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#i will never be over the fact that the last she just danced on her own
heyybaejjk · 3 days
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SOMETHING ABOUT YOU !
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pairing. teen!miguel o'hara x fem samoan oc
content. implied smut 😞 SIONE DA BEST MAN MENTIONED 🗣️🗣️🗣️ secret relationship, jealous miguel, cutesy moments between miguel & manaia <33 not proofread yall
main masterlist.
series masterlist.
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She was the epitome of beauty, that's what Miguel loved to think. In everything she did, it was utter perfection in his mind.
To the way she smiled, the way she walked, the way she sat in silence with her earphones blasting her cultural music and letting her mind run wild while jotting everything she knew in her book, whilst everyone else in class had caused chaotic mess with their confusion in every mathematic problem they tried to solve.
He admired her from across the table they both sat on, and his heart was fucking racing. He was close, yet so far away. And no, he wasn't going to slowly move his foot forward to accidentally hit her own, no.
Instead, he called out her name after finally shifting away his thoughts. "So, Manaia," she looks at him with an endearing smile, taking out both of her earphones to give the boy her full attention.
He shuts his mouth instantly. "Uh, never mind, sorry."
Miguel bites his lip nervously when she shakes her head and laughs, "You can talk to me anytime, Miggs. Don't be shy," yet she hides the fact that her face was hot, and if Miguel wouldn't open his mouth in 2 seconds, she was sure she'd run out the room out of nervosity.
He smiles, "I just wanted to say I love your new hair," and he says out of truth.
Manaia's hair that had once been honey brown had been dyed black, with a blonde counterpart underneath. She had found it so stupid, but to him, it was beautiful. She was beautiful.
"And your lip piercing as well," he compliments with a whisper.
Miguel's heart dances when she hears her giggle.
"I've always had this, Miguel," her ever so soft voice laughs.
To this, Miguel chuckles, "Never had the chance to say how beautiful it looks."
How beautiful you look, his mind thinks.
He smiles at her shy self, hiding a smile with her palm. "That's very sweet of you to say, Miggs." Her hand slides across the table to hold onto his, but backs away
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Manaia loved to experiment with her looks. Now there wasn't much you can do with a simple skirt, blouse, and the same mediocre looking jumper.
Miguel was excited everyday to see what was different; whether it be with her hair, new lip combo, or with how she styled her school uniform. She loved putting on jewelry as an addition, either way, she was ethereal without a doubt.
He made notes on which look stayed for a few days, indicating she loved it. And which look only lasted one period before something was changed the next time he saw her during the breaks.
Miguel had to come to accept the fact that people around him also had eyes.
He glared at those whose whispered about how elegant and beautiful his girl looked; nonetheless his mouth stayed shut.
"Smash or pass?"
Of fucking course.
Miguel craned his neck to the side, the table he sat on was isolated but he still heard the whispers of the two boys from across the room.
"Who are you talking about?" one of the two asked, wearing his hat backward as the other had long, yet messy gold hair placed in a tight braid.
"Girl over there," the long haired boy motioned his head over to Manaia who had her back facing anyone that sat behind her. Her headphones had blasted the latest song she had downloaded, seemingly on repeat as she couldn't get over the tune.
Miguel's glare goes unnoticed from everyone else in the room, thankfully.
"Oh, Naia?" his eyes slightly widen, and he doesn't hesitate at all with his answer. "Fucking smash, obviously," the guy with the backwards hat had smirked, dapping up his friend as he chuckles.
Miguel resisted the urge to get up and make his way over to the both of them.
"Reckon she's even good at, you know?" the Rapunzel dupe questioned, trying to get his voice low as possible yet failed miserably.
"Boys? Is there anything you'd like to share?" an authoritative voice rung through the room. The middle-aged woman who stood in front of everyone had raised a brow towards the back of the room, eyes set on a particular pair of boys.
Miguel watches as Manaia pulls down her headset to pay attention in case she were the one who was in trouble, then looking behind herself to see who the elder was talking to.
"No, Miss," the boy with hair that reached his ass crack had snickered, and Miguel's blood began to boil.
But his heart calms when Manaia looks over his way with a gentle smile, as well as a wave. He smiles awkwardly back after being caught staring at her.
Miguel looks back down to his notes pretending to write.
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It was semi-normal for couples to find a space where they could talk, kiss, and stuff...
Nonetheless, it was no different for Miguel and Manaia - who had walked around together with aching want to hold hands but managed to find a set of stairs that conveniently led up to the block they both had classes in.
Miguel had sat on an upper step so Manaia could sit a step below him. Settling herself between his legs, she slipped off her headphones and placed them around her neck, her music still playing in the background.
A few kisses on the cheek and forehead were shared, whispers of affection, and the sickly sweet banter - the usual of loving couples.
After awhile, they had fallen into a comfortable silence. Listening to each other breathe in the air they shared, letting each other gain warmth from the touch their bodies shared.
Manaia pulls away from his touch slightly to look up at him. "What are you thinking about?" she smiles.
Miguel is pulled away from his thinking, looking down to the girl he had his arm wrapped around.
"Pardon?"
A giggle erupts from the girl before him, "I said," her hand reaching up to poke his cheek, "What are you thinking about? I hope it's about me," she jokes.
Miguel gulps at the strong eye contact Manaia had held with him. He feels the warmth of her soft palm spread on his cheek, the soft push had made him look directly down at her just as she intended.
"Just us." Miguel whispers quickly.
"Mhm," her other free hand cups his other cheek, her head tilts curiously, "And what about us?"
"I'm just tired-" he drags his words, his eyes then widen when Manaia lets his face free from her soft hold, "Wait- no, no, not of us- I'm not tired of us, I swear I didn't mean that!" He whispers in an assuring tone, cupping her face and giving her forehead as many kisses as he could.
"Okay, okay, I believe you," she whispers in a soft voice.
Miguel sighs, "I'm just tired of us not being able to, you know, be a proper couple and we've been together for like," He counts with his fingers, "Months! We can't hold hands in public, I can't walk you to class, I can't show you off. I can't show anyone that you're my girlfriend, and vice versa," he pours his heart out to his girlfriend in expectant of her understanding.
Manaia nods her head in acknowledgement to her sweet boyfriend's words, she smiles at the trust Miguel had in sharing his feelings with her. "I get you, Miggy. I've felt the same way before, and I know I was the one to say I'd like for us to be private. I'm just scared, to be honest."
Miguel raises a brown, fully intrigued.
"What are you scared of?"
Miguel feels his heart jump when his sweet girl groans angrily, which he finds cute, "What should I not be scared of, Miguel?"
First-name basis? Miguel gasps as he thinks to himself.
Oh never-mind, she was truly upset.
"Miggy, you're-" She groans again with a pout, "You're attractive! you're bulky, you're tall, you're sporty, and you're smart!"
His face flushes at the rush of compliments he's given, "I still don't understand what you're trying to say, Naia," his fingers delicately brush a strand of hair behind her ear, as he noticed it slightly annoyed her.
Manaia huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms. Miguel chuckles, "Please just tell me what it is that's bothering you," he kisses her temple countless times as she doesn't pull away.
"You already know I barely have friends. Besides Sione, Kiuga and David, there's no one else I can talk to. And I don't want girls to try and befriend me just to get close with you," Manaia admits. She fidgets with the golden bracelet with the M initial Miguel had gotten her for their first month anniversary.
"I don't know what I'm saying honestly. I just know that I want you to myself, even if it means to keep us a secret," Manaia averts her gaze from his in a shy manner.
Manaia continues in a lowered voice, "I know how people can be. If people knew we were together, they'd talk about you regardless, especially in front of my face. They- ugh. What's that word, Miggy? They.. uh.." looking around to see something that would help her.
Miguel intervenes, "Naia, what are you-"
"FAWN! Yes, they fawn over you!" Manaia dramatically faints into Miguel's lap. Then peers back up with widened eyes looking straight at her boyfriend in shock.
"What if you find someone better along the way as well?!"
She continues on her rant for countless minutes about the silly what ifs and the "pretty" girls that would snatch him away from her.
Miguel could only admire the girl before him with a wide smile on his face, "I get what you're saying," planting a kiss on her forehead to calm her down. "But I want you to know that being together in this relationship means I'm only for you and it'll stay that way." he emphasizes before cupping his girl's beautiful face.
That was all Manaia needed before getting shy again. Trusting her boyfriend, she reaches up and leaves a loving peck on his lips.
Still in a mood, Manaia raises a brow, "You'll only love me, right?" her eyes sparkling with curiosity. His ears then catch on to the ongoing melody that rung through Manaia's headphones.
she looks just like a dream
the prettiest girl i've ever seen
Miguel chuckles, "If I wasn't going to love you only, I wouldn't have asked the prettiest girl in the world to be mine."
Manaia chuckles as she rolls her eyes, smushing Miguel's cheeks with her hand, "So cheesy."
"But if you're so concerned about people fawning over me," Miguel teases as his girl lightly slaps his chest, holding onto her wrist to keep it there, "I can think of a way to get people to lay off."
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M.Ohara_99 has mentioned you in his story !
Manaia is stopped from her endless scrolling on tiktok. Her attention is on the new notification from her boyfriend. Tapping on the notif, she immediately feels a rush of heat spread on her face when she sees her chat with Miguel.
Miguel was a gym fanatic, those who liked to look knew of this. It was bound for him to post at least one photo of his progress. Yet, for him to post a photo, flexing his arms and his uncovered neck that was marked with dark, purple hickeys?
He knew those who prayed and wished for him to be theirs were going to be hurt. But did he care?
Not at all.
Manaia isn't able to fully inspect Miguel's story completely when another mention pops up.
It shows Miguel flexing his muscular back, the long and deep scratches on his back definitely wasn't made to be hidden with the way he solely focused the camera on them.
Before Manaia could bang her head against her pillow happily, she notices the very obvious mention of her username in Miguel's story.
Not even a minute goes by and Manaia gets another message.
mahi_sniffer has sent a message to pussy eatersssss
mahi_sniffer: GUYS I AM HONORED TO BE ONE OF THE FIRST TO KNOW ABOUT YALL DATING
mahi_sniffer: BUT I SWEAR TO FUCK IF I FIND OUT YOUS HAVE SMASHED ON MY BED WHILE YOUS WERE OVER AT MY HOUSE IM GOING TO FUCKING FREAK
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this is so chat, i just wanted to upload this cos why not, i didnt know how else to end this LOL
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general-fanfiction · 14 hours
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Hopes And Fears Part Three. (Wally Clark x Reader)
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Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.
Word Count: 2.4k
Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!
Warnings: Mature Language
I’ve grown fond of the early mornings whilst stuck at Split River. The first glimpse of the sun shining over the gardens, a warm hue welcoming the day. With no students roaming the halls, all I hear is the quiet sounds of nature. On the odd occasion, I’m even able to spot a rabbit or deer, grazing gently on the acres of freshly trimmed fields surrounding the school buildings.
It’s become a habit of mine, each morning I find myself lounging besides the flowerbeds. Allowing myself to feel each blade of grass that delicately brushes my skin. For a while, I forget that I’m no longer alive. I can simply exist.
It’s not uncommon for Wally to join me. Sprawled on his back, gazing up at the clouds. Pointing out different shapes and imagining different backstories for all of the cloud animals he sees. Besides that, neither of us speak much. Only enjoying one another’s company as we relax in the morning light.
Spending this time has given me the opportunity to process everything. Wally helps me to work through my emotions and thoughts. Nothing ever being too much for him to listen to, though I’m still afraid to divulge everything. I’m sure he can sense that I’m holding back, yet he doesn’t pry. Content to just listen. In all honestly, I truly believe that these moments with Wally have helped me more so than Mr Martin’s support group has. Despite attending every session since my memorial, I consistently leave the group feeling unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. In fact, it doesn’t seem as though the teacher wants us to discuss the past, our lives and our deaths. Only wanting us to focus on the present, the state we are confined to. I find myself struggling with this a lot.
“What do you think you would be doing if you hadn’t died?”
Pushing myself up on my elbows, I look over to Wally, who is resting on his stomach, absentmindedly plucking grass from the ground.
“I was supposed to go to college, play football. Hopefully make it pro, that’s what the plan was anyway.” He tells me, full of confidence yet his tone of voice suggests that’s not the pathway he would’ve chosen for himself.
“What about like outside of a job though?” I pry, the boy has my curiosity heightened. “Like, surely you have other things that you wanted to do?”
His eyes focus in on the pieces of grass that he’s now twisting together in a makeshift sort of chain. Deep in thought, I can see the cogs working in his brain as he tries to think of an answer for me. I’m sure it’s not something he’s necessarily thought of before, following the path that his mom set out for him upon birth.
“You’re gonna laugh, but I always wanted to get married and have a family. I know that times have changed and you lot don’t really believe in marriage and stuff that much anymore but I’m a family guy. Always have been.” He admits, finally looking at me and I see the honesty written across his face. “It just sucks that I’ll never actually get to experience it.”
My heart aches for him. One fatal accident and his entire future was stripped away. Never getting to experience the things he always dreamed of. It breaks heart, knowing what he could have had.
“Wally, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s no big deal, really, I’ve spent the last few decades accepting my fate and it’s not so bad here.” He tells me, a sadness shining in the brown of his eyes, trying his best to cover it up with a soft smile. “What about you? Other than taking over the world with your best friend, what was the plan?”
Giggling slightly as he references Abby’s speech, I start to wonder what my life would’ve looked like. Truthfully, I have no idea. My life revolved around dancing and cheer, other than that I have no clue as to who I am. Up until my death, I didn’t believe I was worthy of love, the one chance I took was with Spencer and look how that turned out.
“I suppose I wanted to leave Split River, Abby wanted to go to New York so I figured I would study there.” I reply, knowing New York was never my dream. I just couldn’t bare to part with her once high school ended. “It would be quite nice to live on a farm. Out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by animals, I think that would’ve been my dream.”
“Now this makes sense.”
Crossing my legs underneath me to sit up properly, he’s unable to hide the bright smile on his face. Clearly finding some amusement in what I said.
“What makes sense?” I ask, to which he laughs quietly. Pulling a clump of grass out of the ground, I launch it in his direction. “Hey, you dickhead, I didn’t laugh at you, so you can’t laugh at me.”
“No, no. I’m not laughing at you.” Wally speaks through chuckles, rolling on to his back. “It just makes sense now why you like to sit out here.”
His arms are thrown across his face, shielding his eyes from the sun. I can’t help but stare as his muscles flex, admiring the sight in front of me. Following his body, I find myself biting the inside of my cheek as I notice his top has risen up his stomach ever so slightly. Highlighting the small trail of hair that dips below his shorts.
“Did you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out, before I even realise what I’m saying.
Slapping my hand across my mouth, embarrassment floods my body, eyes wide as Wally smiles. Eyebrows raised as he looks over to me. Sly smile making its way on to his face.
“No. No girlfriend. Why?”
“I was just wondering. I mean, star high school quarterback, you must have had girls queuing up for your attention.” I’m able to stop myself before I begin a long-winded rant. Helping to ease at least a tiny amount of my embarrassment.
Wally rolls his eyes at my comment. “Well in that case you must’ve had boys queuing up for your attention. What with being head cheerleader and all.”
“Ha ha. Okay, I know it was a stupid question.”
Fortunately for me, I’m saved from making a fool out of myself even more by the sounds of cars entering the parking lot. In unison, we both turn to face the sound. Observing the students that have started to filter into the building, chatting loudly amongst one another as they do so.
My vision locks in on Spencer and his gang of hooligans. They’re jumping all over one another without a care in the world as they make their way into the school. Trail of awestruck girls following behind in the hopes of garnering the smallest amount of attention from one of the jocks.
If only I was able to tell them what they’re really like. Perhaps they wouldn’t make the same mistake that I made. Perhaps I’d be able to save them from the same fate that I suffered.
“So I was thinking we could have a pool day. I think Charlie would be up for it, maybe not Rhonda, but it could be fun for us all just to chill out. You haven’t really spent much time with anyone else apart from in our sessions with Mr Martin.”
