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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

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Theodore Nott. | be my first.

PAIRING: Theodore Nott x Reader

PROMPT: “PLEASE please do a Theodore nott x fem!reader virgin!!”

WORD COUNT: 5.5k.

TAGS: 18+, Mentions of Slight Violence, Depictions of Blood, SMUT, Fingering, Bestfriends to Lovers Trope (my personal fav), Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Slow Sex, Soft!Theo, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk.

"I don't know, Pans, wouldn't that be weird?"

Pansy's laughter echoed in a melodious giggle, the rhythm of her steps creating a soft shuffle across the expanse of your shared dorm. With effortless grace, she descended onto your bed, settling in with a languid poise. Laying on her side, her head found a comfortable perch on her bent arm.

"Why would it be weird?" Her grin, radiant and infectious, painted a mischievous allure across her features. "He's your lifelong best friend. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you-"

"Absolutely not," you interjected, employing a dramatic flourish with your hands for emphasis. "He is not."

Pansy cast a sidelong glance your way. "He so is."

"He's not!" Your grin persisted as you fired back, "if he was, he wouldn't be regaling me with tales of the girls he's shagging every bloody weekend."

Pansy, after a moment of silent contemplation, arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps he's just doing that to make you jealous. Ever think of that?"

You released a sigh, your body surrendering to the bed's embrace as you slumped backwards. The gentle thud of your head meeting the pillows echoed the weight of your contemplations, and memories from the past few weeks intruded your mind--acknowledging the nuanced shifts in Theodore's behaviour, particularly since that one unforgettable common room party.

As the realization took root, you abruptly sat up, the intensity of the revelation reflected in your eyes as they locked onto Pansy's gaze. "Pans...he's been acting distinctly different lately."

Pansy blinked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're just noticing?"

"No, I mean," your thoughts scattered like confetti, your heart pulsating with the weight of the revelation. You realized you hadn't told her. "Ever since that party, the one last Friday in the common room...where we, um...we kissed."

Pansy's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her jaw dropping in a dramatic display of shock. With a swift, purposeful motion, she sat up, aligning her gaze with yours, the unfiltered surprise etched vividly across her face.

"What the hell!" Her exclamation rang with feigned outrage. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Your expression contorted into a frown as you extended a gentle hand, resting it on Pansy's shoulder. "I'm sorry...we both agreed it was a stupid mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone. We knew you guys would relentlessly hound us about it...I just...I just couldn't risk it..."

Pansy took a measured moment to process your words, her eyes narrowing slightly. She ran a hand through her raven-black hair, the gears turning behind her eyes, thoughts churning with an amused yet contemplative air as she processed your confession.

With an entertained huff, she locked eyes with you. "I can't believe that little weasel kept his mouth shut for all that time. Guess he really can keep a secret."

An assertive snort escaped you, relief from her reaction igniting your features. "Probably just doesn't want me to hate him, considering we're bound to cross paths at every family gathering. Our families are so tightly knit..."

Pansy reclined with a subtle smirk gracing her lips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Her fingers traced an intricate, invisible pattern on your emerald green bedspread, their movements betraying a simmering excitement.

Meeting your gaze with unwavering confidence, she responded, "yet another advantage for you, and another compelling reason to go for it."

You shifted, your posture a nuanced blend of contemplation and uncertainty. Your fingers delicately toyed with the hem of your shirt, a nervous energy manifesting in the subtle dance of fabric against your skin.

In the pregnant pause that followed, you countered, "I just...I just can't envision a scenario where asking my best friend to take my virginity works out in my favour."

"I can't see a world where it doesn't," Pansy replied with a softness that hinted at the weight of her conviction. Sitting up again, she met your eyeline, the motion accompanied by a deliberate brush of loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Her gaze held a depth of understanding as she continued, "You guys clearly love each other, given you've known each other forever. He's always Mr. Funny Guy with you, perpetually super flirty and protective...I genuinely believe he'd be happy to oblige."

Absorbing Pansy's counsel with a thoughtful nod, you murmured a grateful, "I'll think about it."

Rising in unison, the two of you traversed to your respective wardrobes, swapping the gravity of the previous discourse for the ease of more casual attire. Satisfied with your choices, you exited the dorm, descending toward the common room. The soft glow of dimmed sconces on stone walls cast an intimate ambiance, while a low hum of hushed conversations and sporadic laughter created a comforting background symphony.

As you stepped into the common room, an immediate sense of unease gripped you. Your attention honed in on the far corner, where a palpable commotion unfolded. Brows furrowing with concern, your gaze fixated on a group of clustered bodies--Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all converged around someone.

Instinctively, you made your way over, Pansy following closely behind. As you approached the charged scene, you reached out, placing a steadying hand on Mattheo's arm in an attempt to capture his attention. The air buzzed with tension as you sought to understand the cause of the brewing conflict.

"Matt, what's happening?" you inquired, peering past him to catch sight of a bloodied Malfoy standing at the center of the circle. "Did you do this?"

"No, it was Nott," he retorted, his dark eyes meeting yours as he ran a hand through his dishelved curly hair. "They had a little disagreement--nothing too crazy."

Your gaze swept around the circle, capturing the aftermath of the disagreement. Malfoy wiped the blood from his chin on the back of his hand, keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Meeting everyone's eyes, your search finally settled on Theo, his nose bleeding and a minor cut marring his chin.

A heavy sigh escaped you, the weariness evident in your tone. "Do your petty disagreements always have to escalate into a damn bloodbath?"

Mattheo nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "When they involve Nott...pretty much, yeah."

With an exasperated scoff, you distanced yourself from him, striding purposefully toward Theo. The cerulean depth of his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a battered hand running through his tousled hair as he shook his head in a frustrated scowl.

"What happened?" you inquired, genuine concern lacing your voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Theo's jaw clenched, his stormy gaze shifting from your face to fixate on something over your shoulder. "Sorry prat had it coming."

His eyes locked onto Draco, who was now being tended to by Pansy, the lingering fury evident in the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his gaze. Theo was not merely angry; he was simmering with a profound frustration that permeated the air around him. Sensing his reluctance to share details, you delicately grasped his arm, lowering your voice into a soothing whisper.

"Come on, Theo," you murmured, your tone gentle and calming. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

With a reluctant nod, he cast one last glance over your shoulder before allowing you to guide him out of the common room and back down the dormitory hall. Upon reaching his dorm, he unlocked the door with a brief motion, and you stepped in first.

Navigating the familiar space, you headed straight to his bathroom, grabbing a wet cloth and some ointment. As he took a seat on his bed, the routine unfolded seamlessly--a ritual born out of many similar occasions. Cleaning up your best friend was a well-practiced chore, a testament to his quick temper and penchant for confrontation. It was second nature to you, an unspoken agreement that you'd always be there for him in these moments.

Emerging from the bathroom, you noticed Theo had already cast a silencing and muffling spell over the room. A waft of smoke hung in the air as he lit up a cigarette, his darkened gaze keenly tracking your every movement as you approached.

You came to a halt in front of him, and he widened his stance, creating a space for you to nestle between his legs. Seated on his bed while you stood, the two of you aligned perfectly at eye level. A surge pulsed through you as you observed his plush lips sealing around the cigarette, his long fingers delicately holding it to his mouth. After a quick ashing on his nightstand, he granted you the space to tend to him.

Raising the cloth to his chin, you softly dabbed over the cut, your gaze fixed on the subtle flutter of his long lashes--like delicate wings of a butterfly. A scowl etched his features, and your hands trembled inexplicably, watching his brows furrow, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. His own hands rested on his knees on either side of your hips, fingers twitching from the sting of your movements.

In a bid to alleviate some of his discomfort, your voice echoed as a delicate murmur. "Do you remember the first time I did this?"

"How could I forget?" He met your gaze, his stormy eyes flickering as his lips teased a subtle smirk. "My personal saviour, always cleaning up my messes."

Pleased with the condition of the cut, you glided the cloth along the sharp ridge of his jawline, meticulous in collecting every trace of dried blood. Progressing to his nose, you repeated the careful process--his eyes remained fixed on your face, observing each subtle movement as you concentrated on restoring his appearance, gently swiping over his lips last.

Grinning at his words, you locked eyes with him. "You're right...I've been quite the skilled nurse, haven't I?"

He chuckled, a deep sound resonating through his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "The best damn nurse I've ever had."

You laughed, a warmth dancing across your skin as you pulled the cloth from his face.

"Now that's a compliment, considering you've been in the hospital wing a lot of damn times," you quipped, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I should be getting compensation for my efforts."

"Compensation?" He grinned, the playful glint in his blue eyes unmistakable. "How about I owe you a pack of cigarettes and a promise to keep the brawls to a minimum?"

Smirking, you couldn't hide the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Please, you and I both know your promises mean very little, Nott." As you stepped back, you added, "but I'll take the cigarettes."

Before you could get very far, Theo's large hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, halting your movements as well as the breath in your lungs. Your gaze riveted to the hand, the touch sending a shiver through your skin, before slowly moving back up to meet Theo's eyes. Within their depths churned something profound, a silent intensity that stopped your heart in your chest.

"You want to know why I fought him?" he said, his voice so deep it was almost imperceptible. "Malfoy."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you waited for him to elaborate. "Sure."

Theo's grip tightened on your wrist, his jaw tensing as his eyes drilled into yours. "He said that if he wasn't with Pansy, he'd have gotten with you a long time ago," he confessed, the words carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "He claimed your hard-to-get facade is all an act...that you're really a little slut..."

Your eyes widened at Theo's revelation, a mixture of surprise and disbelief sweeping across your features. Your pulse quickened, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of the situation.

"He said that?" you muttered, the weight of Malfoy's words sinking in. Theo's grip on your wrist loosened, and a subtle vulnerability flickered in his eyes as his hand slid lower, fingers finding yours.

"I don't care what he thinks, but hearing him talk about you like that...I couldn't let it slide," he admitted, his voice softer now, revealing the protective undertone that fueled his actions. "He doesn't know..."

"...that I'm a virgin," you said, finishing his sentence with a hushed admission.

Theo's expression softened as he nodded, and his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want anyone disrespecting you like that, especially not him," he said, a mixture of concern and sincerity in his gaze. "You're a fucking angel, he doesn't deserve to even think about you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, warmth spreading through you at his words. Your gaze locked in with his, his eyes momentarily dropping to your lips, yours doing the same. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken emotions as Theo’s declaration lingered. His protective stance and words resonated deeply, and you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of his sentiments.

Silent acknowledgment settled within you, a quiet admission that the dynamics between you and Theo had shifted. The boy who had once been your childhood best friend was now a source of desire and an unexpected depth of affection. Over the years, his presence had woven into the fabric of your heart, evolving into a sentiment that transcended mere friendship.

"Thank you, Theo..." you murmured, involuntarily leaning closer. "Thank you for-"

Before you could finish the sentence, Theo's hands shifted with intent, cradling the sides of your face as he drew your lips to his. The hunger in his mouth was palpable, a dance of devotion and purpose, his tongue delving past your teeth without a moment's hesitation.

Your lids fluttered shut, your brain caught off guard, taking a seemingly eternal five seconds to gather itself from the molten state it found itself in, the realization dawning that you weren't merely passively enjoying this kiss--you were actively engaging, meeting his fervour with equal intensity.

Your hands instinctively sought his messy hazelnut strands, fingers threading through them as you pressed against him, the world beyond the kiss momentarily forgotten in the heated exchange. As the kiss progressed, your mind struggled to fathom the reality of locking lips with your best friend--a completely sober, unrestrained exchange with no intentions of stopping.

And then, before you could process it, large hands enveloped your lower thighs, drawing you closer as Theo reclined onto his plush green duvet, the soft fabric embracing his back with a gentle touch. Your hands landed involuntarily with a deliberate force on his chest, seeking stability as you shifted to straddle his waist.

The kiss intensified, one of his hands securing the back of your head, while the other boldly explored the curve of your hip, his pelvis pressing against yours, his erection evident even between your layers of clothing.

A low, involuntary moan escaped your lips as his undeniable hardness pressed against you, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. It kindled a fervent desire within you, a flame only he could stoke. Your hands transitioned from his chest and back into the tousled richness of his hair, fingers entwining in the silky strands. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you caught your breath, panting softly as you gazed down at him through eyes clouded with lust.

Theo's lips curled into a knowing smirk, evident satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the effect he had on you. His hands traversed the landscape of your back, drawing you back down to him. Your bodies melded together, the heat rising between you palpable. You instinctively moved your hips against his crotch, craving more of the intoxicating friction that left your senses spinning, and a low groan escaped him, his hands guiding your hips back and forth.

"What are we doing..." Theo whispered, his voice a breathy murmur, his head falling back, and his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of quiet contemplation. "I told myself I wouldn't do this with you again."

