything I would be able to help you with?”
No. No, you cannot help me. I don't think anybody can.
She watched him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before she tilted her head for him to follow.
And Mother save him, he did.
---
And I can see us twisted in bedsheets
August sipped away like a bottle of wine
'Cause you were never mine.
Your heart had been pounding, your body trembling, ever since you realized that Azriel was nowhere to be found.
Something must have happened to him. It was the only explanation. He wouldn’t just leave you without a word.
But, what could have possibly happened to the shadowsinger, in Velaris, of all places?
Your hand shook as you raised it to pound on the door of the river house.
Rhysand was the one who answered, shirtless, hair a mess. He looked very unhappy to see you.
“I need you to find Azriel,” you nearly shouted before he could scold you.
He sobered immediately, noticing your distress. “What do you mean?”
You explained to him what had happened, that he had seemed off at Rita's, that he told you he was going to get a drink, then vanished. You had assumed that he had been lingering on the outskirts of the dance floor, and didn't notice for quite some time that he had left completely.
“I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation,” he said soothingly. “Did you check your apartment?”
You nodded. He wasn't there, at the home he shared with you. “And the townhouse.”
Rhysand's violet eyes were contemplative. Hesitating.
“Can't you just…feel for him or whatever?”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I can.”
“Then do it!”
Rhysand's eyes went unfocused after a beat, and when they widened again in surprise, you knew he had found him.
“What is it? Is he okay?”
“He's… at a random apartment. At least it's not one that I recognize.”
Your heart lurched. “What? Why?”
Rhys shrugged, his expression darkening. “Okay. Shit. Wait here, I'll go tell Feyre what's going on and take you to him.”
Rhysand came back a moment later, now in his normal black attire, and winnowed you in front of an apartment complex not far from Rita's. You had certainly never been here before. The silence was agony as you followed Rhys up the stairs, to the door.
He glanced back at you, a question in his eyes. You shook your head and he knocked, the sound rattling around in your skull.
You heard shuffling, giggling, and then.
Then.
A woman answered the door. A beautiful woman who was wearing Azriel's shirt.
A woman who was wearing your lover’s shirt and nothing else.
Your knees nearly buckled. You tasted bile in your mouth. You were going to be sick.
She cocked her head to the side. “Yes?”
Rhysand was deathly still, his power rippling from him, darkening the doorway. You remained behind him, but you had to know. Had to know for sure.
So you peeked around Rhysand's shoulder, further into the woman's apartment.
And saw Azriel, bare chested, lying in her bed, the sheets bunched up at his waist, his wings drooping on the ground, his hand tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You barely had time to spin around before you entered your stomach in the hallway.
---
The worst thing that I ever did
was what I did to you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Az?” Rhysand's voice boomed from the door the woman had just answered.
Hearing such a familiar voice in such an unfamiliar setting was initially what shocked Azriel enough that he nearly fell out of bed.
Then it hit him.
Rhysand was here.
No no no no no no--
Azriel scrambled up out of the woman's bed, frantically searching for his pants and tugging them on.
“I-”
“Don't answer that.” Rhysand spat, and it was then that Azriel realized Rhys was holding you upright as both of you lingered in the doorway.
His heart stopped working. His mind stopped working.
He said your name, but it came out more like a croak.
You were trembling in Rhysand's arms, tears sliding down your cheeks.
What had he done what had he done what had he done--
Azriel took a step forward, but you recoiled, and he knew you would've fallen to the ground if Rhysand hadn't been holding you.
You looked… afraid of him. Not just hurt, not just disgusted, but actually afraid.
He said your name again, his voice and his heart breaking, but you turned to Rhysand and said in the smallest voice he'd ever heard, “Get me away from him.”
Rhysand shot you one last withering glance before he winnowed out of sight, taking you with him.
It was silent for a moment, until the woman said, “If I'd known you were such an asshole, I never would have done this.”
Azriel sank to his knees and wept.
---
You drew stars around my scars
But now I'm bleeding.
Back at the river house, Feyre was holding you as your body continued to shake, silent tears continued to fall, while Rhysand paced back and forth, rage radiating off of him.
“Azriel?” Feyre asked, wide eyed. “Our Azriel?”
“He's certainly not mine anymore,” you sniffed, and Feyre winced, shooting you an apologetic glance, holding you a little tighter.
“I can't believe it,” Rhys said, still pacing in the spare room where they had set you up for the night. “I cannot believe him.”
There was a knock on the door of the house and you froze. You all knew who it was.
You looked at Rhys, your eyes pleading.
“I won't let him in,” he said, his expression softening as he turned to you. “I'll ward the fucking house against him if I have to,” he growled, mostly to himself, as he retreated to send him away.
You leaned further into Feyre, grateful for your friends.
For his friends, you realized. His family.
They were on your side now, but you knew where their allegiance would ultimately lie.
In losing Azriel, you would lose your family, too.
Sobs racked your body then, and Feyre held on tight, settling her cheek on the top of your head.
You thought of all the walls Azriel had broken down around your heart, all the promises he had made about love and forever. All the broken pieces of you that you had let him see, that he had helped you heal.
But it was all a lie.
You couldn't stop seeing it -- the woman, naked except for his shirt; Azriel, naked in her bed.
You wept and wept until there was absolutely nothing left of you.
---
A friend to all is a friend to none
Chase two girls, lose the one.
Azriel had come to the river house twice a day for the past three days.
Each time, Rhysand opened the door, molten hot rage in his eyes, and told him to leave, that you weren’t ready yet. Azriel couldn’t blame him.
He knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to make it better. To make you better. He could try to explain what he had been feeling that night, but it wouldn’t matter, not really. It was all excuses, and he knew it.
Azriel had destroyed everything. And now he just had to watch as his world burned down.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, he knocked on Rhysand’s door, expecting to see his pissed off brother again, but it was Feyre who appeared.
He had never seen his High Lady look so disappointed. He hated that it was directed at him.
“How could you do it?” she said, crossing her arms, leaning against the doorway.
Azriel felt tears prickling his eyes, and willed them not to fall. “I never felt like I deserved her,” he said quietly.
“Well you definitely don’t now.”
He winced. “I know. I just -- I want to see her. How is she?”
Feyre furrowed her brow, furious. “How is she? She hasn’t left her room since she got here. Elain’s been forcing water down her throat so she doesn’t shrivel up and die, that’s how she is.”
Azriel swallowed, trying to steady his shaking hands. He felt like he was drowning. He wished he would, if it meant that it would make you stop feeling like that. “Do you think she’ll talk to me?”
She studied him, her mouth a hard, thin line. Finally, she turned, heading inside and he followed her, his knees wobbling.
When they made it to your door, she knocked softly, saying through the door, “He’s here.”
Azriel held his breath until the door opened, slowly.
And when he saw you, he couldn’t breathe. You looked… devastating. Your eyes were red and swollen, you were pale, your hair was a mess.
It was his fault. He had done this to you. He felt sick.
Your eyes were hollow when you looked at him, like you didn’t feel anything at all.
“Do you want me to stay?” Feyre asked you quietly.
You shook your head, your eyes darting away from Azriel. Feyre shot him a warning glare before she reluctantly went down the hallway.
You turned, moving to sit on the bed that looked like it hadn’t been made in days, every movement you made looking wary, exhausted. Destroyed. Your eyes were fixed on your hands in your lap, unwilling to look at him.
Azriel lingered just inside the room, feeling uncomfortable in his skin. He longed to hold you in his arms, to kiss your pain away.
He said your name, willing you to look at him. You flinched.
It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
“I am so, so sorry,” he rasped.
You shook your head, not looking up. “How could you do this, Az? How could you do this to me?” Your voice cracked when you said his name.
Tears started to fall down his own cheeks as he said, “I… don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I saw you dancing with those males, looking so carefree, and I didn’t feel like I fit into that part of your life. I’ve always felt like you deserved someone better than me, someone… easier.”
Finally, you looked up at him, and he wished you hadn’t. Your eyes were full of fury. And hurt. He had never seen you like that before. “You cheated on me because I danced with some guys for two seconds?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Azriel tried.
“You think I wanted somebody like them? Somebody easier?”
Azriel opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I thought--”
“I wanted you,” you spat, and he recoiled at the hurt in your voice, at the pain in your eyes that he had put there. “All I ever wanted was you.”
He couldn't breathe. His voice came out weaker than he had ever heard it, “I'm sorry. It was a mistake, I'm a miserable, miserable fool. I want you. You're all I want.”
You laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “How can you even say that after what you did?”
“I know, you’re right,” he sighed, raking a scarred hand through his hair, his shadows dancing around his arms. “It doesn’t make sense, what I did. It was stupid and awful, and the worst thing that I’ve ever done, and I am so so sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, reaching his hand out to take yours.