Wally’s words echo around my head though I’m not paying any attention. Despite, no longer being able to see the group that I was fixated on, I’m still closely watching the area that they had just previously been walking through.
Two weeks later and Spencer and his friends still evade justice. Police presence at the school has increased drastically with crime scene investigators cornering off the old toilet block. Maybe I’m impatient, but it feels like they’re getting away with it. Receiving no consequences for their heinous actions.
“Y/N, are you listening?”
Wally’s words finally drag me out of my thoughts and I meet his eyes. “Yeah, pool day, sounds good.”
“And we’re inviting Charlie and Rhonda.” He states, eyebrows raised as he knows I wasn’t truly paying attention to a word he said.
“Oh, no. They’re nice but can we just do it alone? I’m not sure I feel up to doing a whole group thing.”
Wally nods, though his eyes narrow. Sensing there’s something off with me. He’s good at noticing whenever my demeanour changes, or whenever something is bothering me. It’s part of his nature.
“Yeah of course. We should probably head to group first though.” The athlete pushes himself off the floor as he speaks, waiting for me to stand as well which I reluctantly do, not before releasing an annoyed groan. “You know, one of these days, you might actually enjoy the sessions.”
Rolling my eyes, I follow Wally towards the gym. He holds the doors open for me as we enter the building, his small act of chivalry makes me giddy. I make no effort to show this however, politely thanking the boy as I walk through.
“Ah here they are! Took you two long enough.” Charlie jokes as we enter the gym, taking our seats. I sit between Dawn and Rhonda with Wally seating himself between Charlie and Mr Martin.
“No guesses what they’ve been up to.” Rhonda comments, lollipop hanging out the side of her mouth as she does so.
“Thank you Rhonda.” Mr Martin chimes in, stopping the conversation from escalating any further. “So today, I figured we would get to know our newest member. Y/N you’ve been here for a couple of weeks now and we still don’t know too much about you.”
“I’m sure Wally could tell us all about her.” Rhonda remarks under her breath. So quiet, I almost don’t catch it.
“I’m sorry, is there something you want to say?” I snap, my tone harsh and confronting.
She laughs in response, the annoyance on my face evident as I glare at her. Her snarky and sarcastic nature hasn’t proven to be a problem for me, though I think that may be about to change.
“Y/N, tell us about your death. We’re all dying to know what happened. No pun intended.” The teacher interjects, attempting to diffuse the tense situation yet I still feel on edge.
“No thank you.”
“Oh come on Y/N, none of us are going to judge you. You know that.” Charlie tells me, offering me a reassuring smile.
“No, she’d rather just listen to all our trauma. Isn’t that right cherry pop?”
Rhonda’s words strike a chord within me. I’ll admit, the other ghosts have been very open about their deaths with me. All discussing in detail what happened to them to result in this fate. Sure, I haven’t divulged into the details of my death as of yet, but it’s for good reason. Not only am I still trying to process it myself but I don’t want them to look at me any differently nor do I want them to take pity on me when they learn the details.
“Do you have a problem with me or something Rhonda?” I ask, swinging around in my chair so that I can face her directly.
Upon doing so, I take note of how Charlie and Wally are quick to sit up straight. Feeling the anger radiating off me and awaiting any possible confrontation that may be about to occur.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” The girl retorts, crossing her arms over her chest before she continues speaking. “You waltz in here and make no effort with any of us besides Wally. Who, let’s not forget, you made to feel like a piece of shit on your first day after that unreasonable outburst. You listen to all of us recounting our deaths, the most traumatic things that could’ve happened to us and still none of us know what happened to you. It hardly seems fair.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry Rhonda. I’m sorry that i’m still processing what happened to me. I’m sorry that I’m not ready to discuss it with a group of strangers. I am so sorry that I’m not getting over everything as quick as you would like me to.”
My voice is raised as I speak, hurt that she would even think that my choice not to share what happened is a personal attack on the group. No matter how hurt I’m feeling, the anger completely outweighs it. Angry that she can’t see that I’m still struggling and angry that my murderers are still attending this school. Instead of being locked behind bars for the rest of their life, like they deserve to be. Nobody can understand what I am going through and that makes me so astonishingly angry.
“Boo hoo. You’re still processing, we’re all still processing. Not to mention the fact that we’ve barely seen Wally these past couple of weeks because he’s been trailing around after you, trying to make you feel less threatened by him. He’s even taken off that stupid football shirt that he loved so much! I hate to break it to you, but he was here first.” She argues, tears well in my eyes as she mentions Wally. I lock eyes with him and see his downcast expression. Was she right? Was he only spending this time with me to make me feel better and less scared? “You should do everybody a favour and fuck off back to the old toilet block where you came from.”
“Rhonda!” Charlie exclaims, clearly shocked by her words.
“Is that how you really feel Wally?” I ask hesitantly, the dejection evident in my voice.
He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Nodding slightly, I understand completely. Pushing myself out of the chair, nobody speaks as I make my exit from the room.
“Lovely chat.” Rhonda shouts, one last attempt to get a reaction from me. Even as I shove open the doors with an obnoxious slam, I don’t look back.
The entirety of my body feels heavy as I drag myself down the hallways. Nobody comes after me, not even Wally. I feel truly alone, hurt and confused. Death was supposed to be peaceful and yet here I am. Suffering more than I ever did when alive.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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nadezhda-wexler · 1 year
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#when you are trying to run a country but your husband is drama queen and a great dancer
The Great 3x02: Choose Your Weapon
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lovestryke · 5 months
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i think if you grew up in my household you would have put a gun to my mom and dad's heads already
#help i came home and they got so ballistic that i didnt say hi to them#after my 9 months of driving myself home and entering the house from work not once have they urged a greeting out of me#why the hell do they care now???#like mom got so mad and i was like um ok * goes back to watching danny gonzalez * then i get shouted at to come to parents room#and im like siiiighhh let me put on my jacket i know this will be a while#and im just getting yelled at and standing there like. is the song and dance over yet. can i get back to my computer#and my dad is like your MOM and I DONT TREAT YOU GUYS LIKE THAT#and im just in my head like.....you give us greetings rather than treating us like human beings.....ok....i would prefer the respect rather#than the greetings....#and my dads like whenever I come home I always greet everyone#and its like. yeah ? i can think of a few times where you havent but it doesnt matter when its you right#oh you can come home and greet everyone yeah but can you treat us with respect? are you capable of not having everyone groan when they hear#your car horn that indicates you're home? do you have the ability to not make everyone hide and vacate to their rooms when they hear your#key unlocking the door? no? then i dont care about the fact you can say hi to everyone#and mom is like lecturing me and my sister about not cleaning as well and its like hi what about your husband#hi maybe you should question why we cant clean our rooms#maybe its the fact you never taught us how to organize or how often to clean? did you know you've never taught us how to properly clean?#did you know i cant clean without a timer? are you aware that your eldest daughter that gives you attitude and promised to be mean when#she's taking care of you in your last years of life doesnt clean whatsoever? the 26 year old that acts just like your husband? the one whos#only chore is to wash dishes and doesnt even do that? she complains shes too tired because of work but even on her off days she doesnt do i#? do you remember that she only does the dishes when she's going out with a boy? do you remember the 3 months where i took it upon myself t#do everyones chores because i had the time? the way you dont acknowledge i helped out a lot during that time and helped keep peace through#the house by doing that? you dont because you love to focus on the negatives and as a result you make your own life miserable#and everyone else's?especially mine because im the one who actually feels guilt? but dont do it bc im tired of doing someone else's work?
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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DCxDP fanfic idea: Big Fish in Gotham Pond
Based off of @saphushia art found here. . I just loved the idea of Tucker not knowing his skill level because he grew up in the boonies
Tucker gets scouted by Wayne Enterprises after he fixes a kid's computer game while in Gotham visiting Danny.
See, Tucker always known he is passable at tech- one has to be when a technology theme ghost is consistently harassing one's best friend- but to be good at something in a small town like Amity Park didn't mean much .
It's a big fish in a small pound sort of deal. That's why he's never put much thought into it. If Tucker were ever to rank himself in terms of school grades, he would say his computer skills were about a C-.
B+ if it was just coding.
His parents also don't think much of his obsession with his PDA or phones. They thought he waste too many hours on them like the rest of his generation.
It didn't matter that Tucker's technology was about five or more years behind his classmates.
The Foley were hard-working people who barely scraped enough for bills. They were never below the property line, but they danced on it often enough that Tucker knew never to ask for unnecessary purchases.
For as long as he could remember, his parents have always worked long and hard hours. He never blamed them for missing so much of his childhood, in fact he was grateful that they worked so hard to keep the roof over his head, but he did miss them.
That's why Danny's house became a haven for him. He was always at the Fenton's place because the loud, wacky family was much better company than the home silence.
Tucker knew that his family's financial situation didn't change how Danny or Sam viewed him. They had his back through tick and thin just as he did for them, but as they got closer to graduation the difference between them became jarring.
Sam had easy picking of what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go. Her parents were so overjoyed that she wanted to go to a university that they didn't even argue about her wishing to major in botanical biochemistry.
She had started house hunting in Star City midway through senior year. Her parents would gift it to her as a graduation present. Sam would live there for the next eight years to finish her degree.
Danny's parents, while somewhat eccentric, were also certified geniuses. Between the two of them, they had five PHDs and were often freelancing for companies when not doing ghost research. They too could send their two kids to college States away with housing not being a issue.
Jazz went to Metropolis to study Physiology. She lived in a small apartment but was doing well off her scholarships and parent's funding. Last he heard, she had a part-time job at the Daily Planet as a research assistant to gain some independence.
Danny wanted to go to Gotham for their engineering program. He, too, had an apartment of his own, with scholarships and equal funding from his parents. He also worked at Wayne Enterprises, but he was a receptionist. He hoped that once he graduated, he could apply for their engineering program
Not Tucker. His family could only help him get into Community College near Amity. He also couldn't afford to move out so he stayed with them, picking up a part time job to help out when he could.
Tucker is a first-generation college student so even though it wasn't much, he loved to see how his parents glowed when telling others their boy was futhering his education. He wanted to do something that paid well- and after years of patching up Danny- he figured nursing would do the trick.
Tucker would do all his basics in the community College, take a break to save up some money and then move on to the bigger schools.
The day of the graduation felt bittersweet. Team Phantom was finally adults, finally starting out in the real world, but while Danny and Sam moved on to bigger and better things, Tucker knew he would be left behind in little no-where Amity Park.
He never brought it up, but he felt a small dosage of envy the last day of summer before his friends finished packing and left.
Despite both being gone, Tucker had little to no social life even though they called, texted, and emailed often. His days blurred between class, work, and home. Even then, classes were long and tedious, work often ending with one or more customers screaming in his face to try and get free food.
His parents quickly started to nag that he should find a wife as they had married young. They couldn't figure out why he didn't want the same, even though he had no social life again.
Life became dull.
Tucker's only sparks of joy were playing online with Danny and Sam - when they found the time to log in or re-coding his old tech to try and salvage it whenever it broke down.
Soon, it became apparent that Tucker was slowly lacking motivation when he started skipping classes to sleep in and started feeling anxious when he needed to clock in for shifts.
It leads to him barely getting out of bed.
He felt horrible about it, thinking his parents sacrificed so much for him only to have him throw away the opportunities they gave him, and the cycle of not being able to get out of bed would start all over again.
It was Danny who caught on, and all but begged Tucker to come to Gotham for a weekend. He even sent money over for the plane ticket.
Tucker couldn't have gotten on that plane fast enough. He arrived early on Friday since the tickets were cheaper- and Uber over to WE headquarters to pick up Danny's keys as they agreed.
That way, Tucker could sleep and rest in the apartment while Danny worked.
Danny would finish his shift and have the weekend plus Monday and Tuesday off to spend with Tucker. When he arrived, Danny was helping a school check in for a field trip, so Tucker sat down to wait.
Next to him, a kid was growling at his laptop, frankly typing and moving his fingers over the computer's touch mouse. Tucker accidentally glimpsed his screen when the kid started swearing in a different language.
It looked like a shooting game but his lag was bad. By the time the boy pressed the buttons to have his little drone move the other flying things he was chasing were flipping though the air and out of his shooting rage.
It sucked when that happened, and since he was using WE free wifi for guests, it was probably the game. The graphics were badass, though. Seemed almost real.
"Hey try updating the system" He tells the kid after seeing the boy once again lag so bad he missed his shot.
Green eyes swing to him drenched in rage. Which yeah, Tucker knows how frustrating that could be.
"Did I ask for your help!?" The boy snaps, his words lined with an upper-class accent. Made sense since he was wearing a Gotham Academy uniform like the rest of the large school group. "Why are you even looking this way, peasant?"
"No, sorry. I just noticed the lag." Tucker raised his hand, slightly amused at the peasant insult. "I thought I could fix it for you."
The boy's face spams, "You believe you have the ability?"
"Ugh sure? I can try?"
"Here. Be quick. The fate of this city's air defenses depend on it" the boy turns his lap top to him and Tucker blinks.
Okay. So fix the game. He can do that.
And he does, quickly opening the code, analyzing the control and commands , he gets it running properly in less then twenty minutes. The boy seems utterly shock but he quickly takes control of the game and shoots down all the escaping ninjas from the sky.
"Thank you." The boy says with no more tense in his shoulders. Then he closes his laptop and dissappears with the crowd of students.
Tucker thought the kid was a cute.
Danny hands him the keys not long after and he leaves.
Never was he aware of the Boy being Damian Wayne and that the game was not a game but a actual defensive drone system that was fighting off the League of Assassins.
He only finds out how important those two facts are when Danny gets a call from Tim Drake asking if he could pass along Tucker's information because the CEO wanted him on staff as soon as possible..
Both nineteen-year-olds lost their minds after getting the call, screaming at each other in ghost shrieks of glee. They called Sam to let her know- and have her lawyers look over the contact Tim Drake sent just to make sure it wasn't a big-time company trying to screw him over.
He went to an interview three days later. He faced Tim Drake, the current seventeen-year-old CEO, Leo Noir, the current head of HR, and Jessica War, the current head of computer services. They asked him many questions about himself- some of which he felt he had answered terribly- then had him take a computer test.
Tucker thought it was busy work, so he quickly breezed through it. He fixed the problem in many of the coding for various programs, adding his flare to the final product, and after thanking them for their time, went out into the lobby.
He hadn't even reached the door before Jesssica ran after him, offering him the job. Apparently, the first two problems they had him do was the busy work. Tucker had thought they were the ones to let him get comfortable with the coding program.
Like a tutorial in video games.
The other seven were actual issues; many of their latest cellphone products failed. Tucker had solved them in an hour, which had taken the actual team of coders about a month.
"Nitey one dollar and thirty-five cents an hour," Tim tells him tapping the hiring contact. "It would be eighty hours every paycheck. You can work here or at home. Full Benefits. What do you say?"
Tucker's jaw drops. "When do I start!?"
He calls his parents to tell them he will be staying in Gotham with Danny. He tries to explain what had happened but it was all so fast that he can only babble about certain parts.
They tell him not to worry about explaining because they understand how much this means to him.
His parents help pack everything for him and when he flies back for it they, offer him hugs and support. Tucker is so glad they aren't mad.
"I sort of knew it was coming," His dad laughs. "You and that Fenton boy have always been inseparable."
"I did the same thing, you know," His mom says, wiping tears from her eyes but smiling all the same. "I moved with your father states away with little to no plan when I turned twenty too. Drove your grandfather mad."
He loves them both so much. He promises to send money- disregarding their denials- and flies back to Gotham, where Danny has opened his apartment until he gets enough for his own place.
He plans on renting a house with three bedrooms, one for him, one for his office, and another for Danny, as soon as he can. He wants to pay his friend back for everything he did and Danny deserves a bigger living space.
And for once, he'll not have to worry about money!
For once, life is looking up!
(What Tucker is unaware of, is that his parents think he moved to the big city to be with his childhood best friend turned recent lover. They don't know that the money he is sending home is from his own payroll and not Danny's. They think he's a stay-at-home husband.
Tucker is also unaware that the Bats are closely watching him in case he goes rogue. They have been slowly "causally" running into him in the city and breaking into his place to check for supervillain activity.)