Your heart hammered in your throat, your fingers trembling as his hands grazed the curve of your ass. In a mere pant, you breathed, "do what?"

His fingers traced a slow path to the back of your head, gently guiding your lips back to his.

The heat between you intensified as he whispered, "this," against your mouth, his soft breath sparking heat in your veins.

A low, desperate sound escaped your throat, a mixture of a mewl and a moan, as the fire in your core reached an almost unbearable intensity. Theo groaned in response, his grip on your hips tightening, and with a swift motion, he flipped the two of you around, placing you on your back beneath him. His hips pressed into yours with a force that felt like an attempt to fuse you with his mattress, his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him.

"Theo," you murmured against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair in a desperate attempt to part his mouth from yours, yearning for a breath of air. "Theo...”

Refusing to break the kiss, Theo groaned into your mouth, his hand cradling the side of your head, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a feather-light touch. He rocked his hips against you, both teetering on the brink of losing yourselves entirely. The restrained passion and tension accumulated from years of friendship were on the verge of breaking free.

Finally, in a gasp of air, Theo pulled back, both of your chests heaving, your lungs reaching for oxygen in desperation. His blue eyes dipped over your face, lingering for a moment before trailing lower. With a regretful realization, he shifted back onto his knees, putting a disappointing amount of space between your bodies, as if just coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.

"Fuck," he murmured, running an unsteady hand through his hair. "I...I'm sorry-"

"Theo...I want you," you cut him off, the desperation evident in your voice as you expressed your desire for him. "Please..."

Theo's eyes flickered, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You..."

"Yes," you whispered, a subtle flush colouring your cheeks as you pushed aside any embarrassment. "I want you to be my first, Theo."

Theo leaned back down, his hand gently cupping your chin as he directed your eyes to meet his intense gaze, his fingers digging into your skin only slightly.

"Are you fucking serious?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Don't play with me, principessa..."

"Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" you replied, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Of course, I'm serious."

Theo's countenance softened with a tender gaze as he scrutinized your face, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty. Discovering none, he leaned in, planting a delicate kiss against your lips. His hand gracefully transitioned from your chin, weaving into your hair with a gentle, reassuring touch.

"You don't know how fucking long I've wanted you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his desire. "But I don't want to fucking hurt you...I don't know if I'll be able to control myself..."

Your fingers gently traced the contours of his face as you held his gaze. "Theo, we've known each other for so long, there's no one I trust more than you...I know you'll be gentle with me..."

Theo's gaze softened further at your words, and he leaned in for another kiss. His hand embarked on a slow journey from the strands of your hair, delicately tracing the curves of your body until it found the waistband of your sweats, teasingly playing with it.

"Gonna' need to ease you into it, principessa," he whispered against your lips, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Let me know if it's too much, alright?"

As you nodded, your hands migrated from his shoulders to entwine in his hair. His hand daringly slipped beneath the cotton fabric, and a gasp involuntarily escaped your lips as he skillfully explored the warmth between your thighs with his fingers. Simultaneously, his lips traced a tantalizing path down past your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Mm, you're already so fucking wet for me..." he nipped your neck and you squealed, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair. "Gonna' fill you up so good...stretch you out just for me..."

Pleasure rippled through your thighs, your heartbeat thumping in your core. "Theo..."

"Mhmm," he breathed as he trailed lower, mouth grazing over your collarbone, long fingers teasing over your clit, coating himself in your slick. "Fuck, I've wanted to hear you moan my name like that for years...you've completely fucking tortured me, bella..."

You gasped as he teased your clit again, fervent fingers digging into his scalp. "You-you never made a move-"

Theo groaned against your skin, his free hand sliding up to pull your shirt along your stomach, and then skillfully tugging on your bra, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. His lips parted, and a deep lust filled his eyes as he immediately cupped one breast in his palm, skillfully flicking a stiffening nipple between his fingers.

"Fuck me," he muttered before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, skillfully twirling his tongue around the bud. "I didn't want to complicate our friendship, bella mia...I didn't want to risk losing you..."

Theo's mouth moved to your other nipple, and he deftly took it between his lips, suckling on it before tracing circles around it with his tongue. You moaned, feeling your body respond to his touch, your hips jerking involuntarily as he pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His thumb resumed its motions on your clit, coaxing sounds of desire from deep within you.

Heat scorched your blood. "F-fuck, Theo..."

"Is this okay?" he muttered, pulling back slightly to examine your face. "You're so fucking tight."

You nodded, incapable of forming a coherent thought as your body's reaction was immediate, every fiber of your being inundated by intense, mind-numbing pleasure. Theo groaned as he brought his lips back to your nipple, skillfully pulling it into his mouth. Your entire body quivered beneath him, unable to comprehend how rapidly your impending orgasm was overwhelming you.

"Oh, Gods, Theo..." you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold in his hair like you were trying to pry it from his scalp. "Oh, fuck-"

Theo heightened his rhythm, skillfully adding another finger inside you as he fervently zeroed in on your sensitive nub with vigorous strokes. Your vocabulary dissolved into a symphony of flailing wails and moans, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as he sensually flicked his tongue over one nipple before seamlessly transitioning to the other.

"That's right, darling..." he cooed against your chest, his voice torn and barely restrained, a low rasp that sent a thrill up your spine. "Let go for me...I've got you..."

His words alone ignited a blaze of warmth across your skin, and as much as you desired to resist, to not succumb so swiftly, it was inevitable and overwhelming, your orgasm slamming into you like a powerful shot to the gut.

"Shit-Theo!" Your jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back. "I'm-i'm-"

Your vision whitened as you broke, every nerve in your body pulsating with ecstasy. It was a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake. Theo's movements never faltered, his touch relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form.

"That's it--fuck--so perfect..." he breathed, rubbing you through the remnants of your aftershocks. "Such a good fucking girl...did that feel good?"

You nodded, still gasping for breath as you tried to compose yourself. "Yes," you said, feeling a flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. "It felt amazing."

"Yeah?" Theo whispered, his hand withdrawing as he shifted to press his lips softly against yours. "You like cumming for your best friend, huh? Enjoy making a mess all over my fingers?"

You released a throaty groan against his demanding mouth as his skilled hands effortlessly peeled down your sweatpants and panties, revealing the goosebumped flush of your skin. His shirt swiftly joined the discarded clothes, exposing the sculpted lines of his torso. Unrelenting, his eyes remained fixed on yours as he leaned back to undo his belt with a controlled urgency.

Once successful, he leaned back over you and a large hand cupped your jaw, his voice a low, commanding murmur.

"I didn't hear an answer," he stated, the timbre of his words sending shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I need to make you cum again?"

You huffed, a subtle squirm beneath him accentuating the anticipation, his free hand teasing the tender skin of your inner thigh. "Theodore..."

"Would you like that?" he muttered, his lips drawing nearer, the grip on your jaw tightening. "You want me to make you cum all over my bedsheets again, hm?"

His fingers caressed over your heat, teasing your folds, and you arched against his touch, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. You could sense he was attempting to buy himself time, to talk himself down from his excitement. His restraint hung by a thread, self-control wavered under the sight of you withering beneath him.

Swallowing hard, your throat felt drier than the desert as you met his gaze with pleading eyes. "Please, Theo," you whimpered, "stop teasing."

"Fuck--so eager for me, yeah?" he purred, releasing your jaw to slide his boxers down his thighs, pulling free his thick, long cock. "Let's see if we can sate this pretty little pussy."

Your breath fled from your lungs, your jaw practically dropping to the floor. He was massive, even in his own big hand, even as he pumped himself, sliding his fist back and forth over his length as his eyes burned wounds into the flesh of your tits. You whined, your core clenching and screaming with need, drool threatening to pour down the sides of your lips as your desperate eyes shifted between his eyes and his dick.

"Fucking hell, Theo..." your brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, and those words were the only ones that managed to slip past your lips. "You never mentioned...so massive..."

He huffed, and you knew he was watching you--his irises igniting in flames, a tiny smirk teasing his lips as you watched him stroke himself faster, harder.

"I didn't want to intimidate you before you got to experience how good it can be," he murmured, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm well aware of your disdain for men with oversized egos."

Your breath caught in your throat as your brain struggled to process the revelation. Losing your virginity to your lifelong best friend, who knew you better than you knew yourself, and who had purposely kept the extent of his endowment a secret, fearing it might scare you off. The boundary between reality and dream blurred, leaving you in a surreal haze of disbelief.

"Just shut up and show me," you finally managed to whisper, your desire overcoming any reservations. "Show me how good it can be."

"Easy, principessa, don't get greedy now," he murmured, his hands firmly grasping your thighs to pull you closer. "You're not ready for everything I have to offer just yet."

Theo leaned back over you, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck and over your collarbone--forearm framing your face, other hand gripping his cock, angling the glistening tip toward your throbbing entrance, teasing you briefly with a few false thrusts, slicking his length in your wetness.

"Are you ready?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "To feel me inside of you, filling you up?"

Your voice barely more than a breath, you nodded in response, averting your gaze to the ceiling. "Please."

Theo huffed, pulling his face from your neck, long fingers directing your gaze to meet his eyes.

"Look at me, bella..." he looped an arm under your neck, long fingers holding you in place. "I want you to look into my eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."

Your lips parted in awe, speechless and utterly intoxicated. Doing as he said, you held his gaze, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the ocean waves of his eyes. Theo groaned, his own breath shallow as he pressed the head of his dick into you, pushing you apart, and you whimpered, clenching before he even entered you. You were quaking--and he hissed through his teeth before he'd fully sank into you, letting loose a low, deep groan as your wet cunt swallowed his cock.

"Shh," he purred, glimpsing your lips. "Just a little bit more..."

Pleasure and pain erupted through your bloodstream as he stretched you wide, a sharp cry leaving your throat as he pushed deeper and deeper, stroking into your heat with the pace of a snail, inch by agonizing inch--pausing once he'd sunk in to the base. You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, and you were breathless, unable to fathom how big he was, how full he made you feel.

"Fucking hell, are you okay?" he muttered almost under his breath, his voice cracking with concern as he looked into your eyes, his blue gaze searching for any sign of distress. When you merely nodded, the desperation in his expressions intensified. "Please, talk to me...keep me grounded..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. "And what do you mean, 'keep you grounded'?"

Theo sighed heavily, emitting a low groan, his breath catching in his lungs as he withdrew slightly before smoothly gliding back into you. You whimpered, still holding his gaze, lips parted in unbelievable bliss. His hand cradled your head, staring at you with gleaming eyes as he found his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full.

"I-I, fuck," he grunted through gritted teeth as he stared down at you. "You're so tight, so fucking wet...I can barely control myself..."

He lowered himself, ensnaring your lips in a profound, fervent kiss while maintaining a deliberate pace within you. Each rhythmic thrust unleashed renewed waves of ecstasy, prompting unrestrained moans from your chest and sending you writhing beneath him.

"You feel so good," he whispered as one of his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. "I can't believe how fucking tight you are. You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, my pretty little virgin."

Your nails clawed at his back, your walls squeezing his thick length with every thrust. "Theo-harder, please..."

"Yeah? You want more, pretty girl?" he whispered, warm breath enveloping your ear. "Such a needy little pussy..."

You gasped, nodding as his lips attacked your neck. "Please, please-"

"Anything for you," he responded, his voice torn, each syllable saturated with longing. "Filthy little--fuck,"

He surged into heightened motion, the force of his hips colliding with yours intensifying upon your command. A sharp cry escaped you when he skillfully found that responsive spot within you, immediately unleashing a cascade of pleasure that surged through your body like electric currents. The intensity reached a near-overwhelming point, a delicate dance between ecstasy and a hint of exquisite pain, causing unbridled moans to spill from your lips uncontrollably.

"Mm," he grunted, a near growl in your ear. "Pretty pussy taking me so well,"

His paced increased again, slamming into your cervix with every thrust. His fingers resumed their work on your clit, yanking you toward your climax, your body being whiplashed with pleasure. You bit down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams as your pussy squeezed him harder, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his cock slamming into you, his fingers battering your nub.

"Theo--w-wait," your words stumbled amidst waves of pleasure, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding onslaught. "Theo, please-I can't, I-it's too much...”

"Come on baby, I know you're close," his voice, raspy and unbridled, revealed the shattering of his self-control. He relentlessly pounded into you, beads of sweat adhering his hair to a glistening forehead. "I felt you squeezing me--fuck--you can take it..."

You gasped for breath, a desperate symphony echoing your lungs' protest as your teeth found refuge in his skin. Fingers, possessed by an almost primal force, clawed into his back, leaving an indelible mark. Theo's movements, unyielding and masterful, propelled you inexorably towards the precipice of climax, each sensation more vivid than the last.