“Don’t touch me,” you spat, wrenching your hand away.
He blinked, taking a step back, his heart in his throat.
“You said you loved me,” you said, your voice now barely a whisper, as if all your energy had been completely drained. “You said you wanted to be with me forever. Did you ever mean any of it?”
“Of course I did,” he said softly. “I still do. I love you. I want you.”
You sniffed, putting your head in your hands. “Well. You should’ve thought of that before you fucked her.”
He blanched at your tone, at your language. He didn’t think you’d ever said that word before, at least not around him.
“Please,” he said, his voice breaking, as he knelt down in front of you, trying to meet your eyes. “Please, what can I do? What can I do to fix this?”
Your eyes rose to meet his. You took in the sight, the shadowsinger kneeling before you, begging for your forgiveness. “You can’t fix it,” you said, seething. “You left me. You abandoned me at Rita’s. Do you have any idea how that felt? I thought something horrible had happened to you!”
Azriel tightened his jaw. He hadn’t known, hadn’t even thought about--
“And then to see you. With her. In her bed,” you broke off, looking at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from falling, he knew.
“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. His tears were flowing down his cheeks now and he hastily wiped them away, not wanting to take his eyes off you for fear that you would vanish.
After a long moment, you leveled your gaze on him again. “Would you have told me? If I wasn’t worried sick, if I had just gone home, and waited for you to stumble on in, would you have told me? Or would you just keep acting like everything was fine, knowing that you had just betrayed me?”
Azriel swallowed hard. He thought about the guilt he had felt immediately, how he was contemplating what the hell he was going to tell you as he was staring at that ceiling before Rhysand had knocked. “I would’ve told you,” he said, his voice husky. “I was going to tell you.”
You scoffed, shaking your head, looking anywhere but him. “I don’t even know why I asked. How can I trust anything you say?”
“I don’t know. But it’s true,” he said, shifting on his knees, wishing he could reach for your hand.
Hiding your face in your hands, you said, barely audibly, “I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me and making me feel like this.”
Azriel’s heart finally shattered completely. He knew he would never be able to put the pieces back together, as long as he lived. He had done this to you, his beautiful, bubbly, happy love. Reduced to this. To hating him. And he couldn’t even blame you.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you.”
“Stop saying that,” you cried.
“It’s true. It’s all I’ve got. I won’t try to make excuses, I’m just … I’m sorry. And I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.”
You sniffled, and took your hands away from your face, looking to the ceiling once again, like you were steeling yourself to say what you were about to. “I never want to see you again,” you said, weakly. “You can have the apartment. Elain and Nesta are packing my things right now.”
Azriel shook his head, his panic rising, “No, no, you don’t have to--”
“I do,” you cut him off. “It’s done, Az. We’re done,” you rose off the bed and went to the washroom, looking unsteady on your feet. “You can go now.”
You shut yourself in behind the closed door, and it was five hundred years of will and training that carried his legs out of the river house, and out of your life forever.
Azriel took to the sky, flying and flying, the wind biting at his skin, at his eyes. He kept picturing your heartbroken expression, the words you spoke to him.
He didn't stop flying until he made it to the depths of the Illyrian mountains, where he knew he would be well and truly alone.
Spotting a flat section nestled between several mountains, he landed in the snow, barely stopping long enough to punch the mountainside. It was stupid, he knew, he was more likely to break his hand than blow off any of this steam, but he had to do something to stop this pain, this panic, this despair that he could blame on nobody but himself.
He had lost you. He had lost the love of his life forever because he couldn't overcome his fears. He had been so scared that he wasn't good enough for you that he made sure that it was true.
Grunting, he punched the mountainside over and over again until his knuckles bled, and then he punched it some more. Tears froze on his cheeks, the wind chilling him to the bone.
Az was dimly aware of someone landing behind him, so hard it shook the ground beneath his feet. He kept punching.
“You're not going to solve your problems out here,” Cassian called to him.
Finally, Azriel halted, turning around to face his brother. “You know, we have better things to punch,” Cassian added.
Azriel scowled, sinking into the snow, exhausted.
Cassian strode over to him, plopping down a few feet away, hissing at the cold now sleeping through his pants. He studied Azriel, seemingly waiting for him to speak.
“She hates me,” Azriel whispered finally. “She said she never wants to see me again.”
Cassian sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Fuck.”
Azriel could only nod sadly.
“You know she didn't mean it. At least not the second part. She loves you.”
Sniffing, wiping at his eyes, Azriel groaned. “I don't know if she does anymore.”
“She does,” Cassian said quietly. “I know she does.”
After a beat of silence, Cassian asked, “What are you going to do?”
Azriel shrugged, watching his bloody hands start to heal. “Well. I could either hang around, keep apologizing, and piss her off more, or… leave her alone…”
“And piss her off more,” Cassian added.
A dry laugh escaped Azriel. “Exactly.”
Cassian was quiet for a moment, seemingly pondering how to help him.
“I’m not giving up on her,” Azriel finally said, with more conviction than he felt. “I just… I don't want to make it worse.”
“Az, I hate to tell you this, but I don't think it could get much worse,” Cassian said, grimacing.
Azriel just sighed, stretching out his wings behind him.
---
I knew I'd curse you for the longest time
Chasing shadows in the grocery line.
Seeing Azriel again, seeing him beg on his knees for your forgiveness, seeing how hollow his eyes looked, how his shadows were so unrelenting around him, had absolutely wrecked you.
It was another few days until you had the courage to leave the river house at all.
Azriel had come back to the river house several times, but you had your friends send him away. You couldn’t bear to see him again.
Feyre and Rhysand had checked on you frequently during your stay at their house, consoling you, cursing Azriel’s name right along with you. Rhys had even loaned you what you needed to get your own apartment, on the other side of Velaris from the one that you once shared with Azriel.
That part seemed to make it final, somehow. You could almost convince yourself it had all been a dream until you made your way to your new, empty apartment, without a trace of the love that used to be yours.
That empty apartment wrecked you all over again, and as you looked around it for the first time, your body folded in half, arms wrapping around your stomach as your body racked with sobs.
You had started to regret insisting that you do this part by yourself.
It was really over. Azriel really cheated on you and it was really done.
You knew it was time to start distancing yourself from Azriel’s family. They had undoubtedly been on your side this whole time, but even Rhysand and Feyre were starting to change their tune slightly. You know he loves you still. You know he’s a good male. You know he’s so sorry.
You understood where they were coming from, really, you did.
But that didn’t make it hurt less. What you needed was to hate him. It was the only way you could ever bring yourself to move on, to start living your life again.
You had been solemnly unpacking for a few hours when there was a knock on your door. You stiffened immediately. Rhysand and Feyre had said that they wouldn’t tell Azriel where you lived, but maybe he had figured it out?
“Relax sweetheart, it’s me,” Cassian said on the other side of the door, and you did relax, if only slightly. You hadn’t seen him since before this all started.
Reluctantly you let him in. He was sauntering, wearing that easy smirk he always donned. You couldn’t decide if it was comforting or annoying.
Cassian whistled as he looked around. “Nice place.”
You settled on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes softened as he walked closer to you, then perched next to you on the couch, not quite relaxed. “I wanted to check on you.”
“You can report back to Azriel that I’m just as pissed as ever,” you grumbled.
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Cassian said quietly.
Skeptically, you turned to face him. You were sure he would be the most likely to take Azriel’s side.
After a moment, Cassian said, “If it’s any consolation, he hates himself probably about as much as you hate him right now.”
“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” you admitted.
Cassian sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Did you mean it? That you never wanted to see him again?”
You shifted, hugging your knees to your chest. “In the moment I did. Thinking about seeing him now… it breaks me apart. But, thinking about the rest of my life completely without him…”
“That breaks you apart too?” Cassian offered.
You nodded, tears stinging your eyes.
“Okay, look,” Cassian said, turning so he fully faced you. “I’m going to tell you something. You’re my friend and he’s my brother, and I love you both, so I need you to know I’m not trying to convince you of anything, I am merely giving you information. Okay?”
“O-kay…”
He took a deep breath, seemingly gathering his thoughts, before he continued. “Azriel has always felt like he was inferior. The way he was raised… he carries that around more than a lot of people think. He often thinks that he isn’t good enough for people, but especially you.”
“How do you know?” You knew that Az still dealt with a lot from his childhood, but he wouldn’t often voice those things to you. He had mentioned something about not feeling good enough when you saw him, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.
“He mentioned it to me a few times, that he didn’t feel like he was the kind of person you should be with. You’re so bright and bubbly, he felt like you deserved somebody who was the same.”
You rested your cheek on your knee, trying to digest the information. “But… he must have known I never actually felt like that, right?”
Cassian shrugged. “On a good day, maybe. But deep down I think he always had it in the back of his mind: that fear that he wasn’t right for you.”