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fangirl-dot-com · 6 days
Text
☕️That's That Me Espresso
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Singer!Reader (fc Sabrina Carpenter) Genre: Fluff/SMAU Summary: Max had been single for the first time in almost 4 years. What do Lando and Charles do? Lightly set him up with a very popular acquaintance. They just hope he likes espresso.
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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There was a different type of electricity in the air that Max was not familiar with. Sure, every race had that adrenalinistic atmosphere that, really, he had gotten numb to. But this, this was different. He might have even gone as far as to call it a “breath of fresh air.” 
His whole body was tired, especially after a grueling race. Why the FIA decided to push the Brazil Grand Prix to the dead middle of summer? He didn’t know why. But he had said enough passive aggressive remarks about the weather. The reason they gave was to avoid the typhoons that normally showed up during the later months of the year, when the usual race was scheduled. 
The Dutchman didn’t mind. The race last year, although the weekend had been soaked, hadn’t even been canceled. Sure there was rain, but they had raced in wetter conditions before. But, he had no control over the schedule. 
If he had been in charge, the calendar would have only 10 races comprised of all historical tracks, no US races, and sprints would be cast into the nearest dumpster. 
But Max Verstappen was not in charge of the Formula 1 calendar, and he was now standing backstage to some concert that Lando and Charles had dragged him and some other drivers to. They explained that it was for their girlfriends, but Lando didn’t have a girlfriend and Max knew he and Charles genuinely liked the pop genre. 
He just never bothered to listen to specific music. He went more by the vibes the song gave, and if he liked it, he liked it. There was no reason to go deep into the discography of the artist and the albums. 
Music was just music to Max. 
Well, that was until the lights dimmed and the most beautiful person, well to Max’s opinion, walked out in almost 6-inch heels and the shortest white skirt. 
Now, Max had been single for almost three months. He had known that Kelly was drifting, but he didn’t make any attempts to draw her back in. The close to four year relationship just fizzled. 
However, he was confused when his friends celebrated the breakup. Lando had gently told him that, while Penelope was very sweet, Kelly had been using him. Charles also brought up the fact that Kelly had said that she had a “magical meeting” with him when he was 19, practically a child with how fast he had to grow up. 
The 9 year age gap pretty much put people on edge about her. 
But Max had no time to dwell on that as he watched the female dance around, pretty skirt flipping up every time she skipped on stage. Her voice echoed through the large speakers, and Max found himself head bobbing to the beat. 
When there was a brief intermission, Lando had snaked his arm around his neck. 
“So how are you liking it?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink after. The Dutchman hadn’t taken his eyes of the door where she had gone through. 
“She’s very pretty.” 
Lando snorted, making Max turn to face his friend. 
“I didn’t ask about her mate, but good to know. I can introduce you to Y/n after the concert is over if you’d like me to.” 
Max’s eyes widened. 
So that’s what your name was. He thought it was very fitting, and he could start to daydream of how the vowels and consonants would sound through his mouth. He wondered if his lisp would accidentally seep through. 
“You would?” 
Lando sighed before calling Charles over. The brunet was quick to round the other side of the two drivers, now taking up Max’s left. 
“Yeah mate?” 
Lando slapped Max on the back, making him wince a bit, muscles still sore. 
“Our race winner here seems to be a bit infatuated with Y/n.” 
Charles wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Is he now? They’d be a nice pair wouldn’t you say Lando?” 
Max tuned the last bit of their conversation out as he watched you prance out of the door you disappeared through earlier. He didn’t know what caused you to look over as you were putting in your in-ears, but you did and your eyes met his. 
You quickly blushed under the gaze of the unfamiliar blond man as your eyes darted back to the ground. You had recognized Lando to his right (your left), but the man remained a mystery to you as you began to sing the second half of your set.
You kneeled on the edge of the stage and reached out for a Brazilian flag that a fan was desperately waving around. You took the soft fabric and wrapped it around your shoulders for the rest of the evening. 
Max thought you looked like an angel. The lights reflected your blond hair perfectly, creating almost a halo around your face. He himself wanted to give your stylists a raise for picking out the perfect hair, makeup, and outfit. 
You had a big smile as you waved to the crowds after your last encore. 
“Brasil! Voce tem sido incrive! Todos voces tem meu coracao! Te amo e boa noite!” 
You even had the voice of an angel. 
And you were now walking toward their group. Max was not prepared. Thankfully Lando and Charles were as they stepped in front Max and congratulated you on the concert. Every now and then in the conversation, your eyes flitted to the blond man, who was looking everywhere but you. 
“Y/n! I don’t believe you’ve met Max yet! Max this is Y/n, and Y/n this is Max Verstappen, current world champion.” 
The last words made Charles huff a bit, only being behind Max in the points this season by a small margin. You put your hand out for a shake but Max just looked at it, stared, then looked back up. 
“You’re very pretty.” 
He wanted to slap himself in the face, but your giggles that flew out of your mouth made him want to melt into the ground. Your hand covered your mouth as you looked up at him. Even with your heals, Max was still a half a foot taller than you. You know that it’d be closer to a full foot without your shoes, which you were desperately wanting to get out of. 
“Thank you. You’re very handsome, but I guess you hear that too often.” 
He actually didn’t. Most didn’t go for his stockier build, rounded features, and flat hair. He knew that many preferred Charles’s slim waist and Lando’s boyish looks. But here you were, looking up at him like he was God’s gift to mankind. Your round doe eyes were hitting all of his buttons. 
He smirked. “Not too many, but I only remember the gorgeous ones.” 
Oh, so he could flirt. That was news to Lando and Charles as they watched the interactions nearby. 
Lando leaned over when Max fished out his phone from his pant leg almost shy at the action. “I didn’t think he had it in him. I wonder if he has ever had the chance to try to date.” 
Charles hummed. “He had a few girlfriends before Kelly. But again, they were all older. Y/n is only 22.” 
When you trailed off to go change, Max walked over to the duo with a dopey smile. 
“I think I’m in love.” 
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liked by landonorris, y/nisqueen, mothery/n, and 3,205,094 others y/nl/n brasil! you were amazing! Te amo, te amo! I will miss you all 💚💛🇧🇷
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y/nnation this concert was just chef's kiss!!
y/nisqueen the outfits, the flag, the hair - oh my gosh I love her
f1xy/n did anyone else see that tweet about the f1 drivers in attendance??
norris/n I hope that lando was there, him and y/n would be so cute
maxxy/n I think y/n and max would be so cutie tho
landonorris great show once again y/n!
y/nl/n glad that you and your friends could come see!!
teamy/n your honor I love her
Another giggle left your lips as you were driven back to your hotel. Your manager was watching you with fond eyes, happy to see you all smiley. Your last relationship had not ended well, leaving you heartbroken and depressed. But your emotions fueled you to write your best album yet.
“I’m going to guess that you’re texting you driver,” she wiggled her eyebrows at you, making you sink into the seat, phone covering your face. 
“Maybe. Mila, he’s so perfect. He’s very . . . sweet, but at the same time he’s sharp. He’s a bit like my every morning drink.” 
Mila sent you a warm smile. “Speaking of morning drinks, do you still want your espresso sent to your room at the normal time, or do you want to sleep in?” 
Your brows furrowed, mind running quickly. You opened your notes app and began typing. 
“Espresso.”
A few months passed with you and Max growing closer and closer. People online could definitely tell that the Dutchman was more smiley, but no one knew why. They could only speculate that he was in a relationship, but he hadn’t really been anywhere in the past few months that could signify a blooming relationship. 
You were up writing late when your phone buzzed, the familiar pattern letting you know that a certain blond was calling you. Your eyebrows pinched as you noticed the time. You pressed the green button before saying hello. 
“Hi schatje,” the familiar pet-name flooding the room. 
“Why are you up so late? Don’t you have a race tomorrow morning?” 
Although you were in two different countries, you and Max miraculously were in the same time zones, meaning if you were up late so was he. 
“We have the sim race this weekend.” 
“Maaxxx.” 
“Y/nnnnn, I’ve done it before. And plus, you’re also up.” 
You nibbled on your lip. “I couldn’t sleep. Lyrics are just racing around my brain.” 
“That or you had your espresso too late again.” 
You smirked as your eyes landed on the empty espresso mug on the bedside table. 
“I’m taking the silence as ‘yes Max. I had an espresso too late.’” 
Max’s favorite sound, your laugh, sounded through his phone that was resting on his simulator. The two of you had some weird humor, but you never failed to make Max laugh and neither did he. 
The sound of him shifting the gears was better than any white noise machine could be. Max tried his best to focus on his race, but the scratching of your pencil and your sporadic sighs kept him a bit distracted. 
“Would you be fine if I put a hint in my song? I like having you all to myself, but I want people to know that you make me happy.” 
Max almost virtually crashed. You never ceased to amaze him. 
“That’s fine with me liefling. I love you.” 
“I love you too.” 
y/nl/n has posted
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liked by gracieadams, y/nvideo, maxverstappen1, and 3,405,295 others y/nl/n ☕️ espresso is now yours :) let's call it the bop of the summer
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maxxy/n ayo max, why are you here so early 🤨
f1xy/n what the hell is a polar bear doing in Arlington texas
y/n.nation when she says bop of the summer, it's the bop of the summer
maxverstappen1 ☕️
y/nl/n ☕️
queeny/n what the heck is this supposed to mean?????
user204502 this song has been on repeat
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Max hadn’t know when you were going to release the song, he just knew that you were. He hadn’t even realized that it was out to the public until Charles had mentioned something. 
“Y/n’s new song is great, non? Didn’t know that you two were soft launching, but I’m happy for you two.” 
Max never ran faster than he did to get to his driver’s room to listen to it. He never thought that you’d ever write a song about him, but here it was. The title was catchy too. 
Thankfully, you were waiting for him when he got back to Monaco. The first thing he did was lean down to kiss your lips. You could never get over the feeling of his lips against yours. The broadness of his shoulders made you feel safe as he caged you in between himself and the door. 
His large hands fit perfectly against your hips as he brushed his face against your neck. Your hands gripped his shirt that was thankfully not a Red Bull polo. 
“I take it you liked the song?” you managed to get out, breathless against him. A hum vibrated against your neck, letting you know that he was pleased. 
He finally gave you a bit of space once he kissed you on his way back up. 
“Espresso?”
You giggled, head digging into his chest. “I had one almost 15 minutes ago.” 
“Of course you did.” 
There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you just stood in the walkway to his house. The place finally looked like someone was actually living in it, and not looking like an Ikea display. 
Little bits of Max were visible everywhere, now that he didn’t have to hide his stuff away in his little mancave. His suit was now on display with pictures of his various wins decorating the walls. But in between all the racing were bits of you left behind. Pictures of your stages filled in the gaps. 
But Max’s favorite bit was the circle stain of dark espresso by your side of his bed. 
“Come with me to Silverstone and later to Zandvoort.” 
You looked up at him, still not getting over the foot in height difference. Your neck had to crane for you to look him in the eyes. 
“Think about it,” Max continued. “You’re taking a small break from your tours when Silverstone happens. And then Zandvoort is the Sunday before the Netherlands concert.” 
You couldn’t say anything but yes. 
Lando was surprised to see your hand held tightly in Max’s. The last thing he knew is that you and him were texting, but he didn’t know if it went any farther than that. The Briton was happy to learn that you had been behind the Dutchman’s wide smiles between races. 
He thought you looked absolutely tiny next to Max, even in your usual heels. Lando did notice that you weren’t visible in the garage during the practices and even the race on Sunday. When it was him, Max, and Charles on the podium, he took his chances to ask. 
“Where’s your superstar?” 
Max visible brightened at the mention of you. “We’re not public yet. I think we like the privacy a bit too much.” 
Lando looked confused. “But the song?” 
He watched as Max leaned back with a laugh. “Mate, everyone thinks she’s in a relationship with either you or Sebastian of all people.” 
“Why would it be Seb?” Charles piped up, finally joining the conversation. 
“Because she sings something about calling me a honey bee. People are trying to connect that with the racing lyric and Seb’s bee keeping skills.” 
The photographers thought that they were getting good pictures of the three enjoying the post-race celebrations as they caught giant smiles and laughs. They probably couldn’t even imagine the conversation that was going on. 
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It wasn’t until Zandvoort that people started to catch glimpses of you in the paddock. You smiled widely as you stepped through the turnstile, hand clasped in Max’s. Cameras were clicking wildly, but you knew how to ignore them. 
You were here for Max and Max only. 
You had wanted to find something orange to wear, but the weather was a bit rainy and cold. Max had convinced you to wear something warm, much to your chagrin. When you had pouted earlier in the hotel room, he just leaned down and kissed your lips. 
“Hmmmm, espresso. My favorite.” 
You had rolled your eyes. “Yeah, because you were up late again. I was able to get some more work done though.” 
“Must have gotten some from you then.” 
The Red Bull driver was able to secure his home race win, putting him just behind Charles in the standings. The Ferrari driver had been driving like a madman all season, and Max had just now been able to catch up to him. However, you knew how scared he was of losing his champion title. 
But, this year, he had you to be his support. Whether he won or lost, you’d still be there. Unlike Kelly, you didn’t push your way into his life. You let him choose you when he wanted. There was no constant grabbing at his arms to pull him away from his crew. 
When Max finally made his way to you, he just brought you in close. He wouldn’t have been able to kiss you with his helmet on anyway. When he pulled back, he was surprised to see tears in your eyes. His face must have had confusion written all over it as you shook your head. 
“Happy tears. I’m so proud of you.” 
The validation he got from you meant so much more than any he ever received. As Max looked down at you from the top step of the podium, you looked up at him like he hung the sun. The Dutchman would never fall tired of your gaze. 
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y/nl/n has posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, mothery/n, verstopen33, and 4,204,938 others y/nl/n oh, he looks so cute, wrapped around my finger
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mothery/n WAS NOT EXPECTING THE HARD LAUNCH WHAT
f1xy/n thank you y/n for feeding us with boyfriend max material
verstappen33max I don't think I've seen him so smiley
maxverstappen1 💙 schatje
y/nl/n 💗 my love
y/nisqueen awwww I love them your honor
landonorris rue, when was this? 🤨
charles_leclerc me as well 😊
maxverstappen1 I think since February??
landonorris SINCE FEBRUARY???
charles_leclerc congrats!!
y/nl/n thank you charlieeeee
y/nvideo this is now my otp for the rest of my life 🥺
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A week later, it was Max’s turn to stare at you the way that you stared at him. The little pink number that you were wearing was turning Max’s thoughts into something more that just hugs and kisses. But, he put those away (maybe for later) and just continued to enjoy the set that you had chosen. 
He couldn’t believe that he was back in the same place that he had been eight months ago. But, there he was, still as starstruck as he had been. He loved to see you skip around, skirt still flinging around and heels still adorning your feet. 
As the evening was closing, he just couldn’t wait to bring you back to the hotel to love on you, even more than he had already been doing. He wished time could speed up just a bit because he knew you were it for him. 
There was a before you, a during you, and he never wanted there to be an after you. 
He, along with the rest of the crowd and fellow drivers, got confused when you didn’t leave the stage after the last song. But, as slow piano music left the giant speakers, Max immediately knew what was happening. 
In the past couple of months, you had been holed up in your studio, really only seeing Max whenever he dropped off lunch or when you came back to his house. And many times, he was surprised to see Charles there as well, dressed in comfy clothes and glasses on his face. 
Piano sheet music always covered every inch of studio space when the Monegasque showed up, meaning that you were in the middle of creating a masterpiece. And, Max got to listen to multiple different melodies that the two of you put together. However, he wasn’t allowed to listen to any of the final demos which eventually got turned into songs. 
Tears pricked his eyes when he heard you explain yourself to the crowd. You had turned a bit to face Max as you talked. Your message for him more than the crowd. 
Your smile shined in the bright spotlights. 
“This next song is one that I wrote for a very special person in my life. You all know who it is so I won’t embarrass him.” 
Max could never be embarrassed by you. 
“I call it Lover, because that is what he is to me. My one and only love. Max, my espresso, I love you dearly.” 