"Theo-" you practically screamed, your body buzzing in anticipation. "I'm gonna' cum, Theo-fuck-"

"Let me hear you," he said, voice shredded raw. "I want to hear you scream for me...I want to hear you moaning my name as this tight little cunt breaks for me..."

"Oh, fuck.." you moaned, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Theo...oh Gods, fuck..."

You shattered, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. Your eyes rolled back, vision going blank as squeals and screeches left your lips in nothing more than mumbling nonsense.

Theo groaned, bliss numbing your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, gripping you tighter until he too exploded, breath sputtering as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture.

In the aftermath, an extended silence enveloped the room--long after the cadence of your breaths normalized, long after the faculties of your minds fully reassembled. Theo finally stirred, rolling off you to settle on the mattress, where he promptly drew you into the sanctuary of his embrace.

"Can we acknowledge our feelings already?" Theo teased, fingers delicately brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll fight you if we go back to just being friends after all of that.”

You huffed, on the precipice of unrestrained laughter. "Only if you go first."

As you shifted to lock eyes with him, a smirk adorned his face, that mischievous grin unfurling across his impeccably plush lips. "Fine…I'm fucking in love with you."

Your own smirk surfaced, a surge of warmth coursing through you as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "I'm in love with you too, you dork."

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some-bunniii · 3 months

Text

My Charming Red Savior [4]

・❥ A friend revealed, and warm feelings.

x: pronouns are she/her. no use of y/n.

xx: decided to change the saving fem!reader to its AO3 title, so all parts of this fic have been updated for this change as well!

~6.8k words

warnings: depictions of blood/injury

“Did I miss anything?”

Those were the first words the King of Hell had spoken atop the large patio, as you stood in awe, battered, with dust and debris sticking to your body. You blinked, frozen in place as your eyes scanned over the pearlescent man’s figure, who grinned charmingly across from you.

He leaned lazily against the gold railing, now partially destroyed from the small explosions that had peppered the front of the hotel. The screams and snarls from below were all but silenced now, except for one or two stragglers who could be seen making a run for it in the distance. But, not before a large, swamp-green tentacle snaked around them, and began beating them into the ground. It wasn’t long before your gaze was back on Lucifer, a million thoughts racing through your head.

It wasn’t until Lucifer’s smile faltered slightly at your silent staring, did he clear his throat, nervously tapping against the apple-tipped cane in his grip. “You look a little shaken up, are you doing good over there?”

You were about to open your mouth to speak, until your eyes darted to another small, cylindrical object flying right towards Lucifer. You recoiled, throwing your hands in front of your face as it closed in on the fallen angel.

“Watch out!” You cried to him, squeezing your eyes shut as you waited for the familiar boom of the grenade to shake the patio. Lucifer whipped his head around, eyebrows raised as the grenade soared towards him. Lifting his arm, he caught it in his hand before it could hit him in the face, before raising it to get a closer look.

You splayed your fingers, peeking through the small gap when you realized once more that your heart was still beating. Raising an eyebrow, your face contorted into surprise as your gaze rested on the object in Lucifer’s hand.

The bomb ticked quietly in his palm, slowly increasing in speed as the seconds went by. It vibrated in his grip, and Lucifer only inspected it casually, rolling it between his fingers with interest.

Was he just going to hold it until it exploded? You watched silently with wide eyes, unsure of what exactly was going to happen. If it went off, would the King of Hell even have a scratch on him? Maybe, that was why he seemed so confident holding a bomb in his hands. Watching Lucifer catch it casually in the air a few times only cemented that thought.

The perks of being immortal, you supposed.

“Hm, seems they got the timing off on this one,” Lucifer observed, just as the ticking seemed to increase to every millisecond. Right when you were sure it was about to go off in his palms, Lucifer’s fingers curled around it. It looked like he was squeezing the cylinder like a balloon, as the black, metal surface contorted, shifting from the pressure.

Instead of lighting into a ball of flame, the bomb exploded in a burst of multi-colored confetti. Which sprayed across the patio, a few stray pieces landing on your face as they settled onto the floor. You were silent, in awe at the magical display. Lucifer only grinned at you, a silent boast of his powers as he caught you gawking. He adjusted his collar, still leaning against the railing as he brushed some confetti from his shoulder pads.

Realizing he had noticed your staring, your cheeks began to heat in embarrassment. You lay your eyes for the first time on the most powerful man in Hell and all you can do is stand there and look dumb, get it together! Leaning forward, your head practically hits the cracked tile flooring as you bow.

“Your Majesty, I apologize for my rudeness!” You quickly pipe up, your eyes still locked to the floor as you keep your head down, “Thank you for saving my life, I don’t know if I’d be alive without your intervention.”

“It was no biggie.” Lucifer shrugged, waving his hand in the air in a sweeping motion, as he brushed off your compliment. He lifted himself from the railing, taking a few steps forward as he began to cross the patio. “Can’t have my daughter’s friends be attacked by a couple of low-life thugs.. again! What kind of a father would that make me?”

You straightened, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your brows furrowed as the words left his lips, mouth opening slightly as if you were about to question him on his statement.

‘Daughter’. Was he talking about Charlie? Of course, he must be, she looked like a carbon copy of him! But, that would mean… it wasn't an imp that had approached you yesterday morning during your shift. At least, not any normal imp. Does that mean you had been talking to…?

It was in the same instance that Lucifer leaned in closer to you, his eyes squinted in thought as he inspected your face. He placed a finger on his chin in thought, as he regarded you with a curious expression through those soft, yellow eyes of his.

“Wait a second… do I know you from somewhere?” He questioned finally, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. You smiled as you thought of a response, your hands rubbing together in a soothing motion. Lucifer’s eyes lit up in recognition before you could say anything, and he snapped his finger as connected the dots.

“That's right! You were that sweet worker at the formalwear store yesterday, weren’t you? The one that opened early for me!” He beamed, taking another step closer as your eyes widened at the proximity.

“Y-yes, that was me, Your Majesty.” You stammered out, cursing yourself so being so godamn nervous. “Except, I wasn’t really aware that you were... well, you?”

“Oh, heh, yeah, my impish disguise. Pretty good, eh?”

Yeah, it was. There wasn’t anything that would have made you guess that imp was actually Lucifer, at least before you had met the man. Except, for the height. That hadn’t seemed to change between the two appearances, as you still had to lower your head to meet his gaze even now.

You took a deep breath, calming your jittering nerves as you again realized who was standing right in front of you. Never once did you think a lowly citizen of Hell like you would be this close to the Lucifer Morningstar! Should you have kneeled instead when you greeted him? What was the proper etiquette for this kind of thing? Alastor would have surely known.

That thought made you lean over slightly to get a peek past the fallen angel’s brimmed hat. Your eyes followed the slender, shadowy forms of tentacles snaking around the last two criminals, who were trying to shoot the large masses.

“Aren’t you, um, going to go help..?” You pointed behind him, and Lucifer turned to follow your finger just as another thug was flung past the large fence that surrounded the hotel. Their squeal of fear faded as they disappeared from view. Static-laced laughter filled the air as the tentacles began to dissipate.

“Nah, I think your… friend down there has it covered.” Lucifer shrugged after a moment, turning back to face you.

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm your jittering nerves. Between last night and this, you were about ready to lay in your bed and hibernate for the next three months. Life was exhausting, it seemed.

“Well, that was fun!” Lucifer smiled, nodding along as he clasped his hands together. “Didn’t think I’d find drug dealers trying to knock down the walls, though. Looks like I really have to up the security around here.”

You nodded along half-heartedly, and watched as he strolled past you towards the door. He only made it a few steps before he halted, and you jumped slightly as he pivoted to face you. He waggled a finger at you, mock suspicion in his gaze as he leaned in. Now that you could get a better look at him,

“I also was not expecting to find you here, either. Only yesterday, it seemed like you had no idea the hotel even existed. Now, I find you in the raging path of a feral tea table. An odd turn of events, don't you think?”

You smiled, heat creeping onto your cheeks in embarrassment. You probably looked pretty pathetic when Lucifer was saving you, curled in a ball while you accepted your grim fate. You wished you had some kind of badass demon magic, so you didn’t have to be so helpless. Did Alastor ever feel helpless? No, probably not, he seemed so confident in every situation you saw him face.

The way he strolled down the stairs so casually when the thugs had first attacked, made it seem like he had done that kind of thing many times before. But, it seemed like that was true, since you patched up one scuffle on his coat, and were told of his encounter with Sir. Pentious–which you simply couldn't believe would attempt such a thing, now that you’ve met him–a few months prior.

You wondered what made him and Lucifer struggle to get along, had something happened in the past between them? Maybe, you could get Alastor to budge with that with a little prodding. For now, you were unsure of what to tell the King. How would he react if you said the only reason you were here was because of Alastor? You didn’t want to lose the friendliness you had with Lucifer, it probably wouldn't be fun to be on the King of Hell’s bad side.

Plus, it seemed like Lucifer liked you. Did that have something to do with the fact that he claimed you were a ‘rare gem’ when it came to being a nice person in Hell? He did give you all that money.. which you lost. Maybe, he’d give you some more if you played your cards right.

And, if it was as friends, you wouldn’t mind getting closer to the fallen angel. He was just so funny and charming, you couldn’t imagine the kind of gossip he had to share, and you wouldn't be bothered if he shared it with you.

“Oh, well, beeeecause I was interested in redemption! Ha-ha, yeah. When we talked earlier, your words just struck something in me! So, I took a tour and stayed the night.”

“Really? I inspired you to come to the hotel?” Lucifer asked incredulously, tilting his head thoughtfully at you. He raised an eyebrow, doubt written across his features.

“That’s right! I mean, you even gave me a bunch of money like it was no big deal. That was very kind of you!” You nodded enthusiastically. That wasn’t exactly a lie, since the conversation with Lucifer yesterday did lead to Alastor revealing more about the hotel, which in turn piqued your interest enough to even consider staying for an extended period.

Slowly, Lucifer's eyes lit at your response, a gleam of happiness that you hadn’t noticed before. He seemed to be standing a little straighter too, as if that was some kind of confidence boost for him. Did Lucifer not… genuinely help people often? Was it something he wished he could do more often?

Seems like ruling a realm full of demons that continually commit the worst atrocities known to mankind would break an angel’s will to want to make a change.

“I wanted to thank you again for your generosity,” you started, your tone genuine as the glint in Lucifer’s eyes only seemed to grow, “All that money you gave me would have really helped,

“Would? What happened?” Lucifer inquired, tilting his head curiously.

“Some guy mugged me,” you stated bluntly, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. It felt weird telling people about your most vulnerable moments. You found no enjoyment in retelling any of these scary events, and hopefully, your bad luck would end soon.

“And they stole everything from you?”

“Yeah…”

Lucifer huffed in annoyance, his teeth baring slightly as he exhaled a hot breath. He couldn’t exactly be surprised, it was Hell. Not to mention, the guy has been neglecting his kingly duties for a while now and has only just started going to meetings for crying out loud.

“Jeez, I’m sorry about that. Here, let me jus–”

“Where did that new girl go? What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” You could hear Vaggie’s voice from downstairs, as the gaping hole in the side of the hotel made it much easier to hear their conversations now.

You heard multiple inaudible responses to the question, before Vaggie’s rose above them with renewed anger.

“She’s still up there?! you’re telling me none of you numbskulls went to get her after that big explosion?”

“₩Ⱨ₳₮?!” You heard a snarl of static at Vaggie’s words.

Tensing, you kept your eyes trained on Lucifer as you strained your ears to eavesdrop on the voices below. It seemed like they were looking for you now, did they even know whether Charlie’s dad was here?

“Alastor, hold up!” You heard Angel Dust’s call from the bottom of the staircase, which made you pivot to face the closed doors not too far away. Lucifer, who was standing a few steps away from you, looked up curiously as the doors swung open.

Standing there, chest heaving slightly, ears twitching, was Alastor. His eyes instantly landed on you, before quickly scanning over your figure for injuries. Did he just leap up all those stairs? That wasn’t a very short distance by any means.

His arms were outstretched beside him, as he gripped both doors. Alastor’s claws slightly dug into its wood frame as he observed the smoking, half-burnt balcony with a tight-lipped smile. It wasn’t until his eyes met Lucifer’s–you swore you saw a flicker of surprise cross his gaze–that something seemed to flip like a switch inside the demon, and Alastor straightened instantly, his ears returning to their normal placement as corrected his posture.

A large, toothy grin appeared on his face, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze darted between you and Lucifer only a few feet apart. His eyelid twitched as Lucifer sent him a deadly grin behind you, the tension in the air thickening to the point where you felt like you’d suffocate even in this open space.

You only smiled brightly in return, sending Alastor a finger wave as you sidled a step away from the fallen angel beside you. Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to be having fun as he pivoted slightly to face you. A mischievous glint in his eye as he cocked his head at Alastor, a haughty look on his face.