“He should’ve told me,” you said quietly.
“I agree. And I’m not saying that it excuses what he did, but that day…it was a hard one for him. What he had to do in the Court of Nightmares.”
Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t even thought about that.
“Well, he should’ve told me that too.”
Cassian nodded. “Yes. He should have.”
You groaned. “I hate this.”
“I know,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.”
Cassian let you cry on his chest for a long moment before he said, “hH wants to come see you, you know. He doesn't want to give up on you.”
When you didn't respond, he said softly, “Just think about it.”
Days later, all that Cassian had said was still ringing in your ears, even as you walked through the market when it was the busiest.
Despite everything, it hurt your heart to think that Azriel had ever felt like he wasn't enough for you. And you were still so hurt at what he had done and what you had seen, but it at least made more sense now.
You hated this feeling of loneliness that followed you around wherever you went now, rooted so deeply in you that you were scared it would never go away.
Azriel had been so good to you for so long. Was one mistake really worth throwing everything away?
Every time you had the thought though, you remembered the sight of him in her bed and wanted to scream or cry or kick something.
Suddenly, as you were nearing the edge of the market, you swore you saw the wisp of a curling shadow out of the corner of your eye and stiffened. This hadn't been the first time that you thought you glimpsed Azriel's shadows or wings in public since it happened.
But, no this time it was real. And he saw you too.
You willed your feet to move, but they wouldn't. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, from this man who had loved and hurt you so completely.
Azriel approached you like you were an injured animal he was trying not to scare away. Your heart thundered in your chest.
“Hi,” he said in what you knew was his gentlest voice.
You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Still, after everything, you missed him. And seeing him now… it was too much to bear. Yet, too much to walk away.
“I'm sorry,” he said softly, his eyes swimming with pain and affection. His shadows were on full display, despite the fact that they usually shied away from the sun.
“You've already said that,” you murmured, still rooted to the spot.
“I know. And I'll keep saying it every chance I get. If I knew where you lived, I'd send you flowers or a book or dinner from that restaurant you love every day and I'd tell you I'm sorry and that I love you.” His voice was shaky in a way you had never heard from the shadowsinger.
“You would not,” you said, trying to sound angry but it just came out weak.
“Of course I would,” he said, risking a step closer to you. “I would do anything to take your pain away. You have to believe that.”
You did. You did believe that he meant it. But you didn't know if it would be enough.
For a moment you let yourself gaze at the man you once trusted with your whole heart. He looked thinner, like he hadn't been eating enough. His eyes were still hollow, dark bags beneath them. Even his wings drooped slightly. He might look even worse than you did.
And yet, you could still see the beautiful, sweet shadowsinger you had fallen in love with so long ago.
Finally you said quietly, “I'll tell Rhys he can give you my address.”
Those hazel eyes sparked with hope. And love. Definitely love.
---
The only thing I wanna do
Is make it up to you.
When you went out the next morning, there was a book left at your doorstep with a note attached.
It was the newest from one of your favorite authors. Your lips formed the tiniest smile.
The note read:
I couldn't start my groveling with something too cliche, so I went straight for your romance novels.
I've never told you this, but I always love when you tell me about the books you’re reading. Your entire face lights up when you do. And you know I love a fairytale ending.
I hope you have a good day today.
I'm so sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry for hurting you.
I love you so much. I always will.
-Az
You couldn't help but laugh a little by the time you got to the end. As if anybody else would be writing you this note.
The next morning when you stepped out your door, there was a pastry from your favorite cafe in a to-go bag. On the bag was a note:
I'm really hoping you'll find this in the morning so it's still good.
If not, you just come let me know and I'll drop everything to get you a fresh one.
I miss you.
My life is a nightmare without you.
I'm so sorry.
I love you.
-Az
And so it went. Every morning, rain or shine, Azriel would leave something that he knew you would love, with a note, always ending in some version of I'm sorry. I love you.
It did warm your heart that had turned so cold. The dedication alone was enough to prove to you that he really was sorry for what he did.
Yet, every time a note would make you laugh or cry so much that you wanted to run to his arms, you were always stopped by that image that plagued your mind. By the fact that he did what he did and no amount of little gifts would change it.
Months passed, and to Azriel's credit, the gifts, and more importantly the notes, kept coming. Your bedside drawer was completely full of them. And there may have been a night or two when you missed him so desperately that you would read them over and over again until your eyes burned and you had no choice but to cry yourself to sleep.
You would sometimes lay awake at night, picturing him coming up to your door. Several times you wanted to wait up for him, to listen for his footsteps, to pull him into your apartment, forget everything that happened and just be happy again.
But you never had the nerve. You were terrified of going through it all again.
Until one day, there was no gift at your door. No note. No sign of him anywhere.
Your heart plummeted. Had something happened to him? Was he hurt? Injured on some mission Rhysand sent him on?
Or had he finally given up on you?
It wasn't until that moment that you were willing to admit to yourself how much you had been relying on those notes, those little pieces of him.
You went through your day in a daze, devastated all over again.
It was early in the evening when there was a knock on your door. For a moment, you hoped it would be Azriel. You hadn't actually seen him for months. But you quickly realized it was more likely to be one of your friends, who still came by, despite what you had initially thought.
So, the breath was knocked completely out of you when it was indeed the shadowsinger waiting on the other side of the door.
His handsome face, his soft expression, on his face made you want to weep. You missed him so much.
Azriel smiled somewhat shyly as he gazed down at you, holding a paper bag in his hand. “I'm sorry it's late. Rhys has got me scouting out some things, and I didn't get back here until now. I brought dinner,” he said, holding it out to you.
You recognized it from your favorite restaurant. With shaking hands, you took it from him, spotting the note attached to the outside.
I'm sorry. I love you.
I'm sorry. I love you.
I'm sorry. I love you.
Over and over again it was repeated, taking up the entire paper. You placed it on a table inside before your gaze flicked back to him. He was watching you closely, his wings tucked in tightly behind him.
“I thought you gave up on me,” you whispered.
His timid smile fell. “Never,” he said softly. “I'll never give up on you. I love you so much.”
Tears brimmed your eyes and all of a sudden, you knew you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't want to hate him, you didn't want to dwell on the one awful thing that he had done. You had a drawer full of wonderful things that he had done.
“I love you, too,” you murmured, the tears spilling freely down your cheeks now.
A sound that sounded distinctly like a sob escaped Azriel, and he wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. “I never thought I'd hear you say that again,” he sniffed, his hand cupping the back of your head, kissing your temple.
After a long moment, he took your face in his hands, gazing at you for a moment before he slowly kissed your tears away. You laughed lightly and he smiled, leaning in to kiss you so softly, like he was afraid you would break.
“I love you,” he murmured against your mouth. “I love you so much.”
You pulled back long enough to gently brush his tears away. “No more secrets. If you're struggling with something, you need to tell me.”
“I know. I'm sorry. No more secrets.”
“And nobody else. Ever.”
He winced. “I'm so sorry, love.”
“I know you are,” you said softly, cupping his cheek in your hand.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
You rose to your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
At last, you had found your way back home.
#acotar fic#acotar one shot#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#acotar#azriel one shot#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel angst#acotar angst#acotar fanfic#angst#angst with a happy ending#request#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel
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good enough ii || alanna kennedy x reader ||
you and mackenzie talk things out.
alanna's phone call had come first thing in the morning. you had spent your night catching up with the last bits of your schoolwork. it wasn't your ideal night at all, but you were glad to know that there was nothing else for you to worry about for the rest of the school year aside from a couple of exams at the end of the month.
alanna would be glad to hear that. she hated having to share her time with you and your schooling. it made her proud that despite the fact that you could just coast along as an influencer that you still worked hard to get your degree. even if it did take up a lot of time that she wanted to spend with both of your focuses solely directed towards each other.
"how did you sleep?" alanna asked you. she invited you over with the intention to make you breakfast. mackenzie was passed out in the hallway, as if she had attempted to go to alanna's room, but didn't quite make it. you noticed the way your girlfriend's body felt a little stiffer and wondered if she had joined mackenzie on the floor.
"okay. i had a bit of a late night finishing up assignments, but i'm all done now," you told her. alanna smiled as she leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. "how was your night?"
"we argued, made up, drank, fought some more, and i guess cuddled on the floor. macca called kirsty at some point last night, which was not fun to sit through. whenever she wakes up, she's got something to tell you," alanna told you. she sounded very serious, which you weren't used to at all. the blonde rarely took anything so seriously, which kind of threw you off a bit.
"i haven't caused problems, have i?" you asked. alanna could hear the fear in your voice and was quick to reassure you that any problems weren't your fault.
"no, of course not. some people just don't know how to pull their heads out of their asses." alanna spoke softly, despite the small bite in her voice. you turned away from the eggs in front of you to give her a quick peck on the lips. alanna whined a little as you moved away from her.