And so dearly, he loved you too. 
y/nl/n has posted
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liked by dior, maxverstappen1, y/nfan, and 4,205,893 others y/nl/n a song for my lover? how about an album 💖
lover is now yours on all streaming platforms
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y/nfan I THINK I BEAT MAX TO THE LIKES
y/nfan never mind...
y/n.nation the new song and now new album, max please keep keeping her happy
charles_leclerc glad to be a part of the album y/n!
y/nl/n thank you Charles! merci beaucoup 🫶
maxverstappen1 my lover 💖
y/nl/n my one and only 💙
landonorris ok, when do I get an album??
y/nl/n I can set you up with one of my friends?
ynsmax and we all say "thank you max!"
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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mariinaworld · 22 days
Text
PORNSTAR
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Pornstar! Natasha Romanoff x F! Reader
Summary: After a drunken night at a nightclub, you discover that you have signed a contract that will change your life.
WC: 6,2k (sorry)
Warnings: SMUT, masturbation, riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex. Nat has a penis.
MINORS DNI MASTERLIST N.R
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
A/n: I'm really thinking about writing a part.2. idk
Your head felt like it was going to explode, as you tried to take another breath without having the urge to stick your entire stomach out.
Why did you drink so much like that?
Nice question, Y/n, No good answers 
You open your eyes again, feeling the fluorescent light in the bathroom slowly burn your corneas. But it was necessary. You had already thrown out everything you had drunk the night before, an your stomach felt raw, your throat was burning and you were afraid that if you tried to vomit again, blood would start coming out of my mouth.
You slowly stand up and flush the toilet, looking in the mirror for the first time that day. Holy shit, you looked terrible! Your eyeliner and mascara had created a black bag under your eyes, your red lipstick was smeared around your mouth, making you hate this twenty-four hour crap.
Well, your appearance was shit both on the outside and inside, his whole life was shit.
“End of story for you, Y/n!” You mutter to yourself, looking in the mirror.
You decide to stand there, seeing the image of your own destruction, it wouldn't do any good. Then you remove all your makeup and brush your teeth. Soon after, she takes off the short dress she was still wearing and goes under the shower, feeling the cold water hurt every pore of her hot skin. But it was necessary, you had to get rid of that nasty hangover
After showering, you leave the bathroom, finding Wanda lying on the sofa in your room. She was as bad as you were, but that made you smile a little. You really had the best friend in the world
After getting dressed, you take two headache pills and head back to your room, refusing any thoughts of eating since your stomach was still wanting you to look like you were sick. You lay down on the bed and close your eyes, feeling the slow and steady throbbing in your head, as unconsciousness took over you again.
“Let’s wake up, Princess .” Oh no... Wanda was jumping on top of her bed, making her sleepy body bounce lightly on the mattress.Hurry up, Y/n, we have to talk about last night, you naughty girl.”
You open your eyes and look at her, you sit up and let out a long sigh, feeling your head throbbing much less than before.
“Naughty? Why?" You ask leaning against the headboard. She sat on the bed and looked at you, giggling. Okay, that was an inside joke and you were lost there. “Speak quickly, I don’t have my whole life!” You say feeling a little nervous. “Such a bad mood, dear... Is that because of the hangover?” Wanda asked, laughing. You just roll your eyes and wait. “Ah, be serious, Y/n... Are you going to say you don’t remember last night?”
“I remember, of course. I remember stuffing my face with everything alcoholic. In fact, never let me do that again, please!” You say, making a face as you have slight memories. “Okay, what about the rest?” “What’s left?” You ask again
She looked at me with her smile slowly fading.
“The contract and everything Y/n…”
“What contract?” Okay now you think things got confusing
Just as Wanda was about to open her mouth to respond, her cell phone rang loudly, making you both jump in bed. You picked up your cell phone from the bedside table, seeing the unknown number on the screen. With a frown, you answer 
Call on...
“Miss Y/n?” you hear a female voice. "Yes, who is it?" You ask with a frown.
“Hello darling, this is Carol Danvers from PornHub. Do you remember me?"
PornHub... What the fuck was that? Upon hearing her silence, Carol spoke again. “We met yesterday at the Dance Hot Club nightclub... You were accompanied by your friend and we talked for a few hours. Do you remember me now?”
“Um...I remember, of course.” You let your voice sound as polite as possible. But it was obvious that you didn't remember. "What do you want?" You ask feeling a strange feeling. “I wanted to know when we can meet to schedule your first scene.”
"My first... What?”
“Your first scene, baby. With our biggest star of the moment, Natasha Romanoff.”
“I don't... Who is Natasha Romanoff? Scene... I don't understand anything, Mrs. Danvers.” You say, just wanting to know what that crazy woman was getting out of that conversation.
“Just Carol, darling. Anyway, we signed a contract last night. You were so excited to record with Natasha. I don’t think you remember everything.”
You caught a glimpse of Wanda getting up and picking up the small wallet I had brought the night before. She took out a white paper from inside her, which was folded and crumpled, picked it up and opened it, pasting it in front of you.
“Um... One second, Carol!” you ask, taking the paper.
Okay, it really was a contract, you think to yourself. A contract with a porn film production company. It was written that the new hire would be paid for each scene, she would act with the actor/actress that the producer chose. Before each scheduled scene, a blood test would be done by both actors, and it was essential that the contractor had birth control and proved this to the producer. The contract had the duty to compensate both parties, if something went wrong, all labor rights would be fulfilled, as soon as the contract was signed by both parties (contractor and employee).
Everything became even more absurd when at the end of the sheet you saw Carol's signature as contractor and your signature as contractor. Wanda's signature was there as a witness to the deal.
“What the hell is that?" You think out loud. Hearing Carol's laugh on the other end of the line. She was having a lot of fun at her expense, it seemed.
“Honey, I see you’re a little confused. Dance Hot Club is my nightclub. She is linked to PornHub, which is my production company. Few people are aware of this connection, I believe you are one of the many people who didn't even imagine it. It turns out that I'm quite observant, I love seeing all my regulars and whoever I think has potential for a film, I call to talk to me. You have potential and I know it. I talked to you and you accepted. You signed the contract and now we have to schedule not only the scene, but also the blood tests to see if you have any STDs and the birth control test, which you said you have.”
Your mind stopped at the part where she said you had the potential to be a porn actress. Was that woman crazy?
“No fucking way!” You say it out loud, regretting it later. “I mean… I’m not going to make a scene!”
“Y/n, you signed the contract. I don’t know if you have it in your hands, but there is a point where it shows the value stipulated for breaking it.” she said in a serious tone.
You take the contract and search it from top to bottom, finding a paragraph that she had said. One hundred thousand dollars.
That was all you would have to pay if you broke the damn contract.
"You are crazy? One hundred thousand dollars in breach of contract?”
“It’s my rights, darling.”
"You can not do that! You... You took advantage of a moment when I was fragile and completely drunk! I can sue you, you know that?”
"Of course. Y/n, you might be a little high, but I have nothing to do with that, honey. The contract was signed and that's what matters. When can we…”
You hung up 
You wanted to kill yourself!
“Is there any way you can stop pacing from one side to the other? It’s making me dizzy.”  Wanda says 
“How did you let me sign such rubbish? You are crazy?" You say almost shouting. “How did you let me do that?!”
“Now, Y/n, it’s not the end of the world... It’s just a scene with the hottest star in the porn world!” You look at Wanda confused, you didn't imagine she would meet this Natasha and you have no idea who she is.
In the end, you and Wanda spend the rest of the day watching interviews, reading about life and the main thing, seeing how Natasha acts in front of the cameras and holy God, you freeze. She was nothing like you imagined, the redhead's beauty certainly exceeded any expectations you could create, one of them was, Natasha has a penis, It should really shock you but somehow you're more turned on by it. In the video you are watching now, Natasha punches another actress firmly, making her scream with pleasure while at the height of her orgasm, Since Natasha has already made her cum three times in the same video, is this possible? When the video ends, you release the breath you were holding during the entire video. Wanda looks at you with a “you lucky girl” look but also with a “I feel sorry for you this is over” look.
The only thing that goes through your head is that you won't make it. But you also think that a hundred thousand dollars is way beyond what you can afford, so there's only one option left. Picking up the phone again you dial the number that called you an hour ago.
“Hey Carol… Let’s get this over with.”
Time Skip
PornHub was located in a luxurious building in downtown Los Angeles and, from the outside, it looked like just another one of those steel and glass buildings. The atmosphere in the hall does not represent in any way what was happening inside those high floors and you admit that you were curious not to come across a screen with pornographic images, or with various sexual objects displayed on the walls.
A smiling blonde woman welcomed you and instructed you two catching the elevator and go straight to the twentieth floor, where Carol 's office was. Wanda was completely anxious and you were increasingly irritated as you pushed your sunglasses closer and closer to your eyes. You just wanted to get rid of the whole situation.
On the twentieth floor, another smiling blonde accompanied you to Carol's office, which was decorated entirely in shades of white and beige. Well, in her office reality hit her in the face, while several paintings with covers of films produced by the producer adorned the walls and some awards shone in shiny gold on the shelves.
“Y/n, it’s good to see you. I love punctual people.” she smiled and pointed to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, darlings. Would you like to drink something?”
You looked at Wanda and she shook her head, as did you. With a wave, Carol allowed the smiling blonde to leave her room.
“So... Did you bring everything I asked for?”
You, trying hard not to roll your eyes, opened your bag and took out the white envelopes you had brought with you. She took them and took their exams, calmly evaluating them.
“Perfect, Y/n, just like you knew it would be!” she smiled even more. “Honey, you used to be more talkative.”
“I’m mentally training myself to be able to moan enough in your film.” You say smiling ironically.
A loud laugh invaded the entire office, while a door on his right side opened. Natasha Romanoff.
She was beautiful…
“What an incredible sense of humor, Carol. I love girls like that!” Natasha said, without wiping the smile off her face. “I’m sorry, ladies, I was in the bathroom and I couldn’t help but overhear.” approaching, she stopped next to you and held out her hand. “Natasha Romanoff. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/n. I was curious to know who the girl was that was giving my dear friend headaches.”
“Y/n.” You say shaking the redhead's hand quickly. But she surprised you by kissing your hand lightly. “It was not my intention to give anyone headaches. If your friend had followed my suggestion, none of this would have happened.”
She looked you up and down, a crooked smile taking over her lips. Her mouth suddenly went dry and, holy shit, you felt her intimacy throb.
“Good thing she didn’t follow your suggestion.” She smiled completely and turned around, stopping next to a completely open-mouthed Wanda. “And who would you be?”
“Wanda Maximoff, um... Just Wanda.” She said, giving a huge smile.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Wanda.” Natasha said and walked away, pulling out the chair and sitting next to you.
“Well, now that my two actresses are together, we can discuss everything more clearly.” She said, smiling slightly. “I know about Natasha’s objections, now I want to know your objections Y/n.”
“My... What?.” You ask confused.
“Objections, Detka... What do you accept or not do…” Natasha says looking firmly at you.
“Ahh…” you mumble.
What did you agree to do? What did you not agree to do? Damn, you didn't know how to do that!
"I will help you." Natasha said, catching his attention. “Anal sex?”
"Never did it. And I certainly don’t want to face a bunch of people!” You say, frowning. Just the idea made you feel sick.
“Okay, Carol is writing everything down.” She said, looking back at you. “Giving and receiving oral sex?”
Holy shit, what an uncomfortable situation you think.
You're not shy, but talking to a woman I've never met in your life about whether you give or receive oral sex is too much for you. But everything is fine… A single scene, and all of this would be buried deep in your memory!
"Yes." You mutter, wanting to look away, but simply not being able to, Natasha had you completely trapped.
"Excellent." she smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Any problems with touching your body or touching my body somewhere…?” You just shake your head no.
“Well, I guess that's all. Are you free tomorrow, Y/n?”
“To... record the scene?” Carol stated, shaking her head. "I am…"
"Perfect! Ten o’clock in the morning here, right?” You agree, letting out a sigh as you stand up.
You shake hands formally and before you can do the same to Natasha, she takes your hand and kisses it again. Come on, was she charming with all the women she worked with? You wonder.
Not that it was any of your business, of course.
“I'm looking forward to tomorrow, Detka." she smiled and shook his hand. "See you tomorrow"
"See you tomorrow " looking at her one last time, before turning your back and leaving her presence, which, in a way, tormented you and made your panties damp.
Natasha could define you in a single word: hot.
Beautiful, full mouth, a delicious ass and breasts that were certainly natural. Not to mention your charisma and incredible sense of humor.
Natasha was sure that you would make a great duo and I couldn't wait to be on the scene with you below her, or on top, any position 
Natasha parks her motorcycle in the company's garage.
“Fifteen minutes early? You’re always punctual Nat, but fifteen minutes early surprises me.” said Carol when she saw Natasha getting out of the elevator.
She had a smile on the corner of her lips and her eyebrow was arched. That woman knew Natasha very well and that was terrible.
“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll pretend I don’t know why you arrived early. Y/n is in dressing room number 8, just so you know.”
Carol winked at Natasha and walked away without giving the redhead a chance to respond. Natasha knew that you were a little anxious about the scene you were going to do in a little while, but what woman on earth wouldn't be? With a smile playing at the corner of her lips, the redhead heads to the dressing room and knocks on the door, receiving a "come in" in response.
You were wearing a white robe and your brown hair was loose, looking more casual. Natasha suppresses the urge to look her up and down and enters, closing the door behind you.
“I came to see how you’re feeling, Detka.” Natasha says, walking over to you and sitting next to her on the couch.
“How kind of you.” You rolled your eyes, making the redhead laugh. “I don’t understand the joke, Miss. Romanoff.”
“Just, Natasha, Y/n. And the grace is in you. Relax, okay? I don’t bite… Unless you want to, of course.” Natasha says, looking straight into her eyes.
You bit your lip, something Natasha is sure you at least knew you were doing. She affected you, and that made the redhead very happy.
"You are nervous. I want you to know that you don't have to stay. I know this is very new for you, I know you wouldn't want to be here, but now that you are, try to enjoy the moment.”
Natasha approaches you and takes your hands, kissing them one at a time. “I won’t leave room for you to think about where you are, or your surroundings, Y/n. When I'm inside you, or touching you, kissing you, there will be just you and me. You’re going to have to trust me.”
"Trust in you? I at least know you, Natasha.” You muttered, looking away from the redhead's.
“But this is the opportunity to get to know each other. Look at me, Y/n.” you turned and looked at her suspiciously and Natasha fought not to laugh. “You are a beautiful woman, sexy as hell and you will do great. Trust me and you will come out of here floating. I’m going to make you cum, babe… Countless times.”
You looked at the redhead intensely and soon after, a loud, sarcastic laugh escaped your lips, as you took your hands away from hers and placed one in front of your mouth.
“Are you going to make me cum? Seriously, Natasha! Do you really think that all women in the world are stupid enough to believe that a girl cums in a porn movie? Or to the point of believing what you said in that interview, that you always make a woman orgasm?” You shake your head, still laughing. “I'm not like your... Fans, or whatever you call women who almost lick the ground you walk on. I don’t believe this ridiculous story, okay?”
“Um... So you've been researching me?” Natasha asks, leaning back on the couch. “That's great, I really love acting alongside or meeting, girls who know who they're dealing with. This means, Y/n, that what you read is completely true. I have a lot of baby baggage and that baggage has brought me a lot, a lot of experience.” Natasha gets up, but before turning to leave, she stops in front of you and leans in, making you feel her breath on your face. “I'm willing to show you all my experience when you're beneath me, while I fuck you and make you moan my name loud and clear.”
The redhead felt you catch your breath and she knew at that moment that you weren't such an easy woman to look at. And all of this was only making the redhead's lust for you grow in a way that she couldn't control.
Natasha's words still echoed in your mind, as you looked at yourself in the mirror and felt a flash pop next to you. Photo after photo was taken of you, while wearing lacy shorts and a blue blouse, clothes that showed enough, and still left gaps and gaps for women's imagination who roamed the internet in search of explicit naughty.
There were only a few minutes left before entering the scene and you felt your skin crawling every second because of your nervousness that was exceeding all your expectations of remaining calm. 