“Can I help you?” He feigned irritation, an eyebrow quirked as he sent the demon a pointed glance. As if Alastor had just barged in on the two of you deep in discussion, souring the mood.

Alastor wasn’t able to get a word out when multiple footsteps echoed from behind him, noisily clopping up the long staircase as they bickered amongst themselves. A familiar pink spider popped his head over Alastor’s shoulder, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the pearlescent face beside you. More heads appeared around, their eyes scanning across the balcony as they observed the scene.

“Dad?” Charlie asked, squeezing through the clump of nosy demons, surprise written across her face as she passed Alastor.

“Honey!” Lucifer beamed, a smile gracing his features as he met his daughter halfway. Charlie extended her arms, ready to accept Lucifer’s large hug as he returned the gesture. He held her for a moment before he released her, backing up a step as the others pushed past Alastor’s figure to get a better place behind the princess.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at that art auction?” Charlie questioned, tilting her head at him.

“That ended last night.” Lucifer nodded, “Now it’s some kind of celebratory artist-only afterparty, which means even the King of Hell cannot attend, unfortunately. So, I thought I’d drop by. Good timing, it seemed, or else your friend here would not be standing here any longer.”

Lucifer turned to you, gesturing to the dust and debris hanging to your clothes, as you stood there silently with that same awkward smile.

“Oh, yeah. She’s interested in being a resident of our hotel, for redemption!” Charlie smiled excitedly, proud to be able to show her father that her dream was slowly expanding. You nodded along, your hands clasped together politely as they discussed you.

“Yes, I heard! We’ve been having a nice discussion these past few minutes, her and I. A real doll, this one is, just like when I met her previously.”

“You two... have met before?” Charlie finally asked, confusion laced in her voice as she looked between the two of you. The demons behind you shot curious glances in your direction, silently waiting for more juicy details.

“She was there when I bought your tuxedo! I was in disguise, though, so nobody saw me as.. well, me. She even opened up early for me, just out of the kindness of her soul!” Lucifer scooted beside you, nudging you in the arm playfully as he spoke. “Guess you could say I owed her a rescue after that considerate gesture.”

“Did you throw a party up here, too?” Vaggie piped up from the doorway, kicking away at a few stray pieces of the colorful confetti that was sprinkled across the floor. Charlie’s eyes were glinting as she processed her father’s words, before glancing down at the new red suit that she was wearing. She looked up at you with renewed interest, a blooming on her face.

“That was all His Majesty, actually,” you finally spoke, lifting a hand to your mouth as you giggled, “It was pretty impressive, to be honest, I’ve never seen a party trick like that before. I thought the confetti was kinda funny.”

You purposely avoided looking at Alastor as you spoke, so his reaction to your praise was a mystery. Lucifer only smiled proudly beside you, your words boosting his ego.

“Well, that’s not the only trick I’m good at,” Lucifer chuckled. Before he sent you a wink, then a playful smirk that he swept across the small crowd. Their eyes were locked on him, captivated with anticipation for the charming angel to display some of his magical talents.

Except, for Alastor, who only smiled widely, his eyes crinkled in annoyance at the theatrics. You didn’t pay him much mind, instead keeping your attention on Lucifer. During your time in Hell, you hadn’t come into contact with many figures that could harness demonic magic so effortlessly, apart from Alastor.

The King of Hell, however, was on a whole different level, he had pure angelic power. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you were not going to miss this for anything. However, it seemed your admiration was a little too evident, as you missed Alastor's squinted gaze analyzing your expression.

Lucifer finally rested his gaze on Alastor, who met his eyes, just as he tapped his cane against the ground, a flurry of golden sparks igniting from the touch. a vortex of golden eaves began to swirl around his cane, before flooding across the destroyed, cracked floor of the balcony. It was like a small ocean pooling at your feet, and it felt like the ground was shifting underneath you.

Sticking a finger gun towards the split table, Lucifer shot an explosion of magic against its surface, and it crackled with energy. Before you could blink, the two pieces slid together, attaching like Lego pieces back onto their legs. Fresh color adorned the wood, a lovely shade of peach with matching chairs. It settled onto the ground, with not even a scratch from the abuse it had just received.

He aimed a few more magical-loaded digits towards the broken railing, and the spilled flower pots, making pew pew sound effects with his mouth as he did so.

The balcony began to shift back into even better condition than it originally was, the broken scenery straightening itself back into form. Slowly, the golden waves against your ankles dispersed and were pulled back into Lucifer’s cane.

The large, white marble tile beneath your feet was perfectly sealed, not a single crack upon its surface as it sparkled with a newfound shine. You lifted your leg, surprised finding your figure to be completely dry.

The demons around you stood mesmerized by the display, their eyes glowing and lips puckered in a small o. Alastor only tapped his claws against his cane impatiently.

“How is that for a party trick?” Lucifer turned to you, sending you a charming grin.

You were about to open your mouth before Charlie appeared at your side with a happy squeak. Her blonde hair cascaded down your shoulder, the silky strands like feathers against your skin.

“Thank you for the help, Dad!” Charlie beamed, squeezing her cheeks as she stared lovingly at her father, “it’s so great to see you make new friends, too!”

“And, new clients!” Lucifer boasted, adjusting his bowtie with a grin “Last time we talked, I told her all about the hotel and what it offered. Seems like my salesmanship charm prevails once more.”

“How funny,” Alastor’s voice crackled with static as he strode up beside Charlie, planting himself into the small group’s discussion with a grin, “but it appears His Majesty is mistaken, for it was I who persuaded our darling belle here to take a chance at redemption.”

“Pfft! You? Please, you couldn’t even convince an angel to redeem themselves. At least, not with that haircut!” Lucifer laughed, and your mouth dropped open, your gaze flicking to Alastor, who seemed to hesitate for a moment in shock at the bold insult.

Your eyes darted to Charlie. She returned the look, before slapping a hand over her dad’s mouth.

“Okay, moving on!” She replied cheerfully, pinching her dad’s lips closed as she turned towards the staircase. Vaggie shot a glare toward the rest of the onlookers, who began to sadly shrink away.

“I’m afraid Your Majesty is uninformed!” Alastor ignored Charlie, as he walked closer to stand right beside you. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your heartbeat quickening at the realization you were directly in the middle of the two dueling forces.

“Of what?” Lucifer questioned.

“Why, of our association, of course,” Alastor said sweetly, grasping your arm gently as he gestured to your figure. Heat crept onto your cheeks, as you let him slide in closer to you.

“You two know each other?” Lucifer asked, doubt laced in his face as he shot you a questioning stare. You only averted your gaze, unsure of how to respond to all of the prying eyes.

“Indeed! I’m sure you’re familiar with a charm like this?” Alastor smiled innocently, before gingerly holding out your hand, gesturing to your ring finger. That golden ring glinted in the sunlight, and the small rose-gold engraving of the letter A was on full display.

Lucifer’s eyes widened after a moment, and his gaze shot to you, then to Alastor, before landing back on the ring. He seemed to reel back slightly as it finally dawned on him, before his face settled into a look that silently grumbled ‘You gotta be kidding me.’

Charlie gasped, clutching her cheeks as she leaned in closer for a better look. The ecstatic look on her face was a complete inverse to her father, who only averted his gaze at the sight.

You stood with an awkward smile, heat creeping onto your cheeks as you sidled slightly away from Alastor. You did not expect him to be sprinting it back onto these guys, in front of Lucifer no less.

The King only turned to you, disbelief in his features as he sent you a pointed stare.

“You’re telling me you work at a formalwear store, and you picked a guy with this bad of a wardrobe?” He gestured subtly to Alastor’s suit, a grimace on his face as he eyed the demon’s style with contempt.

Alastor only adjusted his bow tie, throwing his hair back as he straightened. He shot you a pointed look too, prodding you with a ‘Are you really going to agree with him?’ stare.

You said nothing, so Alastor only turned to face Lucifer, clasping his hands with a large smile, “I’d take your fashion advice to heart, Your Majesty, but it seems your taste lies at the bottom of a bargain bin, so I must respectfully disagree.”

“Bargain bin?!” Lucifer gasped, a hand shooting up to his chest as he recoiled. A growl rose from the fallen angel’s throat as he opened his mouth to retort, only for Charlie to grab him from behind and pull him away from Alastor.

“I’ll pay you triple the amount from yesterday if you just take that ring off!” Lucifer begged as Charlie dragged him down the steps. “Do you fancy goat horns? I know of someone in the Wrath Ring that is available!”

The father-daughter duo disappeared from view, their voices muffled as you watched the doors slam shut with a crackle of green energy. Turning to face Alastor, you find a smug grin dancing on his lips. You frowned, did this guy really just insult the King of Hell like the man couldn’t stomp him in a moment?

“Your arrogance knows no bounds,” you chastise the demon, waggling your finger as you spoke, “speaking so comfortably with the King in such a condescending manner. He could smite you for that, you know.”

“Verbal sparring with the monarchy is a favorite pastime of mine, sweetheart! I’m sure our dear king enjoys it just as much as I.” Alastor shrugged, twisting the cane between his claws as he regarded you with playful eyes.

“You are such a pain in my—”

Your words died in your throat when the outline of a dark-red rose was thrust towards you, Alastor’s fingers gently curled around its stem as he held it up for view.

“For you.” He smiled, his lips curled in a soft grin.

“Me? But, where did you get this?”

“Some bumbling oaf down there was going to stomp on it, so I stomped him, instead,” Alastor shrugged, extending the rose closer to you as he spoke, “I thought it would be something you’d find interest in. It… reminded me of you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, gaze lowering towards the wine-colored flower. It was beautiful, even with its slightly jagged petals, and the much larger thorns that covered the black stem.

But, for Hell, it was such a relieving sight. To know that something that presented emotions could exist in such an apathetic, pessimistic environment like the realm around you. Honestly, it didn’t have that many similarities in comparison to Earth’s rose, but its mere resemblance made nostalgia pull at your heartstrings.

Old emotions began to boil inside you, and your throat tightened. Even after all the hardships, you still missed the trees and the smell of real, fresh air. The feeling of the sun against your skin, kissing you with a warmth that always stirred a smile onto your lips. Hearing the morning doves in the early spring morning, their gentle coos echoing through the thin veil of fog that settled onto the dew-filled grass.

Now, you were stuck here. A dark, dirty realm that gave you its fair share of grief too. A lot in the span of two days, even. But, the good in it, was seeing the genuine smile that greeted you every time Alastor drank in your presence. Like this morning, when you agreed to join him on the patio, and the way his ears seemed to stand even taller when you said yes.

It was also the fact that Alastor was so intent on presenting this lovely gift to you, that he killed someone just so the rose would survive the chaos, that made you feel so warm and giddy inside.

A smile bloomed across your face, and you gently wrapped your fingers around the stem, right above Alastor’s own. The top of your hand grazed against the softer texture of the rose’s petals, but its sharp thorns nicked at the skin on your fingertips, causing you to grimace slightly. You adjusted your grip slowly, the pain ebbing as you found a comfortable hold.

Your hand brushed Alastor’s as he released his grip, pulling his hand towards him, his gaze traveling to your arm lifting as you inspected the rose closer. All the memories of long, forgotten experiences made years prick at your eyes.

“I.. don’t know what to say. This is so sweet of you,” you replied softly, eyes still locked on the rose and you gently caressed its petals, “thank you, Alastor.”

Alastor watched the emotion flood across your face, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to say next. The look on your features made him feel.. strange.

As if, this was a reaction nobody in Hell has ever given him before, excluding Charlie. It was fear and anger that only ever greeted him. Which he preferred, it made him feel strong, made him feel powerful.

Your soft, sweet smile, however, was something Alastor could get used to. The way the dimples on your cheeks deepened slightly as your lips curled delicately. As if you too were a rose, your petals softly opening for the new day.

His gaze still rested on you as the tip of your nose inched closer to the petals, before you inhaled a deep breath.

It smelled surprisingly sweet, but also with a warm, earthy scent. A hint of smokiness underneath the layer of the sugared aroma. It reminded you of a wood-burning stove, or the smell of firewood that clung to your shirt after a night in the wilderness.

But, also… the faint metallic tang of blood.

Brows furrowing, you pull the flower away, your eyes traveling to the barely visible glistening substance coating part of the stem. It almost mirrored the color of the dark-red petals, and you lifted your gaze to Alastor.

When your eyes traveled up his figure, it was the small trails of red liquid that dripped from his fingertips that made you recoil, a hand to your mouth as you gasped.

“Alastor, you’re bleeding!” The worry in your voice was obvious as you stepped closer to him, trying to get a better look at the small gashes on his skin. He regarded it with indifference, as if it was just a simple bother. You frowned at his reaction, there was no way that didn’t hurt!