"not now, i don't want to burn breakfast," you told her. alanna pouted, but moved around the kitchen to help where she could. she took great delight in using the blender to make some smoothies for the three of you. you knew that one was just to give mackenzie a harsh wake up, no doubt knowing that the woman would be hungover.
you had expected mackenzie to come shuffling into the kitchen, not for her to tackle alanna onto the ground. you watched as the two of them rolled around the kitchen floor, finally breaking it up after a couple of minutes. you were quick to reach down and pull alanna back as she tried to wrestle mackenzie into a chokehold.
"this isn't helping," you told her. alanna gave you a sheepish look as she grabbed the plates you had set out and placed them at the table. "thank you."
"sorry," alanna mumbled quietly. mackenzie glanced between the two of them before making a subtle whipping motion at alanna. "ahem."
"i'm getting there. let me wake up a bit first, fuck's sake," mackenzie said as she leaned against the counter. she took a moment to sort her mind out before she turned towards you. "i am sorry for acting like a cunt yesterday. i shouldn't have judged you so quickly, and it is very obvious that you're good for alanna. it's really sweet that you both love each other so much, even if she's acting like a fucking sap all the time."
"thank you for apologizing." you didn't really know what else to say, so you followed alanna into the dining room. it was a bit tense for a while, but alanna was quick to make the two of you talk to each other. you were still understandably apprehensive about mackenzie, but by the time that mackenzie had to leave, you did feel sad about that.
alanna seemed relieved when mackenzie left. she immediately pulled you into her arms as the two of you settled back on the couch. you knew that aside from games and training, the two of you weren't leaving alanna's apartment for the week. she loved getting to spend time with her friends, but that was a mere afterthought whenever she got into one of her clingier moods.
"i am so sorry for noticing earlier," alanna apologized. you were sick of apologies and just wanted to put yesterday behind you. "i should have been paying more attention. if i had known, it never would have gotten that bad."
"you don't have to always be paying attention to me. i am a big girl, i can handle my own problems sometimes," you reminded her. alanna huffed as she shifted on the couch, the new position making it hard for either of you to look anywhere else. "you don't let me solve all of your problems for you. i just have to trust that you'll come to me when you need help."
"you don't think that i don't trust you, do you?" alanna asked. you shook your head. you knew that alanna trusted you. at times, you thought alanna could be a bit too trusting, but it was part of why you loved her. she kept herself well guarded, but the moment that someone slipped through, her walls came crashing down. "because i love and trust you so much, more than anybody else in the whole world."
"i know that you do. i know that you just want to protect me, but some things i need to learn to handle on my own. i know we're keeping this private right now, one day, people will know and i don't want there to be any doubts that i can't stand up on my own." alanna let out a small sigh at your words, but she understood. it would be a slow process, but you knew that eventually, you'd learn not to depend on her so much.
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Sleeping Beauty
Gif by @no-one-fights-alone
SUMMARY: The sleeping beauty is Soap hehe. You weren't supposed to fall asleep in the rec room, but you did. When you emerge, there's someone snoozing in your lap.
PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader
TAGS: Fluff, first kiss, confessions, light/non graphic smut: dirty talk, friction, Clingy!Soap, Civilian!Reader, Smitten!Soap AND Smitten!Reader. Part of the Moaning and Blushing Soap Agenda.
WORDS COUNT: 1.8k
A/N: My thanks to the fanartists who draw Soap alseep, giving me inspiration :') been obsessed with this piece.
It was never your intention to doze off on the rec room's couch.
However, the combination of the coziness of the sofa, the bone-deep tiredness you accumulated over the work week, and the delicious warmth radiating from Soap's body eventually defeated you. The rowdy Sergeant had always displayed a tactile kind of friendliness, but lately he was glued to you, downright clingy.
Another person would have been irritated by this behavior quickly enough - his teammates from the 141 made it pretty clear, teasing him frequently about it, and jokingly pitying you. Nonetheless, you didn’t mind, at least outside of the bursts of heat that would overrun your face from time to time. Just when you thought you were used to him, one brush of his fingertips or one gaze from his piercing blue eyes would revive the fire in your blood.
But just like with most things, you couldn’t say no to Johnny. Not to mention, you were seriously touch-starved; had been your whole life, to be honest. To have someone apparently addicted to the feel of your skin was like a heaven-sent gift.
This was how you ended up sitting way too close to him on the couch, thighs touching, his burly arm thrown carelessly on the backrest behind you, as the task force was enjoying some TV before heading to bed. Between vaguely paying attention to the movie, keeping up with the guys’ conversation, and fighting your own mind to forbid it from obsessing over how burning his leg felt against yours despite the barrier of your respective jeans, you were plenty busy. At least until you fell asleep without realizing.
Filled with confusion, you sluggishly blink at the half-light illuminating you. The lights have been switched off, but the TV provides enough brightness for you to figure out your surroundings. The room is silent and empty, save for the murmur emitted by the television, and your lap feels strangely heavy.
You lower your eyes to figure out that mystery, and immediately supress a yelp of surprise by pressing your hand against your mouth.
John Mactavish in the flesh is right there, sleeping like a baby.
You can’t help but drink in this one-of-a-kind sight; you've never seen him asleep before. Never contemplated him looking so peaceful, so tranquil. There's an inherent vulnerability that comes with catching him sleeping.
He's laying on his stomach, the side of his face pressed against your thigh, grabbing it with one hand. The way his cheek is squished by your leg is both funny and adorable. Low but regular snores escape his parted lips.
His mohawk is as ruffled as hair that short can be, and now that you’re observing it, you’re tempted to stroke it, to find out whether it is as soft as its owner. You ponder over that dilemma for a minute, biting your lip, before giving into temptation. Tentatively ruffling the top of it at first, terrified of waking him up, you gain in confidence as his hair proves to be delightfully smooth. You run your hand through the strands carefully, your touch as delicate as possible, removing some stray locks from his forehead as you go.
Eventually you stop, taking in the room around you, and thinking about how this situation can’t last. Soap really needs to reach his bed. You peek at him again.
There's a self-indulging part of you that very much desires to let him sleep, keep him in your lap and stare at him for hours. With how heavy he feels, you’re not sure you could get up even if you wanted to.
“Why'd ye stop?” he rasps, voice made hoarse by drowsiness, tone surprisingly whiny.
You barely stifle a screech, completely taken aback by his awakening.
He shoots you a look so indignant, you'd think you woke him up at 3 a.m with a bucket of ice-cold water. That, or he's a petulant child you’re waking up for school.
“Sorry…?”
Why you are apologizing, you don't even know. His expression somehow manages to make you feel guilty, so you lift your hand and caress his hair again.
His eyes instantly close at the contact, like a cat. A pleased, satisfied “Mmmh” leaves him, as a deep rumble escapes his torso, like a purr. A blissful smile stretches his lips, sending a pang to your chest.
“Soap.”
“...”
“Johnny.”
“Mmh?”
“You need to get to your own bed.”
“Nooooo.”
He proceeds to turn his head and bury his face in your lap. Next thing you know, the hand squeezing your thigh releases you, only to sneak behind your back and grab your waist. The other slides under your legs to seize your knee.
You end up well and truly trapped in his grip.
“M great ‘ere.” he retorts, muffled by your body.
His hot breath sends tingles over your skin, and the motion of his lips against your pants provokes a throbbing between your thighs. You feel your cheeks’ temperature rise dangerously. The fact that you two are alone together is both a blessing and a curse. You’re going to give Gaz and Ghost a piece of your mind for abandoning you like that.
“Soap,” you sigh, trying your best to sound unaffected, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You can’t stay here all night.”
“Can't I?”
The cheekiness in his voice manages to be both irritating and arousing.
“John Mactavish,” you scold, attempting to sound menacing.
“Could spend tha whole night between yer thighs, bonnie.”
Yep, that's it, your entire face is on fire. He's never been so forward before; your chest feels like it's about to burst.
Unfortunately for Johnny, your annoyance exceeds your embarrassment. This explains why your next course of action is to take hold of his mohawk and yank.
Face finally unsticking from you, he lets out a noise that's half a grunt, half a moan, and fully obscene.
Astounded, turned on, and just a bit sheepish, you stare at him in bewildered silence as he returns your gaze, cerulean eyes wide, cheekbones and the tips of his ears bright red.
You only meant to remove him from your lap - cross your heart and hope to die. And roughen him up a little in the process as payback, but that was counting on the fact that his pain tolerance must be way beyond the average mortal's.
As you stay frozen in place, he pounces. Next thing you know, he got you pinned against the backrest, hands on each side of your head, hovering over your lap.
“Can I kiss ye?”
His voice suddenly turned so husky that the question comes out more like a growl than anything else.
“W-what?” you stutter, convinced you heard him wrong.