“Y/n, are you ready?” you hear Carol's voice.
You look at her and nod quickly, following her to the film set. The scene would be "romantic". At least that's what Carol implied when she explained what would happen. Natasha and you would pretend to be a couple. They would be sleeping and then she would "wake up" and start touching and kissing you, until you woke up and the whole act would happen.
You were seriously considering the possibility of sleeping forever.
Before you got on set, Carol gave you a long-sleeved shirt to wear. The blouse covered your waist, but in the bust it was so wide that it almost left your breasts exposed. These typical pieces of cloth that actresses wear in pornographic films, not to say that they were completely naked.
When we finally walked onto the set, you looked around and saw that you were in an all-white room, decorated with little touches of brown and gold. There was a large queen size bed in the middle of the room, with a white comforter and pillows.
It looked like a normal room and you were relieved that you didn't have to record those scenes where you're a naughty secretary who has sex with your married boss.
You saw Natasha talking to a blond man on the other side of the set and Carol called her over. She was wearing white pants, a blouse that left her belly exposed and... That's it.
That was it and she was deliciously sexy.
She is very beautiful and for a moment, in all the anger and frustration of being there, you had forgotten about it.
“Are you ready, darling?”
“I'm always ready, you know.” Natasha smiled and came close to you, putting her arm around her shoulder. Her body was warm and she smelled incredibly. “And you, Detka... Ready?”
"No. But I have to do this, so…” You shrugged, trying to convey an indifference that you were far from feeling.
Natasha laughed and stood in front of you, while Carol spoke to her again about something that her mind simply didn't want to decipher. Your entire brain was commanding your eyes, and respecting her wishes, you took a good look at Natasha, looking for an erection that wasn't there.
I mean, don't porn actors come into the scene with hard penises? You think.
"Excellent!" Carol said louder, catching her attention. She turned to everyone and clapped twice, making the entire set go silent. “Guys, is everyone ready?” after a unison yes, she smiled. “Perfect, let’s get started!”
ACTION!!!
An instrumental song with a sensual rhythm began to play softly throughout the set, while you kept your eyes closed and felt Natasha's rhythmic breathing on your neck. Her fingers were intertwined with yours, while her hands rested on your stomach.
The two of you really looked like a couple and, with a lot of effort, you managed to stop the rapid beating of your heart. Everything was silent except for the music and a few minutes later, you feel Natasha move next to you. You feel the mattress sink a little and you think she sat up, while you struggled not to move your eyelids.
The redhead lifted your hand, intertwined with yours, and kissed it, before releasing it and began kissing your lap, moving up to your neck, where she gave it a lick that made you shiver.
“Open your eyes, Detka…” Natasha murmured so softly, you thought you were hearing things, before she bit your earlobe.
You wince all over because of the unexpected bite and open your eyes slowly, trying your best to convey that you were actually sleeping, when everyone else knew it was a lie.
Natasha's face hovered over you, and she rubbed her nose against yours before touching my lips gently, her hand caressing your entire face. It felt like a touch of pity on his lips, until she deepened the kiss, slowly slipping her tongue into his mouth. You feel every nerve ending inside you go on alert as you kiss back and thread your hands through her soft red hair.
You couldn't tell what was really happening, or answer why your body was responding to hers so quickly, because your brain made a direct connection with the lower part, while you felt Natasha's hands groping your breast through the thin blouse you were wearing. Your body was hot and her tongue circled your mouth in a hurry, giving you no chance to think about what was happening around you.
Or if there was someone around you.
With dexterity, she sat on top of you, at waist height and placed her hands open on top of your belly. Her gaze only left yours to follow the path your hands took, lifting your shirt until she quickly took it off you. You had to fight hard to suppress a sigh when she bit her lip with an explicit and naughty desire written in her expression.
“Beautiful…” moaned the redhead, as her fingers closed around your nipple and squeezed it making it hard for her.
With a smile on the corner of her lips, she passed the palm of her hand over her engorged peak and an eager moan escaped your lips, when the sensation made a direct connection with her clitoris. You weren't a virgin, by God, of course not! So why the hell was his body responding to a porn star's thrusts?
Why were your panties so damp, that the wet feeling between your legs was becoming agonizing? And she still hadn't done anything! Nothing compared to what your son-of-a-bitch ex-boyfriend had to do to get you aroused in the slightest.
You wanted answers, you really did, but at that moment it was impossible to find them. Especially when the redhead bent down and ran the tip of her tongue over your nipple, looking straight into her eyes.
“Look at me, Y/n... I want your eyes on me, I want you to watch me while I suck your divinely delicious breasts!” muttered the redhead softly again, and you squirmed as you mentally asked yourself why she spoke so quietly.
She smiled sweetly at you and bit your nipple hard enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Holy shit, since when do the hairs on the back of your neck stand up? How damn hot was that?
A loud moan left her lips and she took the opportunity to suck your nipple hard and open your legs to place herself between them. Something hard, big and warm settled right over your clit, and Natasha moved, making you realize that all of it was her cock on top of you, covered only by the thin fabric of the cloth pants she wore. You feel your intimacy pulsate, as she cups your breasts in her hands and sucks them quickly, jumping from one nipple to the other, and moving on top of you, rubbing her member against your clit
Unconsciously, you began to move your waist, needing, needing just a little more friction. She smiled at you and nibbled on your breasts once again, before moving her mouth down your body, running her warm tongue over your belly, but you can't make a sound when you realize where it would go with all that descent down your belly, hips and waist.
With her lips moist and open, she walked along the inside of your thigh, while her ring finger touched you in circles on top of my mound of Venus. You close your eyes and feel two licks on your crotch, forcing you to take a deep breath. It was just going to be oral sex, you knew that, so why the hell were you so nervous?! And so damn excited?!
You didn't know how to answer.
I don't think you would even know how to respond to your name, when Natasha pulled your clitoris into her own lips with a single, precise suck.
An electric shock spread through your veins, while a rush of adrenaline made you jump onto the bed and look at her. Natasha had her green eyes glazed over your face, telling you with just one look to keep looking at her.
As if you were capable of doing anything other than watching her as she sucked your clit into her own mouth without any mercy towards you, spreading a hitherto unknown pleasure throughout your body. A loud roar escaped your throat as she released your pulsing nerve and circled your entrance with the tip of her tongue.
Your hips immediately began to match her rhythm, as loud moans escaped your lips. Everything was summed up in that moment. There was nothing around you, nothing capable of making you stop, nothing capable of making Natasha stop.
“Delicious... Completely delicious.” The redhead smiled, kneeling on the bed and reached out to you. “Give me your hand, hmm?”
You look at her and without even thinking twice, you extend your hand, placing it over hers.She leaned in just a little and licked the tip of her index finger, then lowered her hand and placed it on your mound of Venus.
“Touch yourself. I want to see your finger playing with that beautiful pussy, babe…” whispered the redhead 
Sure, it was obvious that you masturbated, but you did it in the comfort of your home, in the privacy of your room, on your bed. Not among a bunch of people, because touching your own body is something... Too intimate to be shared like that.
But you were so excited by her gaze, by the volume her erection was causing, that you only realized you had obeyed her when a moan escaped your lips, your index and middle fingers circled your clitoris with impressive speed, while Natasha looked at you fascinated.
“That…” the redhead said softly again, now pulling up her blouse and revealing her large, wonderfully juicy breasts and pulling the string that held her pants at her waist.
In less than a second, her giant erection was in front of you. Her penis was even bigger in person, it was really... It was really big. 
The redhead's member passed her own navel, the veins were fully dilated, the glans was red and shining with pre-cum liquid.
But Natasha had such great self-control, that at least it seemed like she was that excited.
“No, babe... Don't stop...” she murmured in a more audible tone, placing her left hand over her fingers, while her right hand began to touch her cock from top to bottom, slowly..
She made a face of pleasure and encouraged you to continue touching yourself. You were absorbed into your bubble again, forgetting the world around you. Your moans mixed and you felt your insides tighten, your orgasm close, your body screaming for release. You were almost there, when Natasha suddenly removed her finger from where it was and fell into your mouth, surrounding her clitoris and putting three fingers inside you opening, finding your G-spot in less than a second.
Holy shit, no one has ever stimulated you so much. You tried to hold on, to endure the pleasure, to make it last, but it wasn't possible. Your hips moved automatically, your cum being released one after the other to that strangely hot woman, who had given you the strongest orgasm of your entire life.
“I want more… Give me more.” Natasha roared with her mouth on your intimacy, going back to sucking you vigorously.
Could you even breathe, and did she want you to cum more? The worst part is that her body no longer responded to you, yes to her. Only to the redhead's stimuli. She spoke, sucked and you came again, your intimacy pulsing so much that it hurt, your clitoris sent electric shocks through your body, your leg squeezed it, because you wanted to close it and it just wouldn't let you!
“Natasha, please, please!” You whimper, squirming.
But she didn't stop. You feel and see her mischievous smile, her tongue out, just the tip, surrounding your clitoris with irritating slowness. Your body jumped off the bed and you came again, your liquid ending up directly on the older woman's tongue. Tears escaped your eyes and you were ready to beg her to stop, when she just placed a light kiss on your clit and hovered over you, touching your face with your fingertips.
“Oh, Y/n…” she murmurs softly, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry, Detka… I still have more orgasms for you.”
You open your mouth to try to say something, but breathing was the only thing you knew how to do at the moment. Natasha smiled once again and brushed her lips over hers.
“Look at me and feel, just look at me.”
Even if you wanted to, you would never be able to take your eyes off hers. Natasha trapped you in a black captivity, and she kept you there, without showing anything, until you felt it. The tip of her member passed from your clitoris to its opening, the sex becoming luscious with the two liquids, then the glans began to make room. She was big, and she was gentle, coming in slowly, little by little.
You sigh with pleasure as she continued in her absurd self-control, totally focused on your gaze, thrusting and thrusting into you, stretching you so much that there was a point when you thought there was nowhere else for it to go. But she surprised you, rolling around and making you move with her, sliding further inside you until her pelvis touched your clitoris.
“Tight, hot, delicious... This pussy was made to be eaten by me, Y/n. Fate just gave us a little push.” murmured the redhead, starting to thrust into you.
Her member moved in and out at a pace that gradually increased. Her cock hit every tiny nerve inside you, never in your entire life had you felt so complete having sex with someone. No one had ever hit all those points she was hitting. Your pussy contracts around Natasha's cock, massaging her and receiving all the pleasure in return.
This woman was made to fuck you...
“Faster…” You ask in a moan, letting your hands run down the older woman’s back.
She smiled, and suddenly, turned around on the bed, leaving you on top. With my hands on your waist, Natasha started to push you up and down and soon found a rhythm that gave both of you pleasure. Your orgasm was close again, as you saw her bite her lips and let out soft moans. In this case, you were the scandalous one and your screams became louder when you came again, bouncing on the thick and oversized member, which occupied you completely.
Without letting you stop, Natasha pulled you by the back of your head and kissed your mouth, holding you with one hand. Supporting herself with her feet, she started to thrust inside you again, making you moan into her lips.
By God, you were too sensitive, and you were about to cum again.
“N-Natasha...I'll go again, I'll go...” you murmured against the redhead's lips, but your voice came out louder than a simple murmur.
“Come on then, Detka... Come for me.” Natasha practically growled, thrusting faster, tirelessly.
You let yourself go again, losing your ability to reason, while your body shook and your cum wet the redhead's dick inside you. You went too limp, as you only realized that Natasha had laid you down on the bed, when you saw her body hover over you again. With her lower lip between her teeth, Natasha rolled inside you, pulling you to an orgasm you could never achieve. Being a good connoisseur of the female body, she just continued to thrust, faster and faster, making you understand that she was in search of her own pleasure. You smile at her and touch her breasts, squeezing her tender nipples, making her throw her head back and moan loudly.
You missed touching a woman's body, it's much better than a man's. Smooth, soft, the most pleasant flesh to squeeze, the smell, the touch... Oh, especially the touch.
Romanoff moaned louder for the second time and thrust into you so hard that your lower belly wobbled.
“Fuck, Y/n...fuck me...like this!” she moaned loudly, still looking you in the eyes.
You tighten around her, putting pressure on her member and then, she came. Her hot, thick jets hit you with full force, wetting you all inside and she didn't stop. She continued to moan and scream and call your name like a clamor. After a few minutes, she calmed down and leaned closer to you, placing kisses on your breasts, your neck and finally, your mouth, as it comes out inside you and you feel your liquids spilling onto the mattress. You allow yourself to feel her tongue caress you tenderly, your hands roam her body and, for a moment, you imagine that you were a couple who had just made love…
CUT!!!
"Damn, perfect! Cut!”
And then, Carol's voice entered her ears. Natasha jumps away and everything around her gains image and sound, while reality takes over you again. 
Yes, you had just filmed a porn film with the most famous star of all time.
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alltheirdamn · 2 months
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Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)
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Chap. 1 : Your Name
Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')
Masterlist
PROLOGUE
You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.
 Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway. 
The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion. 
Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes. 
You’d never love again. 
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“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.
By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.
“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road. 
You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays. 
Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life. 
Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love. 
Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake. 
“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded. 
“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.
“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”
You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.
“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”
Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.
“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”
“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”
“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”
You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved. 
The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough. 
Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil. 
It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better. 
Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long? 
You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again. 
**
You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement. 
“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.
“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.
You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.
“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.
Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks. 
“Really, Maria. You do.”
“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.
Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.
“Is that her dad?” You asked.
He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone. 
“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”
“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.
Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.
“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”
“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.
You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled.  And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance. 
And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest. 
“What was that?” Maria chirped. 
You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you. 
“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”
“It looked like something.”
You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn��t stand it any longer. 
“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you. 
Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles. 
“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”
“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”
You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.
“Miss Smith!”
“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. 
With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes. 
“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked. 
“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it. 
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally. 
“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.
“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement. 
“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”
His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.
“Joel,” he insisted.
You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?
Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home. 
The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.
The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit. 
You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.
“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.
“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”
“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.
“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.
Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.
“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.
“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”
“It’s my fault. I can fix it.” 
You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true. 
“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”
He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before. 
“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled.
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.
“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”
Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”
His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours. 
“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”
“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”
“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”
There was a lot of harm in it. 
You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly. 
“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.
You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.
“Yes, Mr. Miller?”
“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there. 
“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.
Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous. 
“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”
“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”
His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in. 
“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.
“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.
“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.
“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”
That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.
“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”
“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch. 
“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”
“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”
“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”
Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.
It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget. 
The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.
“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”
“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk. 
“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated. 
“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”
She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents. 
“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.
“I don’t know,” you sighed.
“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”
There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.
You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out. 
The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see. 
Joel Miller.
He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here. 
“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.
You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing. 
“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”
She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip. 
“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”
“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”
“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.
You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.
Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.
You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—
“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.
“Mr. Miller,” you said.
“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased. 
“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”
Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body. 
“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.
“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips. 
“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”
“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”
“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned. 
“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer. 
“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?” 
Was he… flirting with you? 
You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment. 
“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care. 
“What other flavors do you like?” 
He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.  
“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.
Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered. 
“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered. 
“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”
“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered. 
Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency. 
Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality. 
“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”
Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away. 
“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.
“How do you know? Were you watching me?”
“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?” 
He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends. 
“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach. 
“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked. 
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.
You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.
“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.
Joel peered around you and huffed loudly. 
“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”
“He doesn’t look too happy.”
“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.
Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.
“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”
“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.
“Wait!” Joel called out.
“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”
You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built. 
You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot. 
“Fuck,” you groaned.
As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.
“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained. 
“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you. 
The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer. 
“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”
Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins. 
“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud. 
Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.
“No,” he whispered softly.
Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door. 
“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. 
The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car. 
“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear. 
“I’m—.”
“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”
He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner. 
“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck. 
“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”
You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior. 
“Get in.”
His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar. 
You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness. 
Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile. 
“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light. 
You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”
“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”
A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably. 
“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”
You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction. 
“This is me,” you sniffled. 
“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?���
“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”
“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.
“It’s all formalities.”
“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”
Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.