He was a sinner, just like you, and almost everyone in the hotel. Mortality was still present in his afterlife, including the sensation of pain. No matter how hard he tried to present himself as a powerful being like Lucifer, he was still just a man who felt the same things you did. If not, with a little different... perspective.

“It is nothing, do not fret about me, my doe,” Alastor brushed off your words, beginning to pull his hand away from your view. You saw a drop of blood leave the tip of his claw, falling onto the cracks below your feet, “they are just feeble scratches, nothing I, the Radio Demon can’t handl–”

Alastor’s words died in his throat, the last of his sentence coming out in pure static as his pupils dilated on your hand wrapping around his wrist. Your grip was firm, preventing him from shielding the wounds from you, as you tugged his hand closer.

This was the boldest move you had made since the two of you had first met. It was usually Alastor who made the first gesture, who took your hand and touched you softly. As if you were a fragile doll that could crack at the teeniest bit of pressure.

The man was so used to control, having complete say in who touched him—which was never, unless you count Angel Dust whenever he tried riling up the demon—and why. If you were some normal face in the crowd making such a move, he’d probably have torn them apart.

But oh, the warmth from your touch that greeted his cool skin had him yearning for more. That blissful feeling that seemed to bloom from inside his bones, that traveled like a river through his veins, filling him up with a strange, yet awfully familiar feeling.

Like, when his mother would sit him down at the table for dinner, a bowl of hot, steaming Jambalaya in her hands that she made just for him. Anytime she noticed he had a hard day, she’d cook his favorite meal.

As a child, he had eagerly scarfed it down, impatient to fill his stomach with such a treat. When he grew older, however, he learned to slow down and savor the explosion of flavors that tickled his taste buds in every bite.

He remembered the way the delicacy traveled down his throat, and how it felt like a fire was igniting in his belly. The warmth emanating from your skin reminded him so much of that.

And that smile that always graced your features at the sight of him? Alastor remembered that from somewhere too. His mother’s lips always curved into a soft, gentle grin that would make anyone butter up in their presence.

Your lips seemed to curve just the same, and the demon was sure if the two of you would have met before the afterlife. His mother would have loved to meet you.

Alastor remained deathly silent, his muscles tense as you splayed out his claws, turning his hand over to have his palm face up. There was dried blood across the smooth skin, which meant he had been bleeding for a while now.

How hard was Alastor holding the rose during the fight that he cut up his hand like this? If it wasn’t for the bickering between him and Lucifer, you surely would have noticed it earlier.

Your fingers gently brushed against the small cuts, blood still slowly seeping from beneath the demon’s skin. You nudged his wound softly, inspecting it with worry.

“Does that hurt?” You asked softly with furrowed brows.

“Does it matter?” Alastor scoffed, averting your expectant gaze.

“Yes! It does, actually!” You retorted, before your gaze moved to your outfit with a determined look. Quickly, you reached down, taking a fistful of fabric in your grasp before pulling it hard. With some friction, it began to tear away from the rest of your garment.

Now, you had a large piece of cloth in one hand, and Alastor’s wrist in the other. Reaching forward, you began to cover his cuts tightly against the fabric.

“Must you ruin such a pretty outfit for something so insignificant like my hand?” Alastor inquired, exasperation lacing his voice, “You’re treating it like some kind of battle wound, I am fine, my doe.”

He didn’t pull away from you, however, as you finished patching up his injury. Inspecting his hand closer, you eyed work for a moment, before you shook your head, dissatisfied.

“I forbid you from doing any activities for the rest of today until you address your wounds,” you declared, crossing your arms sternly.

“Forbid?” He inquired, quirking a brow in amusement.

“That’s right! If you don’t take care of your injury, or let me do it for you, then I’ll have no choice but to put my foot down.”

Alastor squinted at you for a moment, that grin masking his thoughts as he regarded you. Was he going to argue? Sweat beaded on your forehead as you anticipated his answer. It wasn’t like you could exactly stop the powerful demon from doing what he wanted, but you also couldn't just let him strain his wound further because of pride.

Alastor didn’t argue. Instead, he simply shrugged, a pleased smile gracing his features. He closed his eyes thoughtfully, before holding a limp hand towards you.

“Well, if you insist,” he hummed, cracking one eye open to watch you expectantly.

“Really..?” You asked in disbelief, regarding his hand with suspicion.

“If the lady wishes to fuss over my health, I suppose I could heed her demands,” Alastor responded casually, lifting his hand closer towards you, “and, how could I refuse such a generous offer?”

You smiled playfully before slowly wrapping your fingers around the makeshift gauze, trying to get a good grip around his cuts as you held his hand.

“Is there somewhere I could get medical aid inside? Baindaids, alcohol solution… ibuprofen?”

Did Ibuprofen even exist down here? There had to be something similar at least, the Pride Ring was full of mortals that could still feel pain. Was Alastor in a lot of pain? Even if he was, you probably wouldn't get a straight answer from him.

Now, you understood why Alastor and Lucifer didn’t like each other. They were just fighting for who was really the embodiment of pride.

“Hm..” Alastor tilted his head in thought, before his ears twitched, and a sly smile graced his lips, “I do believe I know just the place!”

Without a word, he returned your grip and pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched, your chest almost bumping against Alastor’s as he took your other hand. The two of you looked as if you were about to start a waltz, as the demon looked out towards the railing, his chest still facing yours as his smile grew.

“Hang on tight, my dear!” He stated chipperly, and you fastened your grip hastily. The air began to crackle with energy, goosebumps rippling across your skin as static seemed to tickle at your figure. Green smoke pooled at your feet, and that familiar tingling sensation overtook you, just like the first time you were teleported.

Alastor only pulled you closer right as the smoke blasted up, cold air hitting your face as you were pulled into darkness. The presence of the hand against yours was faint, but at least you weren't alone this time. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, your heart racing as you waited to feel the floor against your feet once more. Then, you felt a thumb brush softly against your knuckles, it circled soothingly across your skin, and you relaxed slightly.

What felt like minutes really only took a couple of seconds, as you felt soft lighting hit your eyelids, and Alastor stir beside you. His hand didn’t leave yours, as he waited for you to join reality.

“Not so bad, hm?” He prodded you slightly, beckoning you back into reality.

Letting your pupils adjust to the light, the familiar wallpaper from the hotel corridor met your vision. Did he really just materialize the two of you across the building? You didn't have any problem walking, but perhaps Alastor was trying to avoid the small crowd that would have met them at the bottom of the patio stairs.

“I feel kind of queasy,” you responded, shaking your head of the fog in the back of your mind.

“After a few times through, it won’t bother you anymore,” Alastor assured.

Trying to get a better estimate of your location, you turned your head to one side of the hall, taking in the sight of a dark, oak door. The familiar numbering made you quirk a brow, tilting your head towards the smiling demon. He met your gaze, a soft, lipped smile on his face.

“We’re going in my room?”

“Not quite..” he hummed, gripping your shoulders and pivoting you to the opposite side. Your eyes widened, gaze locked onto the matching door of Alastor’s room.

You stayed silent, feet frozen in place as you watched him take a few steps, his good hand wrapping around the spherical doorhandle. Slowly, he twisted the knob until it clicked softly. The hinges creaked with age, and the hallway lights began to spill into the darkened room as the crack in the doorway widened.

You couldn’t see anything through the slightly opened entryway, but your heart quickened as the second passed by. Your eyes flicked up to Alastor, who regarded you curiously, his gaze gentle as your nerves began to display on your face.

“Ladies first!” He beamed, his smile an assurance to your heated skin.

He obviously wanted you to go inside, and part of your brain was nudging you forward with excitement. Alastor was inviting you into his quarters, he was allowing you to take a step inside his world, to get to know him!

The other part whispered hesitation. What lay behind that door? Surely, more than just medical supplies.

It was as if you wrapped a sheet around the reluctance that was beginning to plague your mind, stuffing it underneath the floorboards of your brain. You weren't going to let your flustered mind get the better of you, and have you miss such an opportunity to get closer to the charming demon.

Exhaling a quiet breath, you banished your nerves into the air. Straightening your back, you sent Alastor a warm smile and took a step forward.

wingman!lucifer anybody? ✋

let me know what you think! ☺️ comments and reblogs are appreciated!

tags 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @rayanicaraynbow @katiebwalczak03 @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @thenocturnalreadingotaku @just-here-reading @taintedgenre @fairyv-ice @aisling1985 @missam @funkyexistence @summerofregret@beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @karolinda007-blog @thehybridprincesshatedchild

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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pennyellee · 4 months

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

title: champagne confetti pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 release date: 24.1.2024 23:00/11 PM CEST - 17:00/5 PM EDT

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem and m receiving), spanking, implied cum swallowing, creampie, soft yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so, ehm, this story got way outta my hands, it was supposed to be a goddamn rom-com with enemies to lovers trope - i wanted to build around the character trope of Rachel Green from Friends because she is my favourite character of all times, what i wanted to build around was how Rachel was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went in a different direction. Nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this fic and i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much. See you on the 24th chummers, love you! 🩵

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink?—” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you couldn't help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—”

read here

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy - @mylyus-blog - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim

ps: lemme know if you want to be additionally tagged! 🩵

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 8 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 1)

Summary: After one of the reader's last concerts of the year, she unexpectedly runs into notorious playboy Dean Winchester, quarterback of the LA Wolves. Only Dean's a big fan and he seems to want more than just a photo if given the chance...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: I promise there'll be more Dean and reader interacting in person next part! Needed to set the scene with this!

_________

You groaned the second you were alone. You’d survived the summer tour but you were exhausted. All you wanted was a greasy hamburger, chicken nuggets, and to sleep for a month. After changing into a pair of joggers and oversized hoodie, you texted your bodyguard Eric, telling him you wanted to get out of there quietly. He knocked twice on your dressing room door before entering with a smile.

“Great show tonight,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Eric grabbing your backpack for you.

“Like you pay attention to anything besides harassing the security team,” you said, resting your forehead against his strong chest. “I never want to tour again. I’m so tired.”

“You’re just cranky cause you’re hungry and need sleep,” he said rubbing your back. “You only have two more shows this year and then we can sit on the couch eating cookies and binging divorce court.”

“This is why I keep you around, buddy,” you laughed, taking a deep breathe before looking up. “Speaking of food-“

“Let’s get you out of here and full of some chicken nuggies.”

“Back in five,” you said to Eric thirty minutes later, your wallet in hand and panic button in your pocket. He let you go out without it sometimes but not after a show and especially not when you were in the press so much lately.

It was nearly midnight as you walked into the nearly empty McDonald’s, a guy in a hoodie at the counter with his back to you.

“Hi,” you said, stepping up to the other register. “Can I get a quarter pounder with cheese, a medium fry and a twenty piece chicken nugget with barbecue sauce? Oh and a bottle of water.”

You paid, the girl behind the counter staring at you like she recognized you but was too nervous to say anything.

“Holy shit,” said a male voice. You glanced left, the man in the hoodie pushing it down to reveal him in a black baseball cap. He was incredibly handsome and had such pretty green eyes. Something seemed vaguely familiar about him but you couldn’t place it. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N…and apparently you eat like a linebacker.”

“Dance on stage for three hours every night and you would too,” you said, the man humming.

“Do you mind if I get a pic?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, the man handing his phone to the girl behind the counter who eagerly took a few. He was practically giddy when he got his phone back, a bag of food coming out for him.

“Thanks for indulging me,” he said. You noticed a few strands of confetti on top of his hat and smiled. He must have been at the concert. He almost walked away and out the door when he spun around, parting his lips. “Can I give you my number?”

“Sure,” you said again. It was much safer to just take the number and hand it off to Eric to do a background check on the person than try a rejection. The man scribbled it down on the back of your receipt, your cashier now acting as his wing woman and making sure he had a pen.

“I uh, hope to hear from you soon,” he said, flashing you a wink before leaving. You eased when he was gone, the girl at the counter handing you your bag of food after a moment.

“He’s so hot, isn’t he?” she said, your eyebrows raising. Not the reaction you were expecting from her.

“Mhm. Thanks for the food. Have a good night,” you said, quickly leaving. You ducked outside, Eric waiting in the backseat for you.

“Any trouble?” he asked, nodding to the man farther down the parking lot, slipping into a large SUV.

“Just a fan,” you said, handing him the paper with the guys number. He gave you a side eye as he took it from your fingers. “He was harmless.”

“I’ll check it out to be sure,” he grumbled, stealing a fry from your bag. “Did you get me-“

“Yes I got you your nuggets,” you said, Eric relaxing back into his seat. Your driver headed for home and in twenty minutes you were on your couch chowing down. Eric was at the kitchen counter, lazily scrolling through his phone, probably grateful that you were secure in the house for the night.

You watch his eyes go wide, gaze shooting to you.

“I swear I didn’t do anything.” You kept eating your burger, Eric silently watching you. “Dude, you’re freaking me out.”