“Can I kiss ye? Please?” he insists, pouting.
The “please” has the effect of a punch in your sternum.
“I… you… uh.. “
His face is way too close to yours, his gaze way too intense for you to do anything else but combust on the spot.
“We shouldn't”, you mumble, looking anywhere but at him.
“Aye we can, fraternization is authorized between military and office personnel.”
That has the merit to make you look back at him, eyes wide in surprise.
“How do you..?”
“Ah checked”, he asserts like it's evident.
“You're really putting me on the spot…”
You pivot your head to the right to relieve yourself from his piercing blue eyes. That doesn't seem to deter him at all, however, as he presses his forehead against your temple.
“Well, ye tend tae run away when ah flirt wi’ ye…”
His lips brush against your cheek as he talks.
“So really, this is all yer fault. Yankin’ mah hair like that-”
“MY fault!? You’re the clingy bastard who stuck his face into my lap-”
Outraged, you face him abruptly. He must have predicted your reaction because he backed away enough to avoid a headbutt.
“Very nice lap.”
The compliment leaves you unimpressed.
“Not really,” you correct automatically, your self-consciousness deeply ingrained.
He doesn't lose his smug smirk at that.
“Oh? Need me tae demonstrate?”
His hand leaves the backrest and slips between the sofa and your leg. He grabs your thigh and lifts it slightly, then slowly trails the tips of two fingers from the edge of your ass until the back of your knee, sending suggestive tickles all over your lower body.
You stare in anticipation, voice stuck somewhere in your throat.
“Bonnie? Ah'm not hearin’ a no, but ah'm not hearin’ a yes either-”
“Yes,” you murmur.
He tilts his head questioningly, smile teasing.
“Wha’ was that? Didn’t catch-”
“I said yes, you-,” you assert, riled again, loud enough that he cannot pretend to have missed it.
His mouth presses against yours almost immediately, so eager that your back hits the backrest. You close your eyes and interlace your fingers behind his neck.
His hands feel everywhere at once, like he can’t get enough of you. As for you, the accumulation of sensations threatens to overwhelm you, so you clench your hands into fists to hold on, one desperately clutching the other's wrist.
Lost in his embrace, you forget yourself. At the feeling of his muscular thigh between your legs, you grind against it thoughtlessly.
Soap reacts instantly, abandoning your lips for a moment, despite you chasing after his.
“Humpin’ my leg, ae? Ye naughty girl… ah can give ye so much better than mah leg.”
Regardless of his comment, he pushes back against your crotch.
“But if that's what ye want… ah'll give ye anythin’. Everythin’ ye want, baby. Ah'll be so good to ye, promise.”
The sweet vows falling from his filthy mouth makes you hang onto him tighter, as if you were trying to fusionate your two bodies.
“...Everything,” you reply softly after kissing him some more.
“Wha…?”
Taking Johnny by surprise is not something that you manage often. But oh, how the view is worth it.
He withdrews a bit, face flushed, mowhawk tousled, gaping, eyebrows lightly frowned in incomprehension.
“What if I want everything? All of you?”
You cup his cheek affectionately. Your own boldness surprises you, but this whole situation feels like a dream anyway - maybe it is one -, so you might as well make the best of it. Soap has never been one to be stingy with compliments, so the least you can do is return the favor.
“You're amazing, Soap. You’re so brave, and smart, strong, selfless, and goodhearted, caring… and you have the prettiest eyes I've ever - mmh.”
He seemed pretty captivated by your words, listening religiously, until something snapped and he crushed his lips against yours.
After making you dizzy, he releases you, beaming. You remember hearing Price calling him “sunshine”. He's always been luminous, but now he's downright blinding.
“I love ye. IloveyeIloveyeIloveye.”
He chants fervently while covering your face in ardent kisses.
“Ye don't have tae say it back,” he adds hastily afterwards, like distressed he'd scare you away.
“Ye don't have tae say anythin. Ah just… can’t contain it anymore…”
“I love you too,” you cut in.
The words came out more easily than you expected. Almost naturally. It makes sense in a way - you’ve been enamored for a while after all.
You two seal your mutual confessions with an enthousiastic kiss.
#mine#soap x reader#soap x you#soap squad™️#soap squad#soap fluff#soap smut#does it count as smut if they keep their clothes on? 😭#john soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#soap mactavish#cod mw2#cod mw3#cod x reader#cod fanfic#cod fic#cod fluff#cod smut#cod soap#soap cod#johnny soap mctavish x you#john soap mctavish x you
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Walks with Aziraphale were always so amusing, especially when he took one of his different forms. Tonight, Crowley took note of a few different reactions:
1. Much to his bemusement, quite a few people crossed the road entirely just to avoid him (he didn't know why, he thought this particular form was very charming).
2. Those who didn't avoid them either didn't notice at all, or cooed adoringly at his companion. A few snake enthusiasts tried their best to impart advice upon him (Yes, he was aware it was a chilly night to have a python outside. Yes, he was aware that he had a few extra rolls on him, and he would appreciate it if they didn't body shame him, please and thank you).
3. He had a particularly interesting encounter with a stranger who tried his best to buy Aziraphale from him (he didn't know whether to laugh or be offended on his companion's behalf when the person subsequently dropped their price offering upon learning he was male. He turned them down, of course).
This just in: local vampire hunter tries his hardest to look cool in front of his crush.
I said soon and I guess I meant now haha.
I could help but draw Crowley and Aziraphale from @mrghostrat 's new Vampire AU (thanks for the permission btw!!) and I'll be damned if I couldn't pass up the opportunity to draw Ball Python Azi after being deeply entrenched in Ball python morphs and drawing them for the past few years.
I'm also a big sucker (har har) for any kind of vampire au, so I was incredibly excited to draw this!! I'm still not confident in my ability to draw Crowley (or jackets oof) but I tried.
On that, while I have ya'll here, a few fun facts about Ball Pythons and Morphs:
Azi looks to me to be based on a Blue Eyed Lucy (Leucistic) ball python. Leucistic is different from Albino - both lack pigment, but Leucistics only lack pigments in parts, rather than entirely like with Albinism. The fastest way to tell the difference is the eye color.
Blue Eyed Lucies have eye colors that range from Black to Blue - blue obviously being the more popular eye color.
The whiter the snake, the more sought after it is (not all Lucies are pure white, depends on the morph combo)
Unlike a majority of ball python morphs, Blue Eyed Lucies don't have a distinct gene combo that defines them. Generally, their morphs included Mocha, Mojave, Lesser, Butter, etc. The combos are generally endless. A Super Mojave (Mojave bred to Mojave) will produce a fairly grey/white snake, but their heads tend to be a very dusty grey, and isn't an ideal combo for a Lucy.
A snake that seems incredibly white when hatched may change color as it ages and become less white. This is common for all morphs, and their patterns define themselves and get stronger with age.
In breeding, males are generally less desired than females, and run at a lower price generally. This is because a single male can breed multiple females, so it's less effective to have more males in a clutch than females.
Obesity in snakes IS a real thing, and generally hard to manage if you do have an obese snake. Snakes tend to retain weight well, so exercise is really the only method to help bring their weight down (plus smaller meals). Good luck if you have an obese snake that isn't particularly inclined to be active.
Ball Pythons generally tend to have what's called a 1,000 gram wall - in which a snake that hits 1k grams stops eating and will not gain more weight. No one is 100% sure why this phenomena happens, but it's incredibly common.
Not a fact but opinion: Paradox ball Pythons are my favorite morph. If you want to see some incredibly interesting genetics, look them up.
#good omens#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#katiefrog217#crowley#good omens fanart#aziraphale#my art#art#good omens 2#good omens au#vampire au#mrghostrat fanart#snake aziraphale#the ineffable husbands#good omens vampire au#crowley x aziraphale#aziraphale x crowley#good omens fandom#go art#go fanart#fanart
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please do paige x reader friends to lovers🙏
Aborbed
pairing: paige bueckers x reader
plot: you and paige are best friends, but you both want something more
note: i’m sorry if this is bad, i tried my best i hope you like it!! ☺️
➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖
paige was nervous for her game the next day. she wasn’t worried about her ability to play. in a way, she hoped your guy’s team lost. she’d promised her teammates that if they won the game she’d finally confess her feelings to you, her fellow teammate and best friend.
you and your teammates were currently practicing 1v1 in preparation for tomorrow’s game. paige was with kk and you were practicing with ice, a difficult opponent for you due to your height. despite this, you were on fire with your blocking and shooting; so much so that even geno commended you for your efforts in practice. after what felt like hours, he finally dismissed the team.