“Can I just know one thing?” He asked. 
You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.
“What’s your name?”
Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.
695 notes · View notes
clusterbuck · 13 days
Note
being unable to keep their eyes off of them please??
Eddie wants to get the hell out of here.
He feels kind of bad about it, because Bobby and Athena throw a great barbecue, and any other day of the week he’d love to grab a beer and settle in for as long as they’ll have him. Any other day of the year, really—
Just not the same day Buck kissed him.
He’d always imagined that if he ever scraped enough resolve together to try something with Buck, it would happen in the heat of the moment. After a close call on a rescue, maybe, or at a bar after a shift sometime, when he has just enough alcohol in him to push past the nagging doubts in his mind.
He’d always imagined that if anything ever happened, it would be because he took that first step. He could, when he was feeling hopeful, imagine Buck would be into it, but it had never even crossed his mind that Buck might want him enough to be the one to cross the invisible line between friends and something more. 
Only—
Two hours ago, he stood in the firehouse parking lot and watched Buck pace and forth in the artificially bright glow of a streetlamp for all of thirty seconds before drawing to a stop right in front of him, toe to toe across the faded outline of a parking space. 
“I’m going to do something,” Buck said, the warmth of his exhale ghosting across Eddie’s skin. “And you can tell me if I’m wrong. But—” he hooked one finger in the belt loop of Eddie’s jeans, tugging slightly, and the movement danced like lightning down Eddie’s spine. 
“—I don’t think I’m wrong.” 
And he tugged on the belt loop again, pulling Eddie closer into his space, and pressed his mouth to Eddie’s.
It seemed to last a lifetime, and it was over far too soon. Buck pulled back, careful, drawing a ragged breath, and Eddie leaned into chase him and found Buck grinning against his lips.
“Not wrong, then?” Buck murmured, and it took Eddie a moment to remember what Buck had said just before.
“Definitely not wrong,” he breathed. The words were half-lost in Buck’s mouth but he must have understood them anyway, because he laughed, bright and clear, before pushing Eddie up against the car behind him to kiss him again.
It was only when Buck’s phone rang, vibrating in his pocket so that Eddie felt it against his own thigh, that they remembered the barbecue. And that they’d promised to bring ice.
So now Eddie’s here, and for the first time he can remember he desperately wants to leave. 
He and Buck hadn’t really talked about it, so he’s trying to act normal. Which is to say he’s trying to act like he doesn’t want to walk across Bobby and Athena’s backyard and grab Buck by the collar to drag him in for another kiss. Or to demand what the fuck it means. 
He would describe himself as moderately successful. 
But in Eddie’s defence, if the rest of them knew the situation he doesn’t think they could blame him for the way his eyes keep getting drawn to Buck no matter where he is, like the universe is shining a spotlight on him. It’s not his fault Buck’s laugh lights up the room and he can’t help but look.
It’s not his fault that Buck catches him looking, sometimes, and smiles a smile that says he’s thinking about what happened in the parking lot. 
A smile that says he’s thinking about doing it again.
And it—well, maybe it is his fault when he grins back, his face trying to settle on something somewhere between wanting and bashful, but there are extenuating circumstances. He is, after all, only one man. 
Overall, Eddie’s pretty sure nobody could blame him for the fact that he wants to get the hell out of here.
Just then, Hen sidles up to where he’s leaning against the kitchen island and settles in next to him, mirroring his position and crossing her arms. 
“You should take your man home,” she says. 
Eddie flushes, and she laughs.
“You’re not being particularly subtle,” she says. “Either of you. I don’t know what happened exactly—” she raises a hand when Eddie tries to open his mouth “—and I don’t need to know. But you should take him home before it happens again on Bobby and Athena’s patio.” 
Eddie’s face feels so warm he’s surprised he can’t see cartoon heat lines wafting off his cheeks. 
Hen laughs again, gentler this time. “No one’s judging you, Eddie,” she says, and nudges him with her elbow. “I remember what it was like in the beginning. So go, take him home. I know you want to.” 
“I—yeah,” Eddie says, and lets himself grin. “I really do.” 
He doesn’t need to look for Buck, because he already knows where he is. He makes his way across the room, through their gathered friends and family, and over to where Buck is talking to Chimney. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as he does it, but Hen said it was obvious anyway, so he takes a deep breath and stands behind Buck, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder. 
“Hi,” Buck says, breathy with surprise but his cheeks pink with pleasure.
“Hen said I should take my man home,” Eddie says, and makes a concerted effort not to look at Chimney. He focuses instead on Buck’s cheek against his, and the way it crinkles when he smiles.
“Did she?” Buck says. “I guess we should listen to the captain, then.” 
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Eddie murmurs. They slip through the room, and Eddie tries to avoid Hen’s knowing look as they duck out of the front door without bothering with goodbyes.
As soon as the door closes, Eddie grabs Buck by the hips and pushes him against it, crowding into his space. “This is all I’ve been thinking about all night.”
“It’s only been two hours,” Buck says.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot longer than two hours,” Eddie says, and watches Buck’s eyes go dark. Then he grins. “Besides, do you want to nitpick, or do you want to kiss me?” 
“I can multitask,” Buck says, and Eddie laughs and kisses him for it, and for a moment the world narrows to just the two of them, wrapped up in each other against Bobby’s front door.
“Actually,” Buck murmurs, a moment or three later, when Eddie’s forehead rests against Buck’s and both their breaths come a little heavy. “I wanna change my answer.” 
“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “To what?” 
“I want you to take me home.”
send me a blossoming romance prompt 🌸
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obsessedwithceleste · 2 months
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Dancing With Our Hands Tied
Mattheo Riddle x Slytherin reader
Prompt 4 of @thatdammchickennugget ‘s hogmarch challenge🫶🏽 and dedicated to this psychic anon request 💕
Summary: I’d kiss you as the lights went out, Swaying as the room burned down, I’d hold you as the water rushes in, If I could dance with you again.
word count: 4k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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You watch silently from across the Slytherin common room as yet another girl places her hand flirtatiously on Mattheo’s chest, batting her lashes with that seductive grin you knew all too well from watching all the other girls do it too.
“Go to the dance with me?” Her lips read as she leaned closer to your friend.
You can’t help but smile as Mattheo just rolls his eyes, moving away from the girl, not giving her more than a shake of his head.
The girl’s mouth hangs open in shock of the rejection. Really she should be flattered you thought dryly to yourself. She’d made it significantly further than others you’d witnessed.
Truth was, you’d had a massive crush on Mattheo since you were kids, and watching as he rejected girl after girl was much more entertaining than you cared to admit.
Growing up, you’d always admired his bold brashness, and willingness to say whatever came to mind. The two of you had always gotten into trouble together, bouncing mischievous ideas back and forth. The summer before coming to Hogwarts, your mother had given you a heart shaped locket, and Mattheo had insisted that a photo of the two of you go inside it.
"In case we don't go to the same house." The boy had reasoned.
But of course, he’d never seen you as anything more than a friend, and unfortunately, the cringey, cliche nature of the situation was not lost on you. Even now, as you mindlessly fingered the carefully disillusioned pendant while Mattheo stalked towards your group with an air of agitation.
“Bloody hell I can’t wait for this fucking Yule ball rubbish to be over and done with,” Mattheo states flatly as he sits down lazily on the sofa next to you.
“Just pick a girl to go with then. They’ll leave you alone if they think you have a date. Why do you think I asked Daph so early on?” Theo replies, not bothering to look up from his book.
Daphne whacks him with her textbook.
You watch as Mattheo tilts his head in consideration before his eyes shift over to you, a sly grin forming on his face.
“Don’t even think about,” you say, holding up your hand as if to block out whatever idiocy the boy was about to spew.
Now it’s Mattheo’s turn to open his mouth in shock.
“Wha- you don’t even know what I was gonna say!”
“You were going to ask me if I’d go to the dance with you,” you reply dryly. “Honestly Matt, I’m not stupid.”
“Well will you?” He asks, giving you his most charming smile.
“I’m already going with Blaise.” You respond.
Looking back, had it been a bit of a rash decision? Yes. But you had made peace with the fact that Mattheo likely wouldn’t ask you to be his date, and Blaise was one of your best friends. You knew you’d have a good time with him, and all your other friends had been pairing up.
“Tell Blaise to go with Astoria,” Mattheo reasons.
“Toria is already going with Enzo.” Daphne intervenes.
“What about Pansy?”
“She and Millicent got accosted by Crabbe and Goyle last I heard,” Theo replies.
“He can go with Draco then! People already mistake them for gay lovers anyway.”
“Matt, you know Draco is trying to muster up the courage to ask Harry. Don’t be dense.” You reply.
“Oh come on! How do you all have this sorted out already? The ball was only announced yesterday!”
“We organized it at dinner,” Daphne responds, as if the answer was obvious.
“You mean while I was in detention?” Mattheo asks incredulously, only to be met with a chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘mhms’.
You look over as your friend slumps into the sofa in defeat, a wave of slight guilt washing over you.
“Lighten up Matt, you’ve already been asked by a handful of girls today, you’ll be able to find someone to go with easy,” you say.
“Not with anyone who matters,” he grumbles, so low that you almost miss it.
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A week had gone by and you were about to lose your mind. You thought that after the initial conversation in the common room, Mattheo would relent and just pick one of his many admirers to take to the ball. You really should’ve known better. You’d known the boy long enough to know that once he had his mind set on something, there was really nothing in the world that could stop him. You just never thought that you would be what he set his mind to.
“Matt, I’ve told you a million times, I’m already going to the ball with Blaise,” you groan, collapsing on your bed as the raven haired boy follows you into your dorm.
“Well lucky for you, I have the perfect plan to steal you away from ole Blaisey boy,” Mattheo says, his signature smirk in place.
You roll your eyes, leaning back on your bed as you wait for him to continue.
“It’s easy. You just have to date me,” Mattheo replies, as if his idea was particularly clever.
You let out a rather unattractive snort as your heart clenches. It felt as though it might pound out of your chest.
“Matt, that has to be the worst idea you’ve ever had. And you’ve had a lot of really bad ideas.”
Though asking the girl that’s fancied him for years to pretend to date him, only for him to snatch it all away again a few weeks later probably had to be one of the cruelest, you thought to yourself.
“Oh c’mon. There’s no way Blaise would be offended if you ditched him if we said we were together. He’s a perfectly reasonable bloke. He’d understand!”
You shake your head once more. There was no way you were pretending to date the boy you had been pining after for this long. It was only going to end in one way. Heart break. And not on his end.
“Bloody hell. What if I can get Luna to go in your place. Will you do it then? We both know he’s been eyeing that loon up for months.”
“Don’t call her a loon Matty.” You tilt your head in consideration however.
If he was willing to actually encourage Blaise’s love life, and be willing to get intermixed within the logistics of it all, he must be desperate. And you had been dying to set the two of them up, you supposed.
But you just couldn’t shake the bad feeling this whole situation gave you. It couldn’t be all that bad though, right? You reasoned. You’d gotten this far without Matt realizing your feelings, a few weeks of bliss surely couldn’t hurt.
“Alright. Fine. I’ll tell Blaise we got together and that I want to go to the ball with you, only if Luna agrees to go with him instead.”
Mattheo immediately brightens at your words, a self satisfied grin spreading across his face.
“Good. Because I already told Blaise that we were together and that I was taking you to the ball,” he says quickly. “Also- considering Blaise is more of a yapper than people give him credit for, the rest of the group definitely already knows.”
Your mouth drops open as you glare at the boy in front of you.
“Matt. What on earth. Did you tell him?” You grit out, praying to Salazar that Blaise hadn’t embarrassed you too much.
Mattheo shrugs. “Just told him that we had been out by the lake on one of our walks and I kissed you. One thing led to another and I asked you out. He seemed to believe it pretty easily actually.”
The boy looked all too calm about making up a whole scenario in which he made out with his best friend for your liking.
You purse your lips, taking a deep sigh. What did you see in this boy?
“Mattheo.”
“Yes love?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Can’t do that love, you wouldn’t kill your boyfriend.”
You continue to glare at the boy, fingers gripping tightly around your wand.
“Easy there, pretty,” Mattheo laughs nervously, slowly edging closer to you with a bashful grin.
“You better have thought this through Riddle. Because I’m telling you right now, that this is a bad idea.”
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It was too easy. You know that much clearly. The two of you, you and Mattheo that is, walk silently along the streets of Hogsmeade, your friends surrounding you, shielding you from the brisk winter air. Mattheo's arm is wrapped securely around you, hand tucked into your jacket pocket, your fingers intertwined. It was so warm. So comfortable. So effortless, as if you had spent forever with his hands in your pockets.
Blaise and Daphne had been the only ones to know of your secret feelings towards your best friend, yet not a single one of the others looked particularly shocked when the both of you showed up in the common room wrapped in each others arms one night.
“Bout bloody time,” you’d heard Theo grunt to Draco from across the fireplace.
Daphne of course had been utterly elated for you, and Blaise had made sure you knew that there were no hard feelings about switching dates for the ball. Especially after he had secured one Miss Luna Lovegood as his date with the surprising help of Mattheo.
A warm squeeze of your hand shakes you from your thoughts as your group comes to stop outside of The Three Broomsticks.
“You sure you don’t want to come down to the shops, y/n?” Daphne asks looking back at you as she forges on with Astoria and Millicent.
“Bloody hell, yes! She’ll be fine with me. You can’t have her to yourself all the time!” Pansy says with exasperation, shooing the other girls away and linking her arm through yours on your free side.
The bell above the door rings lightly as the rest of your group enters the warm tavern, Theo and Enzo racing to secure your usual table.
“Hey Matty!” A voice shouts, stopping your trio in your tracks.
You turn to see another booth filled with familiar looking Hogwarts students and recognize one of the girls you’d watch Mattheo reject just a few days ago.
“Come sit with us,” she continues, attempting to wave him over.
Pansy gives the girl a sneer as you walk past, Mattheo not even sparing a glance in their direction.
“Don’t even know the bloody girl’s name,” he mumbles under his breath, causing you to let out a soft chuckle.
“Ey, what’s the hold up?” Theo shouts as you all hurry over to the table.
“Bloody hell. I thought y/n being my girlfriend would finally get those birds to back off,” Mattheo complains as he takes his seat in the booth.
His arm remains wrapped securely around you the entire time, sending warm tingles through you. It’s all an act, you have to remind yourself, pulling yourself out of your head.
Draco snorts at Mattheo’s grumbling.
“Half the school already thought you two were dating. Didn’t stop em then, so I don’t see why it’d stop them now.” He says matter of factly as the rest of the group nods in agreement.
“You lot are so dramatic. No one thought we were dating,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at your friends.
Their eyes flicker awkwardly back and forth between the lot of them. “Right.” Pansy says finally, bringing an end to the silence.
You glare pointedly at the girl.
“I’m going to the loo. Order me a butter beer Matty?” You say, standing up abruptly.
“I’ll come,” Pansy says quickly, going to rise as well.
“It’s fine Pans. I’m a big girl. Promise not to get attacked by a troll or nothin,” you say with a smile.
Mattheo opens his mouth to protest before closing it again and giving your hand a tight squeeze.
You make your way through the maze of tables, finally making it to the ladies room. Making a beeline to the sink, you take a breath, letting cool water splash against your face.
Salazar, you needed to get a grip. But everything about being with Mattheo felt so real. So natural. Which just meant it would feel all the more real when things ended. You take another moment to gather yourself, dabbing any remaining bits of water from your face. As your hand falls on the door handle to make your way back however, loud voices fill the hall.
“I don’t know what he sees in her,” a voice practically snarls. You can practically feel the malice, dripping from their lips.
“So it’s true then? Mattheo is taking that girl to the ball?” Another voice asks.
“I heard they’re dating.”
“They weren’t already?”
“I wonder if he’s taking her out of pity.”
A chorus of voices all say at once.
You immediately bristle, realizing they were talking about you.
“I hear she was the only one in their group who didn’t have a date and she practically forced him to take her.”
“I thought she was going with Blaise.”
Bloody hell. Where did they get all of this information?