“That fan from McDonald’s posted the pic of you,” he said. You rolled your eyes and got up, sulking over to him.

“Oh tell me he’s not some whack job.”

“He’s Dean Winchester,” he said, showing his phone to you. You shrugged, walking back to the couch. “Dean Winchester? NFL quarterback? Three time Super Bowl winner?”

You stared at him, Eric groaning.

“He’s the quarterback for the LA Wolves…he went to Kansas State the same time you did, Y/N. You probably went to his football games.” He rolled his eyes at you. “How do you not realize you’re taking a picture with a sports legend?”

“I must have missed it with all my free time over the past dozen years with all the touring and ten albums and other shit in my life. And frankly you’re the one that told me it doesn’t matter who it is, I need to be careful of everyone, whether they’re famous or not.” He sighed, putting his phone away.

“Alright, I get your point,” he said, returning to eating. “Dude’s kind of a player anyways it seems like. Nice guy but I know you’re more the sensitive guy type.”

“Emotionally available,” you corrected, plopping down on the couch once more. “Why would you think he’s into me anyways? Plenty of people are fans without wanting to get in my pants.”

“Well, it’s Dean Winchester so he definitely wants in your pants,” he joked. “Also the caption, genius.”

You quirked your eyebrow, Eric tossing his phone over to you. You pouted when you went back to the post, actually reading it this time.

DWinchester67 Y/N Y/L/N Saturday Night Concert at the Wolves stadium. AMAZING TIME with the crew. Worth getting ragged on by the boys all week for taking them to the show just to see them belt their hearts out to #FinishLine (video soon)

Then had the awesome luck to snag a pic with Y/N grabbing a midnight snack. I was dying on the inside at meeting my crush. Sorry for being awkward when you were trying to get your grub on. Next time it’s on me ;)

Your eyes met Eric’s when you finished, his chicken nuggets nearly gone.

“Yeah, like no reason he’s into you, right?” smirked Eric. You grumbled, returning to your late night dinner. “I’ll background check that number in the morning.”

“He’s a player that wants to have sex. Don’t bother with the background work. He’s harmless.”

“As you wish, princess,” he said with a little bow, earning himself being hit in the face with your balled up burger wrapper. “The abuse I put up with. Tsk tsk.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell that to your generous benefits package,” you said, Eric chuckling as he double checked the back doors were locked one last time. “Eric…”

“Mhm,” he hummed, ruffling your head gently as he walked past the back of the couch. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

“Night. Oh!” you said, sitting up on your knees on the couch, Eric throwing his head back. “It’s nothing bad! Just…can you ban everyone from the house until ten? I really want to sleep in and try to catch up.”

“You want me to fend off your team? After Dean Winchester posted that? What do I get out of this?” he teased, crossing his arms. You batted your eyes, jutting out your lip. “You got to do better than that.”

“I’ll buy you box seats to an LA Wolves game of your choice?” He looked blank faced which meant he was really tempted to take the offer. But Eric didn’t like extravagant gifts from you for doing his job. He already said his paycheck was more than enough and he barely accepted the Christmas and birthday presents you’d get for him.

You held up a finger, Eric calculating the move.

“Give me one good reason for not accepting.”

“First off, it’s too much. Second, I’m your primary protection agent and need to be available-”

“Please Eric? They’re going to be vultures in the morning with that whole post and you haven’t had a day off in six months. You’re as exhausted as I am. I’m asking as your friend, not your boss.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “Is that a yes?”

“It means I’ll think about it and I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “We’re going to watch football all day. I’ll teach you all about it.”

You growled, Eric snickering the whole way out.

Dean POV

The first game of the season was always a good one. The team was healthy. We had home field advantage for once.

And I really enjoyed the hell out of playing football in a packed stadium. It wasn’t an ego thing like for some people. No, I loved putting on a show and entertaining people for a few hours a week, give them a fun escape before they had to return to the reality of their lives.

That’s what football had always been to me and I knew for most fans, it gave them that same sense of belonging.

And women tended to really like seeing a bunch of muscular men run around in tight pants.

“Winchester, surprised you’re here,” said Michael. I glanced over my shoulder in the locker room, a big smirk on his face. “I thought you’d be in the burn unit with how hard you crashed and burned with Y/N Y/L/N last night.”

I rolled my eyes at the taunts of the room, ignoring them as they riffed on me for a good ten minutes. When Benny walked in though they finally calmed down, Ben taking a seat in his cubby beside me.

“Let me have it,” I sighed. Benny leaned in close, covering his mouth from the rest of the room.

“If you really want that girl to go out with you, you got to do more than make an insta post. She’s classy. She’s not going to fawn over you like every dipshit you’ve dated because you’re good looking. So you better impress her.” He gave me one last look before reaching down to his duffel and pulling out his cleats.

He had a point. Y/N had never cared for cocky flirts. I could remember her in college, always spending time at parties with the shy academic guys that chatted her ear off about music theory and english papers. I swear the only time she gave a single jock attention was when she’d grab a guitar in the late hours of the night and sing a song none of us had heard before. She could stop a group of drunken college students in their tracks with a single note. Nowadays her music was all pop but back then, just her and a guitar…I’d have sworn an angel fell out of the sky straight in front of me.

No woman had made my heart swell up with comfort and longing the way she had the night I laid eyes on her for the first time.

The years had done little to diminish a teenage boy’s crush. If anything, seeing her last night, getting to talk to her for even a brief moment, made my insides burn hotter than before. Maybe it was only a crush, an infatuation with a beautiful woman with an even more beautiful voice.

I felt Benny’s stare on me as I lazily watched my feet before me.

“You’re still in love with her.” He said it as a statement so I didn’t respond. I’d never claimed such a thing despite Benny insisting on it back in college. But he’d always been good at sensing those kinds of things.

Or at least he wasn’t afraid to say it out loud.

“I talked to her in english lit once, about you.” My head snapped up, eyes wide as he was now down to his boxer briefs, tugging up his pants. “She heard what happened to Sam.”

“Why are you bringing up Sam?” I whispered, giving him a hard glare. Benny smiled, curious since he knew not to bring him up unless I did. “Half the school offered their condolences. Of course she-”

“She didn’t. She offered…hope. Apparently her little brother went missing once too.” I turned my head away.

“Everyone who knows anything about Y/N Y/L/N heard that story. Congrats. We both have little brothers that were kidnapped and never heard from again. Fucking awesome we can share that trauma,” I spit out. Benny leaned in close, gripping my shoulder.

“She wrote a song for her brother. Finish Line. She showed it to me long before she got famous. Look up who it’s fucking dedicated to and maybe realize there is a deeper reason why you fell in love at first sight with that girl. I have a feeling she’s the only girl in the world that could get you and you knew it long before your head did.”

I was seething, storming out of the locker room and into a trainers room next door, quickly shutting the door behind me. What the fuck was Benny thinking bringing Sam up right before a game? I could handle thinking about a girl but Sam?

I angrily typed Finish Line dedication into google, freezing at the short paragraph that appeared as the top result.

Chart topper Finish Line by Y/N Y/L/N was notoriously written by Y/L/N in her senior year of highschool after the disappearance of her younger brother, Max. Max is presumed to have been abducted while walking home from a friends house. The music video of Finish Line states the song is “For Max & Sam” although Y/L/N has never stated who Sam is. Fans theorize “Sam” is a representation of all abduction victims however…

I immediately tapped on the youtube video of the song, scrolling all the way to the end, bottom lip wobbling as I read the stark white letters against the black background.

She never gave me the time of day back then yet she knew who I was, what it felt like to have a piece of you go missing and you couldn’t do anything about it. She put my baby brother in a song for her baby brother and we weren’t even friends.

I swallowed thickly, forcing myself to calm down.

“Sammy,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Is this a sign or something? Is she as fucked up as I am and the world doesn’t know it? Is that why she’s never been seen with a boyfriend her whole career? Did she shy away from connections when I buried myself in meaningless ones? Are we both so screwed up on the biggest stage in the world and that’s why I still feel breathless when I see her? Tell me I’m not crazy, Sammy. Tell me there’s a reason I’m still head over heels for this girl.”

I slowly opened my eyelids, staring at coach who was staring back at me on the other side of the room by the far entrance. I quickly cleared my throat and turned to leave, coach’s whistle stopping me in my tracks.

“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about son, but my advice as someone who’s been married longer than you’ve been alive…you know when you fall in love. That’s the easy part. Admitting it and trying to get the balls to say it to her face is the harder part.”

“Sir, she doesn’t even know I exist. Or barely knows I do,” I said quietly. “I should-”

“Your little brother, god rest his soul, wants you to be happy, Winchester. So shoot your shot with this girl so you can stop having an existential crisis before my home opener, got it?” I glanced over my shoulder, coach’s face surprisingly soft for how close we were to game time. “She must be special to tame you.”

“She had me the whole time. The rest were me trying to forget.” He nodded, picking up his playbook again.

“Then go get this girl so you have your answer,” he said. “And stay out of my training room before games. Only place they can’t find me.”

“Yes sir.” I ducked back into the locker room, Benny gave me a raised eyebrow, silently asking if I was okay. I nodded and sat down to tie up my shoes, an idea sparking in my mind before I opened instagram. “Ben, take a picture of me.”

“Good god,” groaned Michael from my other side. “Like your insta doesn’t have enough shirtless selfies.”

He snagged my phone out of my hands, sighing as he took a photo of me smirking in my cubby.

“I regret being your friend,” he said, handing it back to me while Benny chuckled.

“Same, Michael,” I smiled back before I was on insta and typing furiously. I posted before I could stop myself, Benny and Michael sharing a look and immediately going to their own phones. But they weren’t fast enough apparently.

“Winchester are you serious?” shouted Gabe from across the room, the whole team looking at their phones now.

“Yup,” I said, standing and tugging on my under armor v-neck, my shoulder pads and then my jersey.

“You can’t force a girl to go out with you!” he shouted.

“I’m not forcing. I’m offering a donation to her charity if she does feel inclined to go out with me,” I said with a shrug. Benny grabbed my shoulders, looking at me like I was crazy.

“Five million dollars? That’s not what I mean when I said impress her you idiot!” he said.

“That’s what the picture was for,” I said with a wink, my phone already buzzing non-stop at the incoming flood of texts and calls. “You think she’ll take me up on my offer?”

“This fucker’s really about to get a fucking date with Y/N Y/L/N through a fucking bribe,” said Michael, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re crushing so hard it’s in psycho territory.”

“One date is all I want,” I said, smiling when coach walked in, rolling his eyes at me. “Come on boys, time to focus on the game!”

Y/N POV

I was currently hiding in my bedroom, reading a book on Sunday evening, Eric doing his best to get my agent and manager and PR head out of the house without force. As expected, they’d reemed my ass out for not capitalizing on the Dean Winchester picture in the moment but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about hanging out with pretty fuck boys for publicity’s sake.

But I had followed him on my private account no one knew about. It’d taken a moment but I remembered who Dean Winchester was in our college days. He was flirty back then I remembered. And a good football player I guess. But I just remembered what happened in the spring semester, how the whole campus knew his pain before he had a chance to even process it.

My heart ached for a boy I’d said nothing more than a passing hello to at parties.

I still felt that ache whenever I sang Finish Line. I’d never realized Dean went on to his own version of fame all those years ago. But I knew the hurt still existed in his heart. There was no healing it but some part of me wished I could soothe it for a moment. I forgot in the music sometimes. Maybe he could do the same when he played his games.

Maybe I really should have talked to him last night.

My phone buzzed and I saw a new post, this one of him making my jaw drop. “Hot damn you are good looking, Winchester.”

Then I shrieked when I looked at the caption.

DWinchester67 Hey @Y/NY/L/N it was fun running into you last night. How about you take me up on my offer and let me buy dinner for our first date?

Oh and to sweeten the deal, I’ll donate five million dollars to your charity if you say yes (plus another million for each touchdown I throw tonight, those are freebies for ya).

You got my number so waiting on you sweetheart. ;)

Eric was in the room before I could raise my head, eyes darting around the room before he determined there was no threat.

“Jesus, girl. I swear if you saw a bug-”

“Dean Winchester asked me out. Publicly.” Eric narrowed his eyes as he tucked his gun back into the holster.

“Okay…you made it clear to the team today you don’t want anything to do with a publicity stunt. What’s the problem?” You tossed the phone to the end of the bed, Eric sitting on the bench at the bottom to pick it up. He did a double take, eyes skirting to meet yours. “I’m doing a full background check on this man. He either really wants in your pants, to profit off you or he’s obsessive. To be honest, I don’t like any of those options.”

“Me either but five million dollars to the charity? Plus more? That could help kids, Eric. We could find a safe way to do this, right?” He pursed his lips, nodding once.