“get some good rest for tomorrow, it shouldn’t be too tough but i still need you guys playing your very best!” he told you all. you nodded your head with a grin on your face, he had become almost like a father figure to you.
you walked back to the locker rooms with paige, arms intertwined to have a quick shower and retrieve your bag. “you were amazing out there today, y/n! i mean obviously i know you’re good like that but wow.” you smiled at paige’s kind words. she was always to encouraging and it reminded you to never stop trying. it was nice to have a best friend like that.
you showered and brushed your hair out and grabbed your stuff so you could hurry back to your dorm, all you wanted to do was snuggle up with a blanket (and possibly paige) and watch a movie. “you ready, pretty?” paige asked you. you yawned in response and started towards the locker room exit, when kk, ice, and azzi stopped the two of you.
“hey you two! we’re about to go out for some drinks tonight, we were wondering if yall wanted to join?”
“thanks but no thanks,” paige replied. “i gotta get this girl home. she’s beat.”
you were too tired to hear the girls’ reply as you and paige made the walk together back to your shared apartment. when you finally got there, she opened the door with her set of keys and you collapsed onto the couch. paige giggled at your adorable antics and her face felt warmer than usual. she watched as you rolled around in different positions on the couch in a desperate attempt to get comfortable. you fidgeted for about a minute until a bright idea popped into your head:
“paigeeee?” you called her name in the sweetest voice u could muster. she rolled her eyes and walked up to where you were laying on the couch.
“you need something?”
“yeah. you. come lay with me? pleaseeee?” you stuck your bottom lip out slightly and gave her the biggest puppy dog eyes you could. she laughed out loud and pushed you up. “okay, okay! make some room for me then.”
she sat down next to you on the couch and expected you to just lay your head on her shoulder or something. that was until you flipped yourself horizontally once again and laid your head in her lap. paige froze. she was used to giving and receiving physical affection from you, as you were her best friend. lately, however, you’d been a bit more touchy-feely. not that she’d minded anyways, in fact she loved it but it proved harder for her to hide how pink her cheeks got whenever she looked at you, and how hard the butterflies in her stomach fluttered when she saw your face. this was mainly why she let her teammates make the bet anyways, she couldn’t contain her feelings anymore.
you were her every thought. her favorite conversation topic. her favorite person. you absorbed her. paige couldn’t contain herself. she couldn’t stand the idea of you laying in her lap so innocently and sweetly without knowing how she felt. and she was NOT ready to confess right this minute. paige cleared her throat, “hi i mean hey uh im going to make us some dinner if ur uh cool about that? i mean, with that. yeah.” she lightly pushed your head off her lap and stood up, almost robotically and stalked into the kitchen.
‘what was that about?’ you wondered, ‘well. only one way to find out!’ you stood up and followed paige’s footsteps into the kitchen.
“paige. what’s wrong with you?”
“what? nothing bro. get off my back”
“uh ok so you’re actually NOT going to talk to me like that! what’s going on? you’re acting so off. i mean, we both know you can’t cook to save your life.” you were put off by her cold attitude towards you, now starting to get upset yourself. the wheels turned in your head as you wondered what could be up with her. had you made her uncomfortable by laying in her lap? was that too far? had she not liked it but was too nice to tell you?
“paige,” you started, “i’m really sorry if i made you uncomfortable. i won’t touch you anymore, i promise.” you tried to assure your best friend that you never wanted to do anything to make her feel weird.
“what?! oh my god. no pretty girl, it’s not that. it’s…” paige sighed to herself. ‘now or never i guess’ she thought. “it’s the fact that whenever you touch me, my skin feels like it’s just been electrocuted or something. everytime you look at me my face feels hot. but everytime you look at me i have to remind myself that you’re just my best friend. i know we’re more than that. don’t you know we’re more than that?” she questioned, tears already welling in her eyes.
you busted out into laughter. paige looked at you shocked. “damn y/n i wasn’t expecting you to feel the same way, but i wasn’t expecting you to be mean about it either.”
“noooooo it’s not that paigey. it’s just. i was thinking the exact same thing. i mean honestly the whole team and i made a bet that if we won i’d have to confess that i like you.” you confessed sheepishly as you rubbed your hand comfortingly on her arm.
paige stopped crying instantly and looked at you perplexed. “wait. they told ME if we won i’d have to confess that I like YOU.” you both busted out into a fit of giggles. after you eventually calmed down from laughing, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around paige’s neck in a tight hug.
“i’m so happy i finally get to have you,” you spoke, “i’m so, so happy. in a way, i’m kind of grateful for our team for helping since we were too stupid to figure it out ourselves.” paige kissed your forehead and hummed.
“you’re right, i’m so happy too lovebug!”
“lovebug?” you looked up at her quizzically.
“it’s a cute little name for my cute little girlfriend!!”
“was that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“yes. just go with it and say yes.” that was one thing about paige. she always got what she wanted, and always got what she sought after. but you were grateful she wanted you. paige picked up her phone and texted your team groupchat.
Huskies 🐾
paige:
you guys are so dead. me and my girlfriend(🤗) are coming for you
#paige buckets#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers x reader#uconn wbb#ncaa wbb#uconn huskies#wlw post
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links are coming!! i don't have any ideas to request so im just sharing those! hopefully you like them too 🥹
i wish I didn't ask about the scat ew!! that was 🤢
first one is ⬇️ i don't know why, but i always imagine könig would do this!!!
https://twitter.com/PusiaMokra69/status/1734177111466754477?t=PqG57VBUnLccDuqB6o5J_w&s=19
the way he grabs her aaghh plus he cummed so cute 😩 he looked like könig to me :(( the way he rubs himself... im dying please send help
https://x.com/lanadelgothx/status/1766887877491740880?s=20
look at his balls 😭
https://twitter.com/sexarchiv/status/1732327021319958574?t=dfYhSFAGA7jazq7akltmQg&s=19
sorry but this kind of intimacy?? imagine he'll be deployed 2 days later and this is happening 😭 i would cry :(
https://twitter.com/helIishporn/status/1758559148084441267?t=7ovoWiu0vznqw1FmNv5vVw&s=19
oh that grip, those hands... it's getting hot here 🔥
https://twitter.com/oscrtwt/status/1777485482978320893?t=wexAxI8ZI-zZBEQFBiX8iA&s=19
i hope all the links are working! so much luv muwah 💖
these are all so hot nd very könig <3__<3 thank u for sharing bae 🙏
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Of Ghouls and Drugs
Request: "ok so I'm absolutely obsessed with that coop fic you did where reader helps him when he's injured and it's super domestic and fluffy....could you maybe do something where the roles are reversed and he helps the reader who's injured? maybe she's a little shaken up over it too and he calms her down and it's just very sweet and soft. thank you i adore your writing so much 💖"
A/N: First of all, the reception of my Fallout content has been amazing. If you're one of the people who have liked/reblogged/replied/shared/saved/etc, I am eternally grateful to you. Second, thank you once again to the anon who sent this request! It's a bit of a switcharoo from Stuck Like Glue, so if you need some more Cooper content, check that out or take a peek at my Fallout Masterlist!
Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader
WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence
Summary: Injured and scared, you can always count on your Cowboy to save the day.
Word Count: 1.7k+
(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)
You don’t know why you’re hyperventilating.
Sure, you’d been in countless fights and been scared more times than you can remember. In the Wasteland, if you’re not scared every now and again, you’re dead. But today, cornered in a decrepit open-air shopping mall store while a hoard of feral ghouls claw at the rusty security gate, you’re frozen with fear.
It was an old clothing store, picked apart by scavengers and ravaged by time. Everything was covered in a thick blanket of dust, from the old checkout counter to the racks of high heels that sit untouched. Unfortunately for you, it hadn’t been a department store you ducked into where there could be some hope of escape. This one was a small boutique-type outlet with one way in and one impassable way out. Furthermore, the roll-down security door currently saving your life had been pure luck on your part. The lever for it was broken off and mounted on the side of the entrance; you’d only found it after the damn thing had torn your upper arm to shreds in your haste to get away.
And now you’re ducked behind the checkout counter, old patterned men’s tie wrapped tightly around your bicep in a poor excuse of a tourniquet. You were out of ammo, banking on the security gate holding until the ghouls got bored or forgot about you. But there was something about today, about how they’d come charging from the darkness the second Cooper had left to turn in your latest bounty, that terrified you. Feral ghouls were shells of people with no logic or sense left in them, but the attack had felt calculated, planned. You argued with yourself, knowing they had basic instinct and probably just singled you out after another of their kind left.
Then again, maybe you’re conflating your fear of Cooper becoming one of them one day with the looming fear of death.
Unable to do anything about it, you sit behind the counter and shake. Your breath comes in quick punches, inhales cutting off the exhales and vice versa. The iron smell of your own blood is overwhelming. Despite the tourniquet, warm liquid leaks down your arm and drips into a thick crimson puddle beneath you. Your backpack, full of stimpaks and every chem known to man, is abandoned just outside the gate. The damn thing had been torn away when you’d got caught on the jagged lever, beyond your reach and unable to be saved.