“Whatever. It’s not like it matters either way. There’s no way they last. She’s a mess, and Mattheo has never been able to settle has he? It’s only a matter of time.”
You feel a deep frown form at the harsh words, but before you’re able to react, the bathroom door is pushed open and you’re face to face with the group of girls from before. The girl you had recognized as Mattheo’s reject smirks as she eyes you up and down before simply pushing past you. The rest of the girls follow, leaving you to wander back to your friends.
When you sit down again, Mattheo has a warm drink already waiting, and you let out a small smile as you cozy up next to the boy. No matter how hard you try to distract yourself however, the words of the girl’s echo through your mind.
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Later that evening, you lay comfortably in bed with your head resting gently on Mattheo’s chest, hypnotized by the slow rise and fall. You hadn’t seen your roommates all day, and doubted they would be back if they weren’t there by now.
You lived for nights like these when Mattheo would bow out of whatever mischief Theo and Enzo had cooked up, and instead spend the evening holed up with you cuddling, talking, or getting into your own trouble. Your room had become a safe haven. A sacred oasis of sorts for the both of you to unwind, safe from the outside world.
“You were awfully quiet today at The Broomsticks.” Mattheo says, breaking the silence.
You only hum in response.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“How are we going to break up?” You ask, rather abruptly, as you look up at your best friend.
Mattheo looks surprised at the question.
“I don’t know. Didn’t really think I’d get this far in my scheming to be quite honest. I suppose I figured we’d just say that we figured we’d be better off as friends, or something of the sort. You can blame the split on me though if you’d like.” He replies.
You move your head to look down once more, picking at the blankets.
“No, no. The friends thing is fine. When should we do it?”
“Trying to get rid of me already, love?” Mattheo asks with a laugh.
“I just want to know what to expect.” You say quietly, causing Mattheo to grow quiet as well.
“Alright. Then how about a few days after the ball? We say that the dance made us realize we were better off as friends, and everything goes back to the way it was.” He says finally.
You feel your heart crack at his words.
“Yeah. Exactly like how it was.” You repeat.
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Smoothing your dress out one final time, you turn around to hear Daphne gasp.
“Oh that’s stunning,” she gushes, her own deep blue gown cascading elegantly around her in waves of silk.
You’d spent the last several hours or so in her and Pansy’s shared dorm getting ready for the ball with the other girls, though where Pansy had wandered off to you had no idea.
All you knew, was that you were bloody nervous. You didn’t think you would be. It was just like any other night you reasoned. You and Mattheo were with each other constantly. What difference did a pretty dress make?
“I think the boys are ready for us whenever we are. Toria, come get these shoes,” Daphne shouts.
Astoria really did look like a princess you think to yourself, her soft yellow gown billowing gently with every movement.
“Ready to go down?” She asks, seeming to float over.
“As I’ll ever be,” you respond with a nervous smile.
Giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Astoria slips on her shoes before making her way down to the common room, you and Daphne following close behind.
The boys are already congregated by the fireplace; their loud chattering could be heard across the room, but as soon as Theo’s eyes meet Daphne’s he freezes and the rest of the boys quiet down, noticing the shift.
Your eyes lock onto Mattheo’s and you slowly make your way over, nervously picking at your skirt with trembling fingers.
“Beautiful as always, y/n,” he says, smiling down at you when you finally reach him. Gently, he raises your hand to his lips, barely grazing over your shaking fingertips before looking back at you with his signature smirk.
“Where’s Draco?” You ask, not quite able to stomachs the intensity of his gaze.
“Had to be there early. Something about the champions and their dates having the first dance or something,” he replies easily, his hand finding its ever familiar place on your waist.
“Oh we are not missing that,” you say, your nerves quickly being replaced with excitement.
Mattheo grins back. “I knew we’d be on the same page,” he responds, tugging you towards the doors.
Together, the both of you rush to the main hall just in time to see Harry and Draco getting herded into a lineup of the champions to be paraded into the Great Hall.
“I certainly hope he took Snape’s dance lessons to heart,” you giggle.
It doesn’t take much longer for the rest of your group to join the both of you and soon enough you find yourselves following the flood of students into the newly decorated Great Hall.
It really was spectacular. The house elves clearly had spared no expense with thick, green trees covered in tinsel and ornaments lining the walls. Floating candles cast a warm glow about the room and the floor had the appearance of being covered in freshly fallen snow.
You watch, hiding a laugh, as Draco and Harry move awkwardly around the dance floor, almost colliding with Cedric and Cho on more than one occasion. Salazar help them.
Slowly, other couples begin to join the champions on the dance floor, swirling together in a sea of shimmering color.
“May I have this dance m’lady?” Mattheo asks with a lopsided grin.
Before you even have the chance to respond however, Mattheo is pulling you onto the dance floor, a look of pure delight across his face. There were very few times you remembered him looking this happy, and it melted your heart.
As the night progressed, Mattheo refused to leave your side, his hand rarely leaving your waist. Really, you hardly left the dance floor either. The few times you were able to escape with Daphne or Pansy to the punch bowl, Mattheo tracked you down shortly after, pulling you right back into his arms.
To say that you were in heaven was an understatement. You had spent hours daydreaming about what it might be like to have Mattheo’s hard-won affection to yourself. And now that you had it, you were practically floating. Which just made it all the more heart wrenching as you anticipated the inevitable. It was as if every move you made, every dance the two of you shared, was done with your hands tied.
People really weren’t going to believe your break up if he continued on like this, you’d thought at some point. But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to tell him to back off, especially as it grew later. Your time with him was fleeting after all.
“Bloody hell, Matt. Give the girl some breathing room,” Pansy exclaims after Mattheo had sought you out for the third time.
Mattheo just gives her a guilty grin before spinning you out onto the dance floor once more.
“I didn’t realize you liked dancing this much Matty,” you tease as the two of you away slowly on the floor.
“Oh I don’t. Just making sure I take full advantage of the night,” he replies, looking intently down at you.
You cock you head to the side.
“With you as my girl, I mean,” he adds. And before you’re able to put together another cohesive thought, his lips are on yours. In the middle of the dance floor.
Immediately it feels as though the lights had gone out, leaving the two of you alone in the room as you let your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the softness of Mattheo’s lips on yours. They move slowly at first. Carefully. Before quickly growing hungrier, more determined.
You barely register Mattheo’s fingers digging into you as he pulls you closer, and find yourself lost in the gentle sway as everything around you burns to the ground, leaving behind a fire growing steadily in your chest.
And just like that, you’re back in Mattheo’s arms as the water comes rushing in, jerking you back to reality. You stand frozen staring up at Mattheo as couples continue to move around you.
Had that really just happened?
“Um- fresh air. I think.” You stutter out, all but dragging the boy from the dance floor, praying no one had seen or noticed.
Mattheo wordlessly allows you to lead him out to the courtyard entrance before you all but collapse on one of the stone benches, still in shock.
“Please don’t avada me! I didn’t think that through entirely.”
“I don’t want to break up.” You say in unison.
“What was that?” Mattheo asks in surprise.
“No- hold on. Why in Salazar’s green bed sheets would I want to avada you?” You ask incredulously.
“More importantly, you don’t want to fake breakup?” Mattheo asks with a grin.
“Of course I don’t want to break up! I’ve fancied you for years!” You blurt out, slapping a hand over your mouth as soon as the words escape.
Mattheo looks at you with shock.
“No. I’ve fancied you for years. Why else do you think I refused to take anyone else to the ball?”
“Because you’re a stubborn arse,” you retort, barely processing the boy’s words.
He liked you?
The two of you stare at each other for another moment, still not fully believing the other as your minds race to put the pieces together.
It’s Mattheo who acts first, surging to connect your lips once more in a heated frenzy. It’s addicting really, the feeling of his soft lips against yours. The pull as he brings your bodies closer together. The warmth you can feel radiating off of him.
When you finally pull away this time, Mattheo’s eyes are shining down at you with that familiar intense gaze.
“We’re a pair of oblivious idiots, aren’t we?” You mumble, leaning into the boy.
“Well, you are. I haven’t exactly been subtle.” Mattheo replies with a snort, hugging you to his chest.
“Don’t be a twat. You’ve had girls fawning over you for years. What was I supposed to make of that?”
“I never looked payed them any mind, love. Think of it this way. I’ll just have years to make up for tonight,” he says with a cheeky smile.
You feel a familiar heat begin to rise in you once more as Mattheo takes hold of your arm, leading the way back to the dungeons.
“Oh I’ll hold you to that,” you reply, a mischievous smile making its way to your face.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less of you, love.”
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thisblogisaboutabook · 3 months
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Rainy Season - Part 3
Storm Warning
Azriel Eris x Reader
We’ve got a time jump and are swapping points of view for this chapter y’all.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
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3 months later
Eris Vanserra hated the Summer Court. The humidity anywhere outside of the temperature regulated zones of Adriata, the way his hair clung to his forehead and caused curls to form in his otherwise immaculate hair, but most of all it was just insulting to be so bothered by the heat itself when he quite literally had fire in his veins. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
Tarquin strode alongside Eris through the open air lower levels of his keep, three of his guards and two of Eris’ own flanking them several feet behind, one could almost forget they were there if not for the “click clack” of feet echoing through the halls. Eris would be lying if he said he didn’t have to try very hard to focus on the mundane talk of trade routes and port authorities instead of getting lost to the sounds of crashing waves and gulls outside.
Tarquin broached the riveting subject of tariffs on imports from the continent as the first rumble of thunder boomed in the distance. Now that - Eris enjoyed that aspect of the court. Autumn had no shortage of rain but the turbulence of storms often mirrored his own inner peril - made him feel less alone in the world. And truthfully, there was nothing like taking cover from the rain and listening to the rumble outside, watching the lightning dance across the skies as the loud cracks of thunder commanded the attention of anyone within earshot.
“Have your people felt the same effects, High Lord?” Tarquin broke Eris from yet another drift of his thoughts. He really should have brought a secretary or advisor along for this meeting.
Sparing Eris from the embarrassment of asking Tarquin to repeat his last three minutes of speech a cry broke through the hall. The battle cry of a…. Child?
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Followed by a yelp of “ow!”
Eris’ head jerked as he found himself drifting toward the action.
Turning a corner he found a woman laying on the ground, curled into a ball - a child of no more than 10 with a large jagged stick standing over her with his chest puffed out, pure smug joy on his face.
Eris looked to Tarquin who only grinned with satisfaction. Eris gaped before Tarquin quietly whispered, “just watch.”
The woman didn’t move. The child’s look of satisfaction slowly turning to that of concern as she lay there. He bent over the woman placing a hand on her shoulder, his brows knit together. “Lady L/N?”
So focused on the woman on the ground before him, the boy didn’t notice her arm slowly sneak around him and “Oof!” The kid let out a startled breath as she grabbed his ankle, ripping it out from beneath him, effectively leaving the child on his behind.
The female lept up into a crouching position. Her tanned, muscled thighs pushing her up to stand effortlessly. “And that, little ones, is why you never let your guard down with an adversary.”
Eris turned, wondering how he could have missed the group of children sitting on the other end of the room watching the scene unfold.
The boy remained on his behind, hands resting on his forehead in defeat.
“Hey-“ She reached a hand out to help him up. “You did a great job. You quite literally swept me off my feet! Nobody has done that in quite some time.” She paused, sadness twisting her features as if her own words struck her before shifting back to that of a proud instructor. “In fact - I have something for you.”
She reached into the pocket of her calf-length, flowy pants and reaching handing him a shell. “Add this to your leather strap.” She tapped a leather bracelet on his wrist, one shell already strung on it. “You did great, kid.” The boy gave her a genuine smile as he returned to the rest of his classmates.
Eris shifted involuntarily. How much had he wished for someone to say those words to him when he was a child?
Tarquin chuckled “An excellent motivator. Shells. Who knew?”
Eris gave a small smile - brief but genuine before adjusting back into his usual mask. The instructor turned to face them and cauldron damn him if she wasn’t the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. Radiant skin that came from plenty of time in the sun, silky hair that practically begged to have fingers run through it, a soft and curvy yet toned build. A body that told him she indulged herself in what she enjoyed but was active enough to define her plush features, likely blessed with great genetics - lithe yet perfectly squeezable in all his favorite places.
“High Lord.” Her voice carried to him like an ocean breeze. She bowed her head in a respectful greeting, long lashes fluttering. “How may I be of service?”
“Lady L/N,” Tarquin beamed. “It’s a pleasure to introduce you to Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court.”
Her brow puzzled for a brief moment before bowing her head again. “It’s an honor to meet you, High Lord.”
“A pleasure to meet you as well, lady.” Eris replied sincerely, meeting her bright eyes. “I didn’t realize Tarquin was hoarding such beauty within his keep.”
“We have many treasures in our court, High Lord. She is one of our brightest.”
Rather than blushing, the female held her head high, giving a polite “Thank you, High Lord.”
“We must be getting to lunch now. Have a pleasant rest of your class, Lady L/N.” He turned to the children with a stern look “And children, behave for her.” following the reminder with a smile and cheeky wink.
—————
It was hours later that Eris was released from meetings for the day. Unfortunately, there was still more to be discussed that would have to wait for tomorrow. Making the way to his guest suite, Eris found himself wondering about the instructor from earlier. Something about her felt vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.
After changing out of his stuffy clothes into something more befitting of the climate, Eris paced his room. He’d forgotten how much longer daylight lasted here than in his own court, with several hours remaining before dusk. He supposed he could brave the heat and take a stroll through the palace grounds, preferably without his entourage of guards.
Relieving the pair from their duties, Eris wandered through the gardens and toward a small grove of trees on the other side of the palace grounds. He could hear running water from a garden tributary that likely connected into the river that emptied into Adriata’s harbor.
Sauntering through the grove, he was pleased to find reprieve from the heat, the cool air wafting off of the stream and shade from the trees turning the grove into a private oasis. It wasn’t particularly trekked through. “Finally.” he thought to himself. A moment of peace.
Situating himself on an iron bench, Eris looked up, only to find that through a thicket of cattails, Lady L/N was standing on a rock upstream, eyes closed and balancing on one leg. Given her steady, intentional breathing he supposed she was meditating. It was odd - seeing her like this - strangely intimate to see someone in such an isolated state of catharsis, unaware of his own presence before her. The sun rays shone through cracks in the leaves, shrouding her in tiny fragments of light that made her tanned skin near golden. Her hair was wind blown from the breeze winding through the grove off the ocean, and she’d changed into a thin cotton sundress. Gods, maybe the Summer Court wasn’t so bad after all. The way it effortlessly flowed over her body perfectly accentuating her ample curves, and those tanned, toned legs - yeah, he should probably leave.
After momentary internal warring he began to stand but before he could sneak off, she gasped. Clutching her arms to her rib cage. “MOTHER FUCKER!” she screamed. Vulgar words coming from such a pretty mouth.
What an interesting method of meditation.
She took several breaths before resuming her position. Another minute went by when she audibly growled. “Bastard!!” She clutched herself again, keeling over. Finally she sat down on the rock, the hem of her dress soaking in the stream’s rippling water, and pressed her head into her hands. Eris thought she was crying.
He really should leave but - memories of his mother crying over the years flashed into his mind. All the years that she only had he or Lucien to console her, kindered spirits brought together by Beron’s casual cruelty. His other brothers being the emotionally void carbon copies of their father they were, paid no mind to their mother’s plight.
Yet still, he didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. She likely didn’t want him bothering her.
Against his better judgement, he found himself drawn in by her familiarity and approached. As he drew closer, he realized her sobs were not sobs at all. She was muttering the raunchiest, most vile slew of curses that he’d ever heard. Lucien would enjoy this female.
As he approached, she jerked her head up. The lovely, collected face from earlier twisted into one of contempt. He wondered if she knew that, that face was, well, adorable like a fierce little kitten. Although, something told him to tread carefully. She may look adorable but he’d bet good coin that her bite matched that of a lions.
“What do you want?” She spat.
Eris only smirked. “And here I thought you were a lady.”
Baiting her. Genius idea, Eris.
“Only within the palace.”
“You’re still on palace grounds.” Shrugging with the statement, Eris put his hands in his pockets - damn these Summer Court linens really were comfortable.