“One date at a place of my choosing. My team will be there in the background and I’m going to talk to this boy and let him know all of the ways I can kill him if he tries anything.” You smiled, Eric handing the phone back.

“You’d kill your favorite football player for me. You’re too sweet Eric,” you chuckled. He stood up, adjusting his sports blazer.

“You know why I stuck with you when my agency assigned me to the Princess?” he asked, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “You always listened to me. You didn’t always agree but you listened and we could have conversations. We could have conversations about safety without you acting like a brat or me like an asshole. You respected me and that earned you loyalty all these years later.”

You stared your hands in your lap. “My parents lost one child. I don’t want them to lose another.”

You were surprised to find him come closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, turning to face you. He tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling softly.

“Don’t lose hope now, kiddo. I’ve always admired that about you.” You looked away, Eric stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Someday we’ll find the truth. I promise.”

“My mom wishes it were me,” you said, shaking your head. “If I didn’t make my parents so much money I’d think they’d be plenty happy to let some crazy fan take me away forever. All because I was five minutes late to pick up Max and he decided to walk home.”

“Hey!” Eric gripped your shoulders hard, hard enough that you felt the strength of his hands down in your bones. He was always so gentle you with guiding touches here and there you often forgot he was as deadly with his hands as he was a weapon.

You met his gaze, Eric sighing.

“That is not true and you know it.” His stern expression softened when you shook your head.

“She told me the day we had a funeral for him Max should have been there and I should have been the one missing. So I know, Eric.” He pulled you into a hug, letting you squeeze him tight.

“I know she did,” he whispered, your chin resting on his shoulder. “She has so many regrets from that time and knows what she said broke something with the two of you. But I have had countless conversations with them over the years. I know you trust me so trust me when I say, you are their world and it would destroy them to lose you. She always asks me if you’re happy because she says you put on your fake smile for her. She doesn’t blame you one bit for it.”

“I hate when you have points,” you said, closing your eyes, getting another squeeze from him.

“Happy to help my buddy. So you don’t give up on Max yet, alright? Everyone else has. If he’s out there, he needs you to keep going for him.”

“No wonder your team adores you. Soft cuddly bear under all the threats of violence aren’t you?”

“It’s how I land so many chicks,” he chuckled. He kissed your temple and stood, cracking his back. “Respond back yes if you want to. Let me look into this Dean Winchester before you agree to anything else though.”

You hummed, clearing your throat when Eric was in the doorframe. “I-I do remember one thing about Dean in college. He had a younger brother Sam that went missing too. Never found him.”

Eric kept his back to you for a beat, nodding once.

“Do you think Dean is a bad guy?”

“Gut check says no. Probably just wants a hookup,” he said before stepping out and pulling the door shut fast behind him. “Rowan, I swear to god you bother this girl tonight and I’ll shove my glock up your ass.”

“He asked her out! I need to talk to her!” he yelled back on the other side of the door. You sighed and put on your noise canceling headphones before going to instagram and tapping on his post.

Y/NY/L/N @DWinchester67 One date. As friends Winchester

Not five seconds later you received a winking emoji and “friends” in response.

“Dear god, you’re going to be a handful, Winchester.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester x reader #football au #au #dean winchester x #dean winchester au #spn au #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #football player!dean x reader #series #supernatural fanfic

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goobersplat · 4 months

Text

Assorted Pins Set

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

(Image ID: Six pinback buttons.

1) A blue pin with two cartoon French Fries, one pouring salt on the other. A red banner with white text reads “anything goes” and the white text continues off the banner saying “French Fries.”

2) A pale green pin with a picture of a gray and white tabby cat, it has a thought bubble with purple text reading “happy cats drink thirstycat.”

3) An orange pin with two shades of blue text on each word reading “birthday boy” with red confetti around it.

4) A white “I heart” button with black text reading “I ♥️ mistakes” with the k in mistakes facing backwards.

5) A white buttons with black boxes surrounding red text saying “bone donation”. Red text continues out of the boxes saying “ is constructive!” and a black logo reads “Robi” which stands for “regional organ bank of illonois.”

6) A pink and purple gradient button with music notes, money signs, and a CD with a blue sleeve with an orange circle reading Hollywood. White text in a black box reads “music video cash” with a blue music note as the i in music and a green money sign as the s in cash. White text below it reads “get your $3.00 coupon.”

End ID.)

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tea-and-vodka · 10 months

Text

DP x DC Black Parade AU (inspired by... well... The Black Parade by MCR)

- - -

Constantine had mentioned an event known as The Black Parade, or The Spirits' Travel, something Batman had never heard of outside his own music habits (that he would never admit to).

[SOMETHING SOMETHING, BATCLAN MEMBERS PLUS J.C. END UP AT A CLIFF TO WATCH THE EVENT]

Dick watched the stars as he stood dangerously close to the edge, clearly awestruck. Damian was not as interested by them. The stars only brought back memories made bitter and painful by loss, memories of him and his brother when they were little.

"Uh, what's that noise?"

The Bats and Birds immediately snapped to attention at Duke's words, alert for any potential threats. A faint repetitive drumming could be heard, like what one would expect from the lead drummer in a marching band.

Constantine huffed in amusement as he flicked the excess ash off of his cigarette before making a vague remark about the parade approaching. As he brought the cigarette to his lips, toxic-green whisps began to curl up from the ground before dissipating, a slow wave of appearances starting from their lefts and spreading rightward as the drumming drew closer.

"What is this, Constantine?" Batman questioned, though it sounded more like a cross between a growl and a threat.

"Exactly what you signed up for, Bats. Now, I'd recommend that you all stand back for this; you wouldn't want to be taken them." He retorted, gesturing with his half-gone cigarette off towards where the drumming seemed to be coming from.

The vigilantes' heads snapped over to the left, internally startled by what they saw.

A massive, glowing green parade was coming towards them, moving through the air like an Asian dragon. It was populated with obviously non-human people, dancing, flying, twirling, laughing, and playing as they continued through the sky. Many were playing a wide variety of instruments or singing, but it all blended together into a happy, content, but somber melody. The green whisps twirled and drifted through the air around them like anti-gravity confetti, along with chittering blobs of the same color and red beady eyes. But one thing caught Damian's attention quickly.

"Why are they glowing Lazarus-green?" He snapped at the blonde.

"It's ectoplasm, kid. Lazarus is just corrupted ectoplasm." Constantine responded calmly.

Left with more questions than answers, Damian turned his attention back to the ghosts that were now flying directly past the group. Some waved as they flew past, including a few children that made Bruce and Dick's hearts clench.

Near the end of the precession, they heard a faint, young voice that caught their attentions, though not more than Damian's.

"Wait up, Cujo!"

As the end of the parade approached, so did a young, white-haired, bright green-eyed teenager flying after a Lazarus-green dog. He laughed as the dog suddenly turned around from the chase, jumping off of nothing and into his arms. The teen smiled widely as he drifted along, holding the puppy closely.

As the ghost got closer, Damian ran to the edge of the cliff, only held back by a startled Dick.

"DANYAL!!" He shouted, reaching out for the boy.

The ghost's head snapped up, looking directly at Damian with shock written across his features. The dog leapt from his arms, bounding away and into the crowd. As green eyes locked onto a domino mask, he spoke almost breathlessly.

"Dami?"

Tears threatened to escape Damian's eyes as he reached out desperately for the other boy, held back by his brother along with Constantine as well. "DANYAL!"

The white-haired boy's eyes widened as he seemingly came to a realization. "DAMI!" He yelled, attempting to fly to Damian as he reached for him. Some of the other ghosts nearby wheeled around as they noticed what he was trying to do, a few grabbing him.

One with long blue hair(?) and a guitar had him held on one side as they quickly began to speak to him. "Woah there, Babypop! Stay together, you know how dangerous it is to get separated!"

The teen in their arms shook his head as tears streamed down his face, slowly being pulled farther from his black-haired counterpart. "NO, NO, PLEASE! DAMIAN!!" He nearly begged, reaching out as far as he could.

Damian had nearly slashed through the men holding him, his father having to join in to keep him back as he thrashed in their holds. Face twisted in emotional agony, he shouted once more. "DANNY!!"

"I'LL FIND YOU! I PROMISE! I'LL FIND YOU!" Danny shouted as his spot in the parade drew closer and closer to a portal that had opened outside of the humans' collective notice. "STAY SAFE; I WILL FIND YOU-!" Cut off by the portal, the last traces of the collective of ghosts disappeared.

Swirling itself out of existence, the portal disappeared with all of the fight left in the youngest vigilante. He collapsed to the ground, silent and nearly unmoving.

"Baby Bat?" Dick asked, concern lacing his tone. When his brother didn't respond, he gently reached out, slowly pulling him into a hug. When he didn't get a response, he held him closer.

"Robin."

Neither Damian nor Dick responded in any way to Bruce's prompting.

"Who was that?"

- - -

Sorry for how rough this is, I just wanted to get the idea out before I forgot! Essentially, Danny and Damian are twins, and when they were, like, four, Danny got dunked in the Lazarus Pits but didn't come back up from it, instead being taken through the Infinite Realms for a few moments before getting flung back out through another, smaller rift between dimensions. He was found by Jazz while the Doctors Fenton were out doing their ghost hunting thing. They adopted him and that was that.

#dp x dc #caps tw #tw repetition #twin au #teavod posts #Black Parade AU #tw crying #tw smoking

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libraryofloveletters · 11 months

Text

Nothing Without You

John Stones x Fem!Reader

Warnings: best friends in love but also in denial, everyone can see it but them, lots of softness, alcohol and the consumption of (lots of it), drunk jack grealish (thats a warning in itself), swearing, it’s so family coded between the players and kids and wags, baby fever from john’s end, friendly teasing from the other players, horrible singing, drunken posting, Sasha and reader are lowkey besties, hangovers for dayssssss

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s Note: you can blame the great miss whitney houston for this. every song she has is so john coded and in honour of the treble win, I had to do this.

Attached at the hip since you two were 20, it’s been that way since the first day you met; John was the drunk guy singing off key to Whitney Houston and you were the girl dancing next to him.

Inseparable since.

Istanbul had you all on the edge of your seat, fingers crossed and your heart pounding out of your chest as you watched Inter kick the ball towards the net. Ederson swatted the ball away and they managed to kick it from the net just as the final whistle blew.

One.

Two.

Three.

The match was over and you could breathe again; you can’t imagine how the boys must be feeling. Everyone goes running onto the field, the boys collapsing and hugging each other, screaming and shouting as the entire stadium cheers.

“They did it!!” You turned to the woman shouting next to you.

You pulled Sasha into a hug, “they did it!!” You shouted back. The two of you stood together as you watched the trophy ceremony, and the boys received their metals. The blue and white confetti covered the green grass and the fireworks covered the black night sky.

“C’mon!” You grabbed her hand as you made your way down to the field to see the boys.

John spots you before you spot him. The man in blue comes running to you, arms open before he reaches you. “Johnny!!!” You screamed, jumping on your best friend. He grinned, wrapping his arms around you as he pressed a fat kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to your lips.

The player swings you around before putting you down. Your hands squished his face, “Johnny!! I'm soooo proud of you. You’re a fucking champion!”

“Fucking champions!!” He laughs, kissing your temple as he puts his arm over your shoulder.

You two walked around the pitch, John stopping every two seconds to talk to his teammates and the Man City staff. You had wandered off, spotting Riyad’s fiancé, Taylor and their daughter, Mila. “Hi baby girl,” you smiled, tickling her side. “You wanna hold her?” Taylor asks and you smile, nodding.

She hands the little girl over to you and you kiss her cheek, fixing her little Man City jersey. You felt someone grab your leg and you look down to see none other than Ronnie. “Hi buddy!” You kneel down, moving to sit on the ground with Mila.

“Hi y/n! Hi Mila!” He holds her little hand, the two of them giggling over something. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was telling her but it was making her laugh.

John patted his friend’s back, the two of them turning their attention to you on the floor with the kids. Riyad doesn’t miss the way John’s eyes light up when he looks at you or how his smile brightens. You covered Mila’s eyes before Ronnie made a silly face at her. The three of you giggling like the best of friends. The big number 5 on your back and the sight of kids in your arms only made John’s heart skip a beat.

“She's good with them, huh?” He says, getting John’s attention.

“What?” He asks, confused.

Riyad nods towards you with the kids. “Y/n... she's good with the kids.”

“Oh,” John nods, smiling. “Yeah. She’s great.”

The man shakes his head, nudging his friend with his shoulder. Riyad laughs, “you just don’t get it.”

He picks up Mila, rubbing Ronnie’s head as he passes by with the little girl. John wanders over to you, a hand stretched out to help you up.

“Shall we take a picture?” He held your hand, walking over to Erling and his girlfriend who currently had the trophy.