The ghouls wail and groan while clawing at the gate, the sound of rattling metal echoing around the store’s walls. It’s deafening to the point where you cover your ears, accepting the fact that you’re screwed either way. Blood loss or ghoul attack, it doesn’t matter. Cooper’s long gone towards the last town, and you’re cursing the apparently lackluster job the two of you did making sure your camp was secure.
“Take a look around.” He’d told you, “Getch’yu some new clothes if you need ‘em.”
Cooper’s voice and kiss goodbye lingers in your thoughts as you hold your hands over your ears. It’s a more pleasant thought than the ghouls outside. Your ghoul always keeps you safe.
“Darlin’.”
You almost smile to yourself, probably delusional from blood loss.
“Hey!”
Your name slipping out of Cooper’s mouth dances across your foggy mind.
“Goddamn it woman, open your eyes.”
Something shakes your whole body, and your eyes snap open.
At first it’s too dark for you to recognize any solid features, and you scramble away. The missing nose and scarred flesh blend together in your mind. You swing your injured arm in blind panic, which has the tourniquet breaking loose and bright arterial blood spattering the floor.
But you hear a voice calling through the haze. Soft and slow, like it’s calling to a wounded animal. “Ay, ay ay. Calm down now, sweetheart.”
You squint through the darkness, fighting dizziness. A familiar silhouette makes itself apparent.
“Cooper?”
His face, weathered by radiation and pain, is usually twisted into a dramatic scowl. But right now it’s concerned, brow furrowed into worry that you’d never seen. The sounds of ghouls and impending doom have vanished.
“It’s me, babydoll.” He almost coos at you, reaching out a hand. “C’mere.”
Your emotions rage, and tears burn at your eyes. You reach out a hand and brush the one he’s holding out, but your fingertips barely catch on the seam of his gloves. You squeeze to make sure he’s real. He wraps strong fingers around your wrist and pulls you in.
It’s easy to give in as his familiar scent and feel washes over you. Gunpowder and smoke are the main notes, but you catch the leather of his duster and the unavoidable grime provided by the Wasteland. The tears flow easily out the corner of your eyes and drip down your cheek.
“I-I don’t know where they came from.” You clutch at his coat, “Scared the hell out of me.”
Cooper is still moving despite you being all but wrapped around him where he’s knelt down. You feel his hands near your injured arm and instinctively cower.
“Came from somewhere in that back parking lot, it looks like.” Cooper grits in his usual gruff tone, “Must’a got ‘em goin’ when they heard us. Waited ‘til you were alone.”
You sniffle pathetically into his coat, and it morphs into a strangled cry as he wraps the tie back around your arm. His other hand holds a broken piece of wood that he uses to knot into the fabric and twist.
“Ah! Fucking hell, Coop!” Your protest is little more than a whine as your arm starts to go numb.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs, tipping his head back so he’s able to look in your eyes. “Don’t want ya to bleed out here.”
You hold his gaze for a moment. “Why’d you come back?”
He helps you stand, giving you a moment to lean back against the counter and acclimate to the dizziness. Your eyes hold steady on him, watching lashless eyelids blink above gaunt cheeks.
“Vials.” He hooks an arm around your shoulders and the other behind your knees and lifts you up, “I wanted to have enough in case I got caught up.”
The slow cadence of Cooper’s walk almost lulls you into closing your eyes and he trudges silently to the shop’s entrance. You see gore splattered on the walls and floor, headless ghouls lying motionless at his feet. The top handle of your backpack is sticking out of the mess, and Cooper snatches it up.
He walks for some distance, away from the pile of dispatched ghouls. He doesn’t stop until you come up on a store a ways away, advertising furniture and televisions. It seemed relatively untouched considering an atomic war and a two-hundred year wait. The Ghoul moves near the door, and you hear him clanking about with the lock. It takes a few tries and muttered curses, but Cooper jimmies it enough so he can get a toe nudged in the door. You attempt to help by grabbing the door, but he moves your hand back to his shoulder and pushes in on his own.
Cooper sets you gently on a shockingly clean and padded couch. The Ghoul is quiet, but gets to work cleaning the long gash in your arm. He gives you his inhaler, but there’s a strange canister clicked into the mechanism rather than his vial. You take a huff, and gag at the strong taste.
“H-Holy Shit.” You cough, and it almost distracts you from the pain of a stimpak being stabbed into your wound. “What is that?”
Cooper unties the tourniquet when he’s satisfied, and sets the stimpak off to the side. “Med-X. Inhalin' it works faster.”
You nod and huff on his inhaler again. The Med-X is potent as all hell, and it feels like it’s shooting straight to your brain. You’re more willing, desperate for more as the effects set in. Cooper settles himself on the cushions beside you, watching carefully and taking away the inhaler before you overdose yourself.��
“I’m sorry for bein’ stupid.” You murmur. “I shoulda ran anywhere but there.”
Cooper leans in, ungloved hand cupping the side of your neck and tilting back. “Never apologize for survivin’, sugar.”
The drugs swirling about in your brain make it hard to form normal sentences. “I wouldn’t have without you… I hurt my arm and lost my cool.”
He tries to talk, but you shush him.
“I couldn’t quit thinkin’ about those ghouls… about you.”
Cooper sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He pulls you in close and shushes the soft cries that creep up your throat, fueled by a drug-induced haze.
“Y’know… There’s always somethin’ that’s gonna make us lose it.” Cooper drums his fingers on your forearms. “No matter how tough we might be.”
You feel his lips in your hair and lean into it. “Guess I gotta trust that, ‘cause you’re pretty tough.”
Unbeknownst to you, your words are already comically slurred. Cooper chuckles into the bird’s nest on your head.
“Feelin’ that Med-X, honey?”
You swear to god, it’s gotta be that drawl that’s honey, not the drugs.
“Jus-Just a little.” You slump further into his side, head dropping onto his chest. He uses the tip of his boot to drag a nearby footrest closer and prop his feet up.
“Good. Time for a nap.” Cooper tilts his hat down over his eyes.
You hum, unable to argue. A nap sounds rather splendid, especially with the amount of drugs circulating your body. You glance up just as the Ghouls huffs down the rest of the Med-X himself.
“Coop!” You try to chastise him, but it comes out as more of a laugh. “That’s not safe. You don’t need that right now.”
The Ghoul grumbles something that sure sounds like ‘goody two-shoes’, but reigns in the hostility,
“Sure I do.” His hand rubs up and down your arm before finding its way to your waist. “I’m an old fuckin’ man. Joint pain.”
“Joint pain, schmoint pain.” You mock, eyes falling shut and staying that way. “Fuckin’ old man.”
Cooper actually chuffs at your remark and ducks to press a kiss to your forehead. It’s unexpected and sweet to feel such affection from him, and combines with the euphoric feeling of opioids pulsing through your brain.
“Go to bed, darlin’. Before I knock you out myself.”
thanks for reading, much love ❤
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
#Cooper Howard#Cooper Howard x You#Ghoul x Reader#fallout imagine#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#cooper howard x f!reader#The Ghoul x Reader#the Ghoul x you#cooper howard x oc#fallout tv series#lucy maclean#walton goggins#fallout fiends#possessive!cooper howard#fallout#fallout 4#fallout new vegas#ghouls deserve love too
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Mafia!Simon x Bartender!Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
“So? You coming or not?” Simon asks and takes a small sip of his whiskey.
“To a ball? You know I'm not one for that kind of stuff!” you respond and throw a wet rag on the counter and start rubbing the stains off the black marble.
“I'm asking you to come with me... as my date... and it won’t be that long. I promise. We’ll get out of there whenever you want.” he mentions, eyeing you from the edge of the glass that meets his lips once again.
“Fine! But I can’t promise to be good company. I have no idea what to do in that kind of setting!” you say with a light chuckle.
“You’re always the perfect company, love. And don’t worry about it. Just stay by my side and look pretty... as you always do.” he mutters the last part, but your sharp hearing doesn’t miss it.
You smile and look over at him, noticing the slightly flustered look written on his face which makes your smile even wider, “Thank you.” you murmur as quietly with a bashful smile and of course he catches that.
“Wait! When even is this ball?” you ask, remembering that he never mentioned it.
“Tonight!” he replies, “What?! I can’t get ready ‘till then! Simon, what the hell?! I don’t even have a proper dress!” you say in an agitated tone, a shocked expression etched on your face.
He only chuckles and places his credit card on the counter, “Go buy yourself a dress. I'll pick you up at 7.” he says nonchalantly and leaves.
‘bloody fuckin’ hell’ you grumble under your breath and let out a frustrated sigh, deciding to close up early to go get ready for the ball.
And it slowly starts to dawn on you. He has literally asked you on a date! Why would he if he didn’t like you?
And soon, the familiar butterflies return dancing in your belly and you look around the bar to make sure no one is there before letting out a loud squeal like a school girl!
-----
He picks you up at 7 sharp in a black Rolls Royce.
His breath hitches in his throat the moment you walk out the door in your beautiful dress, all dolled up and pretty... not that you weren’t before... you’re always beautiful in his eyes.
“You look beautiful, dove.” he mentions before kissing your forehead, “You’re not too bad yourself! You clean up nice, Mr. Riley!” you say with your gorgeous smile while lightly touching the collar of his suit.
‘you’re gonna be the death of me!’ he thinks to himself as he gazes into your beautiful eyes, the very eyes that have stolen his heart.
“Shall we?” you ask and he gestures to the driver to open the door for you.
Most of the drive there is silent... but a comfortable, peaceful silence. It's never awkward with him. You've always liked spending time together in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.
-----
You arrive at your destination, the fancy ballroom and all the pretentious people smiling and laughing together, acting as if they’re friends when in reality, they will stab each other in the back without hesitation if the opportunity arises.
But you manage to keep a joyous and warm facade as you mingle with the other guests and the night goes fairly smoothly.
Apart from the nosey people asking if you two are in a relationship only for you to deny and say you’re only good friends much to your own dismay in order not to embarrass him or make him uncomfortable.
But what you don’t notice is the disappointed look on his face every time you mention that you’re nothing but friends.
But there is something you do notice. You spot the familiar figure in the distant corner of the room. A man you have seen at the bar on a few occasions.
Who is he? Is he following you?
There's a slight churn in your stomach at the mere thought of it and you tell Simon that you’re not feeling well.
He places a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the car to take you home as soon as you mention it to him.
-----
“Simon?!" you call out nervously as you see a vehicle approaching in the rear-view mirror when you're halfway from your home.
"I think someone is following us!” you say, but it’s too late as you hear shots firing and then... nothing.
@luvecarson
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost riley#ghost simon riley#cod fanfic#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#call of duty#cod mw2#cod#mw2#cod modern warfare
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middle finger and promise rings - jaehyun scenario
helllooooo a fluff moment with jung jaehyun. I was scrolling through tiktok the other day and I found a compilation of him laughing and it was the cutest thing ever so now we're here😅
For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.
and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(pics nad gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
Jaehyun enters the apartment and the first thing he hears is your laugh. He hangs his jacket on the hook, takes off his shoes before walking towards the living room where he sees you lying on the couch giggling to yourself.
You spot him over your phone, quickly turning it off when you spot your boyfriend "Hi, you're home early" you greet him, walking towards him.
He smiles at you, opening his arms to give you a very much needed hug. He does everyday, without a fail. Whenever he gets home from work or somewhere, he asks for a hug from you.
"What were you watching?" he asks
"You"
"Huh?" he peaks down at you, still caged in his arms
"I was looking through my phone then I saw a bunch of videos, like from when we started dating until recent. You looked cute, especially when you laugh" you answer him
"I thought my laugh was loud" he chuckles, letting you to sit on the couch. You follow him, taking the seat beside him.
"It is. But I love it so much, you know you have this kind of laugh when you find something really funny and your face scrunches up in a cute way" you try to mimic it while Jaehyun watches.
You might as well tell him you'll marry him with the way you're making his heart explode right now. Moments like these are what he looks forward to the most when he comes home. The simple conversations with you, no matter how random they are, he cherishes them so much.
"Oh by the way, can we order chicken and pasta for dinner? Or chinese food? I can't decide, how about you what do you want?"
"Chinese sounds good, do you want me to call our favorite place?" he asks, already getting his phone out
"Okay, and this came in today by the way" you say, passing the package that arrived today. "What is it?" you ask, while waiting for him to open it
"I forgot, must've ordered this a long time ago"
Without checking the label he opens it. When he flips the unsealed package upside down, a velvet box falls on his lap.
The two of you freeze.
He should've checked the label. Jaehyun internally panics.
Meanwhile you don't say anything, waiting for him to do or say something. But he doesn't so you clear your throat, getting your phone on the table "I'll order, tell me if you want anything else" you tell him.
"Uh yea sure" Jaehyun swallows the lump in his throat, finally coming to his senses. Taking the box before excusing himself. You hear the bedroom door open and close.
After that night you don't mention anything about it. You didn't ask questions. You acted like you didn't see it. Jaehyun wondered if he should ask but he doesn't know where to start.
What do you think it was, did you have your suspicions, were you upset with him? These are the questions running in his mind. But you never said anything to him, like everything was normal.
He was debating if he should've just showed you what was inside. If you were thinking it was a ring then you're right.
About a few months ago, he ordered a ring after finally getting your size. He's still worrying if you'll like it. It's not an engagement rring, not yet atleast. The ring inside was a promise ring for you. You told him a story about wearing a ring ever since your teen years, way back before the two of you met. You bought yourself a ring, a promise to exchange it to something else when you get yourself a boyfriend.
You showed him the ring before, it was a simple metal band you used to wear on your middle finger. You never took it off, not a day. That was until he asked you to be his girlfriend.
Of course he had to get you a new one, he was just waiting for the right time to give it to you.
He forgot to check the email about the shipping and didn't expect it to arrive when it did. It definitely wasn't part of the plan to open it infront of you.
It's been a few weeks since then. You honestly kind off forgot about it. You trust Jaehyun will tell you in the right time.
Tonight, he's running a bit late. He got caught up in a meeting so when he got home you were already sleeping. He enters the apartment carefully, walking through the hallway and cracking the bedroom door slowly.
The lights were all off, the only light coming from outside but he can see your silhouette from under the blanket. Quickly but quietly he gets ready for bed, sliding beside you.
He turns sideways to watch you, eyes closed, face peaceful, breathing slow and quite. You're giving off the most serene aura, he can't think of anything else but you.
Your hand was resting open beside your head, he reaches a finger out to trace random patterns while still watching you. He missed you so much today, he don't want to wake you up but he wishes he can give you a hug.
He does that for quite some time, tracing things on your palm while watching you waiting for sleep to come to him too.
From random patterns, to short words. He's now tracing random words on your palm, like you always do with his. You always do it randomly, in public or when it's just the two of you. Most times you spell out the word 'I love you' on his palm, that was actually how you said it to him for the first time. It took him some time to finally realize it, and when he did looked over at you with a surprised look. Saying the same three words back at you.
Right now he traces the word 'mine' in yours, while his mind wonders just how lucky he is to have you in his life.
He believes this isn't the only lifetime he'll love you, it isn't possible. Wishing hoping praying that in all alternate universes, however many there are, that version of him meets their version of you.
Suddenly feelings emotional, he sits up on the bed before reaching for something in the bedside drawer.
You're a light sleeper, especially when you're by yourself. The only time you really fall into deep sleep is when Jaehyun's with you. That's why when you hear some ruckus from Jaehyun's side, you wake up from your slumber
"Jae? You're home?" you mumble, your eyes still closed
"Did I wake you? Sorry, baby. Go back to sleep, I'm here" he whispers. He pulls you towards him, resting your head on his chest. You cuddle him more, making yourself comfortable again.
You listen to his heartbeat to lull yourself back to sleep when you feel him take your hand that was resting on him, he puts something on you before you feel his lips kiss your knuckles.
"What are you doing?" you mumble, opening one eye to peak at your hand only to see a ring that definitely wasn't there before you slept.
You open both eyes this time, sitting up to look at it then at Jaehyun
"Explain" you tell him, gesturing at your hand
"It's a promise ring, remember you used to wear one before we started dating. It took sometime but I finally replaced that one, I didn't want to freak you out on our first anniversary so I waited until now" he explains
"Is this real or am I dreaming?" you ask him
Jaehyun chuckles before sitting up, now face to face with you. He takes your cheeks in his hands before pulling you towards him for a kiss
"This is very very real, my love"
"It's so pretty" you pout at the ring, a simple band with a diamond on it. Like a leveled up version of the one you used to wear
"I'm glad you like it even though I kinda ruined the surprise" he tells you
"I thought it was an engagement ring, not gonna lie"
He kisses you one more time before he pulls you down, settling you on his chest once again. "We'll get there one day. This time I'll make sure it's a surprise"
"But I am surprised, I love this surprise"
"And I love you, that ring is a promise to keep my promise of forever with you. One day we'll get there, one day I'll watch you walk down the aisle to me" he mumbles against your forehead, sealing it with a kiss after
"I'd love that, and I love you too"
"Let's go to sleep now, dream of me okay?"
#fic#nct#fanfic#jaehyun#nct jaehyun#nct imagine#nct fluff#nct au#nct reads#nct scenario#nct oneshot#jaehyun imagine#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun imagines#nct 127#jaehyun scenario
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