You smiled watching as Erling stood up and handed the massive silver trophy over to his teammate. You and Isabel were whispering something to each other when John replaced Erling on the random chair in the middle of the pitch, the trophy balanced on his right leg.

“Babe,” the word rolled off his tongue, a common name amongst the many nicknames he had for you. “C’mere.” He pats his free thigh.

You walked over and sat yourself down on his leg, an arm over his shoulder to balance yourself. John wraps an arm around your waist, a hand on your hip with the other holding the trophy. Your arm was still over his shoulder and the other was holding the other side of the trophy.

One of the photographers shouts, “Smile!” John ignores him, letting you hold up the weight of the trophy for a minute, taking the medal around his neck off. He slings it around your neck, straightening it before holding the trophy again.

“Okay, ready now.” He tells no one in particular, the two of you smiling at the various cameras.

You giggled as John pinched your hip, getting you to smile brighter; the way he liked.

You were about to take the medal off but he stopped you, “keep it. It looks better on you,” he smiled as he passed the trophy off to Jack when you two got up.

---

There’s shouting, music and laughter coming from the other side of your hotel door. The boys were in full party mode but all decided to take a quick minute to freshen up before heading out again.

All of them except for the one you were certain was banging on your room door.

“Y/n!!” He sang along with the music, knocking again. “C’mon! I know you’re in there!!” He shouts as you open the door.

Jack stood there in his kit, medal over his neck as he dragged the big speaker behind him. He looks at you like you were an alien; lipstick in one hand, your drink in the other with the curlers pinned in your hair so you can freshen it up.

“You’re not ready?!” He shouts as if you were down the hallway.

You laughed, shaking your head. “What are you even doing up here? I thought you went straight to the club.”

"I came looking for- Oh! Here!” He turns around and grabs something, handing you a shot glass filled with some gold liquid when he turns back around. You look at the man like he's insane.

You brought the glass up to your face, the heavy scent of tequila caused you to wrinkle your nose. “Where'd you even get this?”

Jack’s got his own shot in hand, tapping his glass to yours. “We're fucking champions of Europe, baby! Cheers!” he shouted, the two of you giggling as you downed your shots in the doorway like teenagers getting drunk off cheap booze before a party. The tequila burns on the way down but Jack turns, the half empty bottle of 1942 in hand when he spins around again and he refills the shot glasses.

You tap your glass to his and drink this shot too, thinking you can finally get rid of him, allowing yourself to finish getting ready in peace but Jack starts singing and refilling the shot glasses once again.

“John, John, Johnny Stonesssss!” He held the note, “where are you, my Johnny Stones?!”

And as if he was summoned, John stepped out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. You won’t lie and say your best friend wasn’t attractive because he was but you couldn't look at him like that; despite looking at him like that right now. Your eyes fixed on the man, watching the way the water dripped down his chest, following the little drops all the way down to the towel that stopped them from going further.

Even with him being drunk, Jack noticed the way you looked at his teammate. He wiggled his eyebrows as he tapped his glass to yours. The two of you downed what you hoped was the final set of shots before he left.

He wiggled his eyebrows, John wasn’t paying attention to Jack at the moment. “Don’t fuck! Come down so we can get fucked upppppp.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed, smacking his arm lightly. Jack waved to you, finally walking away to the elevator.

John looks at you as he puts on his pants, “why is your face red?”

“Had a few shots with Jack,” you held up the empty shot glass, finally putting your lipstick on. John nods, humming as he finishes getting dressed. You were glad Jack stopped in because what else would you blame your red cheeks on? The fact that you were gawking at your shirtless best friend?

Insane.

He comes over to you, his hand on your hip as he watches you pull the last curler from your hair.

“Ready?” His eyes meet yours in the mirror.

You nod, smiling. “Ready.”

The club was five minutes from the hotel, you bumped into Phil and Becca on your way to the lobby, the four of you deciding to head there together. From the moment you stepped inside, John and Phil were instantly pulled into hugs, conversations and promises of dances, not to mention all the drinks all of you were being handed before you even made it to the bar.

The four of you got separated, you and Becca found a few of the other girls who had lost their other halves and were sorta dancing and chatting at the same time - it was more of a shout over the music but you were all too many shots in to care.

At some point, you decided you needed another drink that wasn’t in a shot glass. “I’m gonna get a drink!” You shouted to Becca and she gave you a thumbs up. “Do you want anything?”

“No! I’m good babe!” She smiles, letting you walk off to the bar.

You navigate your way through the crowd and eventually find the bar. The bartender was busy and you waited, not wanting to be one of those people at shouts at the bartenders who were clearly busy. A few minutes later, he found his way to you so you could order and just as you do, you feel a set of hands on your hips.

“I was looking for you!” The person shouts to you, a chin on your shoulder before you turn around.

You find John holding onto you, a big goofy grin on his face and you could smell the liquor on him; now if he split something on himself or if he had one too many shots, it was unclear but one thing was, that he was having a good time.

“I was looking for you too!” You shouted back to him, smiling at him.

Just as you turn around to get your drink, the opening notes of I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston come on; an odd choice for a club you think to yourself but John doesn’t follow the same train of thought. The man grabs your hand, the drink spilling as he pulls, practically yanked, you to the dance floor.

“This!” He shouts, “is my fucking song!”

You giggled, letting him pull you to him before you two started singing.

“Take my love, I’ll never ask for too much. Just all that you are and everything that you do.” You sang to John, arms over his shoulders and your hand resting on the back of his neck.

The man’s hand reached for your hips, pulling you a few inches closer. “I don't really need to look very much further. I don't wanna have to go, where you don't follow.”

“I won't hold it back again, this passion inside. Can't run from myself. There's nowhere to hide.” You sang the next part.

John spun you around, your back to his chest, his arms wrapped around you and held you close to him. You can feel his chin on your shoulder, the stubble on his jaw rubbed against yours as he pressed his face to yours.

“Don't make me close one more door. I don't wanna hurt anymore. Stay in my arms if you dare or must I imagine you there. Don't walk away from me.” He sang horribly off key.

You giggled as you two sang the last part together; “I have nothing, nothing, nothing if I don't have you, you, you, you, you, you.”

John lets go of you, your hand still on his shoulder as you two danced to the other song. You take a sip from your drink only to find the ice hitting your lips. “I need another one!” You tell him, wandering off to the bar again.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Jack and Erling giggling.

“What?” You shouted to them and Jack ran over. “You and John are so cute, it makes me wanna puke!” He laughs, a hand on your arm.

Erling slings his arm over your shoulder, “yeah! Get a room!”

“Fuck off, both of you!” You laughed, ignoring them.

You left them at the bar, a drink in hand as you walked off to find John again. The man was with Kyle and Ruben, the 3 of them pouring a round of shots.

“Want one?” Kyle held a glass out to you and you nod, taking it from him. John’s arm slings over your shoulder, pulling you into his side before the 4 of you holding up your shots.

“To us! To the treble! To the champions of Europe!” Kyle shouts over the music, the clear liquid slipping over the rim of the glass, all of you downing your shots.

Kyle pulls Ruben to dance, the two of them amongst the last set of people on the dance floor. It was nearly 5am, the sun was peeking through the clouds over the city and all of you had been up for nearly 24 hours straight. There was a flight back to Manchester in 5 hours and you figured you two could sneak in a few hours of sleep.

John had the same thought, “ready to go?” He whispers to you, lips pressed to your ear. You nod, holding his hand as you two walk out. He shouted to his friends as you two walked out of the club, his fingers interlocked with yours when you got into the cab back to the hotel.

The walk up to the room was no better, his hands on your hips, the two of you giggling as you tried to undo the lock on the door, the keycard not buzzing. John’s face buried in your neck, the stubble on his chin tickling at your skin, you shrugging him off and finally got into the room.

He went to the bathroom to change and you were on the bed, taking a moment to gather yourself before you tried to get your shoes off. Eventually you managed to undo the strap and kicked them off, letting them land somewhere.

“Fuck,” you heard from groan from the bathroom, you slowly got up and walked over.

You could see the man in the reflection of the mirror, his fingers tugging at the buttons on his shirt but he wasn’t getting them undone. “Need help?” you asked, pushing the door open.

John dropped his hands, “please.”

Your hands slowly made its way down, undoing the buttons for him. The medal around his neck slung as he moved and he finally got the hint after you pushed it away like 4 times. John took it off, you assumed he’d set it down somewhere but instead he slung it around your neck, the heavy gold pendent hitting your sternum when he let go.

“Perfect,” he smiled to himself as he watched you undo the last button.

You picked up the medal. “What’s this for?”

“Just ‘cause and you’re the coolest ever,” he hugs you from behind, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “And because I love you sooooooo much,” he smiled, kissing your jaw when he leaned down.

Your cheeks are bright red, swatting the man’s hands when he pinches your side.

The phone on the counter catches your eye and you pick it up, manage to unlock it and open the camera. “Smile,” you told him, leaning back on him. John’s arm wrapped around you, over your shoulder as you two smiled at each other in the mirror.

There’s a series of drunken photos being taken; his arms around you, the two of you making silly faces, laughing and giggling. Somehow you’re leaning over the counter and he’s got the phone now, you’re still laughing. There’s one of you hugging him, you kiss his cheek and in the next one, he kisses yours. Somehow you got your signals crossed, both of you turning to kiss each other on the cheek and ended up actually kissing. Your hand on his cheek as you giggled against his lips.

“We should try to sleep,” you tell him as you hopped up onto the counter.

John leaned on you and was clicking away from his phone. “Uh huh,” he finally put the phone down, wrapping his arms around you before he picked you up.“Let’s go then,” he carried you back to the bedroom, you giggled as you held onto him, the man dropping you on the bed before joining you.

---

The airport was noisy, your head pounding and you were still refusing to open your eyes. John’s arm was around you and you were cuddled into his side, trying to get a few more seconds of peace before the team headed out for this flight back to Manchester. The rest of you would all be on your own flights home later in the day.

Kevin was passing by, a smile on his face as he looked at this teammate. “Good man, Johnny.” He pats the man’s shoulder. John gives him a puzzled smile, watching Kevin walk away.

You open your eyes slightly, looking at your friend. “What is Kev on about?”

“Not a clue,” John rubbed your arm, letting you settle back into his side.

Gundo walked by, a big smile on his face as he looked between the two of you. John was beyond confused as to why all his teammates were in a good mood, patting his shoulders and telling him good job.

Either he was delusional and stuck in an alternate reality or they were all still drunk.

“YOU GUYS FINALLY DID IT!!!!” Jack shouts, jumping in front of you both. “Oh god, make him shut up.” You grumbled in John’s arm, making him chuckle.

Sasha shushed the man, pulling him back a bit. “Jack!” She scolded him, “be quiet.

“Okay, I’m confused. What is going on?” John asked. Jack’s looking at you two like you’re mad, “you- what do you mean what’s going on?” He reaches for his phone to show you something but the screen won’t turn on.

Sasha ignores her boyfriend for a moment, showing you both what Jack was trying to show you on her phone. There it is, the reason everyone has been looking at you two funny; a series of photos from the series of photos you took last night, you and John in the bathroom with the medal around your neck, kissing and John’s shirt undone.

Quite the scandal.

“Oh my god.” You looked at the phone, and then John, and then back to the phone and back to John again. Sasha nodded, “it's out there now.. but based on that look on your face, I’m guessing those weren’t meant to be posted?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, John was already reaching for his phone. “I’ll delete them.”

Your hand rested on his, stopping him. “Don’t.. it's already out there. It's fine.”

John looked at you, “you’re sure?”

“100%”

He smiles at you just as the announcement plays over the speaker. “All Manchester City players and staff, please report to gate 3B for departure.”

You and Sasha walked them to the gate. The couple next to you were all wrapped up, whispering something to each other like it's the last time they’d see each other - they’d be reunited in a few hours.

John’s hand rests on your lower back, “I’ll see you at home?”

You nodded, a smile on your face. “I’ll see you at home.” He pulled you against him, your hand on his cheek when you kissed him. Foreheads pressed to each other’s, giggling like teenagers in love.

“Can you let go of her for a second?” Jack interrupted, “let me say bye to my friend?”

John rolls his eyes playfully, letting you go. You and Jack hugged goodbye for now, John and Sasha doing the same. “We’ll see you at home,” she called to them, the two of them waving from the tunnel.

You were about to walk away but John dropped his bag, running back to you. “What are you doing-” The man cuts you off with a kiss; very hallmark-esque of him.

“You’re gonna miss your flight,” you whispered to him.

“They won’t leave without me.” He smiles, giving you another kiss. You gave him a little push, sending him on his way.

You jogged to catch up with Sasha, the two of you heading off to get a coffee. The woman nudged you with her shoulder as you two stood in line. You look over at her and nod, waiting for her to say something.

“I’m glad you two finally came to your senses.” She smiled and you laughed.

“Yeah, me too.”

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