“Well, I was alone until you intruded.” she murmured, not meeting his eyes.
“Did you win Tarquin’s good graces with such manners?”
Her expression filled with ire as she looked up at him. “Did you take your throne by being such a prick?”
Eris couldn’t help but laugh at her bravado. This female either REALLY didn’t like him or truly didn’t care about consequences. “Ah, so you do know who I am.”
“You’re a High Lord. Of course I know-“
Her words cut off as she clutched her ribs again, tighter this time. A shudder escaping her. This time the pain seemed to last longer. And this time he could have sworn her voice cracked as she swore.
“Hey” Eris stepped into the creek, not bothering to step out of his sandals. Before he could hesitate he crouched down before her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe.”
The thing was, he recognized that pain well. It has been centuries but damn he remembered it so clearly.
“Breathe through it. Think of something that makes you smile.”
She clutched herself harder, shaking her head. “Think of the look on your student’s face when you gave him that shell today.”
She breathed in deeply this time instead of letting out another curse.
“Good. Hold for three beats.”
“Now let the breath out.”
She breathed out. “In again.” He instructed. She followed suit. “Now out.”
As her breath steadied, she met his eyes - momentarily soft, a little broken, before ire crossed them again.
“For fucks sake, High Lord.” She spat. “I came here to meditate. I know how to breathe.”
She sure as shit seemed to have forgotten how to for a moment there, but he kept that to himself.
He only let out a soft laugh.
“There she is.”
She scowled in return.
“So, Lady L/N” he began, standing and extending a hand to help her up.
“Y/N.” She interjected, taking his hand. “Call me Y/N.”
Y/N. Fitting, he thought. The kind of name a tropical storm would be given.
Wait. Y/N L/N. Oh, he knew exactly why she was so familiar now. No wonder she’d given him that puzzled look in the palace. And, if Eris recalled correctly, his brother actually was rather fond of her - in a friendly and platonic sort of way. Though in his tales of the Night Court he’d certainly never mentioned the fact that she looked like a gods damned deity.
He led her out of the creek, not quite ready to drop her delicate hand. “So, Y/N, tell me about this idiot mate that let the Summer Court’s brightest treasure go.”
She gaped, jaw dropping into a look of genuine shock. “How-“
“I had one too. I believe you know her.”
—————
Eris and Y/N spent hours talking in the grove. He gave her all the details of his mate, Morrigan. How it killed him to leave her that fated day. Had he touched her, his mate, Beron would have claimed her as Autumn Court property requiring a Blood Duel for the Night Court to retrieve her. Though, Beron would have ensured she never left unharmed. That aside, Eris didn’t want that blood on her hands, the blood of a blood duel or any battles over her. He didn’t want it on his hands either. It killed him to feel her pain down the bond starting from their forced engagement and through the torture her father had inflicted upon her, and the trauma that lingered thereafter. The gut-wrenching, immobilizing pain that only a mate could feel shooting through to them.
He never wanted her to feel that pain. If it hurt him that badly to only feel it down the bond, he couldn’t imagine the strife she’d felt. He wanted to run to her, to comfort her, to tell her everything he couldn’t risk saying. He was too young to face the ramifications from his father and he had his mother and Lucien to protect in those days. So he protected her in the only way he knew how to at the time. Through cold, calculated indifference. He still regretted it.
As time went on, the mask he wore became heavier and heavier, burying that bond deeper within himself. It took him until after the war with Hybern to finally lay it all out to her. Y/N never knew any of that part of the story. She knew Mor and Eris had made amends but nothing of their bond, and she knew that Mor was happily committed to Emerie, an Illyrian female now. He was happy for his mate, as happy as a rejected mate could be.
Eris never claimed to have been in the right. In fact, what he did to Mor was wrong. The way he spoke to her as if she was no more than a common whore when facing her in front of his father at the High Lord’s meeting. Yes, it was an act but it was never okay. He’d live with that for the rest of his days. His apologies to her since never felt like enough.
Y/N empathized with Eris. He could see that she was torn but her gaze toward him softened although, never into that of pity. He liked that about her.
She shared the story of her mating bond with Azriel. And how the waves of anger and grief down the bond had increased in strength recently as she had continued healing. She laughed bitterly at the typical trajectory of females in her situation getting better over time while unfaithful males seemed to spiral as it went on. She didn’t say who he had cheated on her with but Eris had his suspicions. The Shadowsinger apparently had a thing for Vanserra mates. She laughed and cried over the hours they talked. They’d eventually ended up back in a palace seating area for a drink.
Eris hadn’t been so open with someone like this in so long that it felt foreign. Hell, opening up always felt unnatural for him. Perhaps he was stupid for sharing with her. After all, mating bonds could make people do crazy things. She could always take Azriel back and share the details of his little sob stories with the Night Court.
She’d occasionally let out a sharp breath as small jolts of emotion came rolling in. It was nearing dusk when she finally huffed, slapping her hands on her thighs saying, “Enough! This tea is weak. I need something stronger.” Pouring them each a glass of brandy, and another, and another.
As the conversation shifted from the heavier topics to lighter ones, Eris let it slip that he wasn’t fond of the summer court and found all of the sand and humidity to be unpleasant at best.
Her inhibitions were down and if Eris were being honest with himself, his were too. He hadn’t drank much since becoming a High Lord though he often felt the need for a stiff drink. No, there was too much work to be done and he was still getting his own inner circle acclimated. Trust was harder to give in the Autumn Court, especially after being under his father’s rule for so long. There were plenty of good people in the castle but just as many were corrupted under Beron’s rule. Weeding them out was consuming more of his time than anticipated.
Somehow, after their fourth drink, Y/N dragged him out onto the beach, determined to show him all the merits of the crusty, sand-infested shores.
Admittedly, her joy was contagious but he was going to make her work for any positive reaction.
“Okay!” She eagerly squealed. “First - sand castles! Have you ever built one?”
“I live in a castle.” Eris feigned boredom, inspecting his nails. “It seems unnecessary to build one out of… that.” his nose scrunched up, lip curling into a sneer as he gestured to the sand surrounding them.
“Ughhh.” Her eyes rolled back into her head as her little sun dress blew in the wind. And damn if he wouldn’t love to see her eyes going back into her head like that in other circumstances.
He was a gentlemale but a male nevertheless.
“Being High Lord doesn’t mean you have to be such a bore, but fine… No sand castles. Maybe next time!”
Next time. He liked the thought of that. My how far she’d come from practically snarling at him just this morning.
“Look!” She squealed, bringing her hands to her chest and clapping with excitement. “Dolphins! Now I know you don’t have those in the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra.”
Fuck, his name sounded so good coming off of her lips.
He couldn’t resist smiling at her enthusiasm and then at the dolphins. They swam so peacefully in a pod through the harbor. One even let a young water wraith trail alongside it as a hand carefully gripped onto its dorsal fin as the creature pulled her along.
“The wraiths and dolphins coexist well together.” Y/N mused wistfully. “There’s a common misconception that they are territorial due to food supply but they have plenty in the harbor.”
She smiled softly. “The younger wraiths tend to bond with them and the dolphins have even been known to protect them from certain dangers.”
As the pair continued walking along the shore, the conversation occasionally faltered as Y/N would stare off distantly, as if looking for something that wasn’t there.
His heart ached for her. From what he’d gathered during their talk, she’d left the Shadowsinger, but the heart is slow to heal after losing a mate in any capacity.
Eris nudged her with his shoulder. “Hey little minx, where’d you go?”
Coming back to reality she halted. “Oh! Oh my gods. The sun is setting and you have to come with me! Hurry.”
She grabbed his wrist and he didn’t hesitate to follow along as she all but dragged him down the beach. “Hurry! We’ll miss them!”
They ran until reaching a secluded inlet of the bay. They climbed up a small rocky ledge where she sat, dangling her feet over the edge. “There’s an underwater cave-“ she breathed heavy, catching her breath. “here, beneath us and every night-“ another pause to breathe. “something magical happens as the sun sets.”
Eris, catching his own breath, waited patiently for more details but she only dropped a small pebble into the water and as she did, a rainbow of luminescent fish rippled to life below the surface. There had to be thousands of them, leisurely swimming out of the cave as if they were just waking up. Shades of bright pink, green, blue, orange, and purple lit up the small inlet. Eris was awestruck, so awestruck in fact that he didn’t hesitate planting his ass next to her on the crusty sand-coated ledge.
With a wave of her wrist she pulled a bottle of rum out from the pocket realm, tugging the cork out with her teeth and taking a swig, then handing it over to him.
They sat in silence as the remaining fish left the inlet and the remaining colors of the sunset disappeared into night. Clouds began rolling in as they drank and began chatting again. Much like that morning, thunder rolled in but this time he was disappointed to hear it. He didn’t want the evening to end, wasn’t ready to let her go quite yet.
He wished he’d had a warning before the ocean winds blew this wild, beautiful storm into his life that morning. Something to brace himself against the inevitable fallout of the precarious situation he found himself in. It was a storm he was prepared to ride out and he had a feeling it would be worth whatever debris she’d leave him with.
The base of the distant thunder rumbling, the cymbal-like crash of waves on the shore, and singing of the creatures of summer nights blended together into a beautiful melody that flowed through Eris. Quickly he stood, extending a hand to her. “Dance with me, Y/N?”
She froze, that distant look crossing her eyes again for a second. He braced himself for her decline but the life returned to her eyes as a smile graced her full lips. She accepted his hand and didn’t hesitate as he tucked her into his chest, her warmth and scent lulling him into a state of bliss.
No, Eris Vanserra did not hate the Summer Court at all.
————————
This was a long one and I know it wasn’t from our girls POV but I hope you all enjoyed it 🥹 Stay tuned for more! Her story is not done yet.
Tags:
@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study
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witchthewriter · 3 months
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Poly141! | Mission Pixie Dust
Okay so... I was making up scenarios in my head as I was falling asleep last night and I made myself cry ... so I obviously had to share...
Poly141; the four men are your husbands and all deployed at the same time, leaving you home with your three kids at the beginning of the school holidays.
This turned out longer than I thought it would but I just had to write it out. I love Poly141 AND them being dads :')
Da = Johnny
Papa = John P.
Dad= Simon
Daddy = Kyle
School holidays had just started, and your three pups were buzzing as soon as they came home. Bags were thrown on the floor, school shoes unlaced and scattered around the shoe stand. They knew the rules, but first day of school holidays meant they were allowed to get a little wild.
Your oldest, Paesha, had just turned eight and her father was obvious. Thick curls, dark skin and warm brown eyes made it plain to see. But all your husbands loved her the same. In fact, she had a special bond with her Da (Johnny).
Malachai, your second, could have been any of the three other men's. Light brown hair, fair complection, and utterly/overly protective of his sisters. He had been born a year after Pae.
And your youngest, Felicity (known as Flick), had started her first year in big school. She was known for having exceptional blue eyes.
None of your husbands wanted a DNA test, they thought it useless because everyone treats the children with the same love, compassion and warmth.
Throwing your keys on the counter (Paesha picked them up and placed them on the hook). You rubbed the bridge of your nose and tried to quell the longing in your soul. You didn't know if it was worse when the kids were gone or with you. Being completely alone let the terrible thoughts attack but you didn't want your kids to miss out on having their fathers'.
Calming the oncoming tears, you turned around and asked, "who wants pizza for dinner?"
"YES!" Yelled Mal, a fist punched in the air. Paesha nodded her head enthusiastically while Flick did a little happy dance.
Paesha halted and squinted at you, "Not homemade right?"
After dinner arrived, the four of you sat on the large dark green couch. Your two ex-military dogs, Moth and Teddy, sat on either end of the lounge.
Turning onto the streaming service, you found the exact movie you were looking for. The 2003 version of Peter Pan.
With the lights off (except for the kitchen, the kids were still scared of too much darkness), you watched as one of your cats jumped into Pae's lap. Barnaby started purring instantly. His fluffy white tail settled around his body.
The seven of you settled in. Your four human babies snuggled up to their mama, smiles already on their faces.
When the movie had finished, your kids still wouldn't go to bed.
"Oh wait, I know why it isn't working - we don't have the pixie dust!" Flick pulled on your sleeve with a huge gap-toothed smile.
You had been watching as they jumped around the room. Lights flicked on, bodies flinging from one couch to another.
"I know! But ... we don't have any in the house..." You grumbled.
Paesha was staring dreamily at Peter Pan, a cheek resting against her face. "Where do we get some?" Her head turned slightly to look at you, her eyes nearly heart-shaped.
"Ugh-" god trying to keep childlike wonder alive was bloody difficult. Like a sign from the Universe, your phone started to ring.
All three kids ran over to it, knowing exactly who was calling at this time of night. Swiping the screen, four familiar faces popped up.
"Da! Papa! Dad! Daddy!" Smiling through the screen, the men had been just as eager to see their kids as their kids were to see them.
"Hello little munchkins, ya been good for mum?" Simon greeted first. His mask was off and no black could be found around his eyes. He never showed that side to the children.
"We're going to fly!" Flick chirped, her arms outstretched and running around.
"You're - what?" Price said with a slightly panicked face.
"But we need pixie dust," Malachai explained. Shaking his head like this was obvious information.
"I introduced them to the ... live action Peter Pan," you explained and a smile of regret grew on your tired face.
"Oh honey," Kyle replied, understanding the situation. He was the first of the men to.
"But we don't have any and we have to go buy more!" Pae said while leaning against you.
"Eh, pixie dust ...?" you heard Johnny mumble in the background.
"Oh! I have an idea!" You said with a faked expression, "why don't the Dada's get us the pixie dust!"
The chorus of cheers was heard throughout the house. Alerting the the tired Moth and Teddy.
Kyle shook his head. And Price's nose flared. Mum: 1 - Dads: 0.
"We'll bring back the goddamns finest," Simon said. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh.
"See! You heard Dad! Now get your butts' upstairs and in bed."
"Yes ma'am!" They said in unison (a nickname they'd heard their father's use one too many times.)
Once the kids were upstairs, your face dropped.
"I miss you guys," you whispered into the phone. The tears welling and spilling down your cheeks.
"We miss you too," John said, his words strangled with his feelings.
It was always hard to hang up.
It hurt.
But tonight's farewell felt like the hardest. You could just imagine how the scenario would've played out if their father's were there with them. With you.
'Can't always get what we want,' you thought bitterly.
"Not long now," Kyle said. You stared at his eyes and then his lips. God how much you wanted to kiss him.
"You better make sure you bring back some fucking pixie dust or there'll be a riot."
"Aye, Laswell definitely knows someone-" Johnny replied, giving you a wink. "Miss you gorgeous." He always tried to uplift the mood. And it nearly always worked.
You fought out of your misery, knowing the four soldiers couldn't bear to see you upset. And as they said their goodbyes, you said so in return.
"We love you, our precious wife. We'll all be together soon."
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wzrd-wheezes · 11 months
Text
Lean Down - R.L x S.B x Reader
"Reader gets embarrassed by the way Remus or Sirius (your choice) leans down to listen to what she says and she’s deprived of almost any human interaction or touch so it was so obvious that she’s embarrassed and gets teased over it."
AN: this turned out way filthier (and way longer) than i intended it to be lol. I couldn't decide which one of them I wanted to write this for so I just did them both hahaha. This is also a modern day au just cause why not. Enjoy!
2.4k
Warnings: a whole load of sex, swearing, use of the word slut, blowjobs and the like. as always dont read if you're a minor and also make sure you wrap it before you tap it <3
Sirius Black was never on time for anything, unless that thing was a party that he was absolutely itching to get to. This being the reason that he was currently stood on Y/N’s doorstep, a bottle of liquor in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  
“C’mon, Y/N, get your shit and let's go.” he called, banging on her front door with his fist. 
“You’re so impatient, Pads, you know that, don’t you?” Remus laughed, leaning against the wall as they waited for their friend to emerge, “You’re acting like you’ve never been to a party before.”  
He didn’t get chance to reply as Y/N opened the door and stepped out to meet them. Sirius let out a low whistle as he laid eyes on her, making Remus’s eyes snap up from the spot he was staring at on the ground. 
“Looks like we’re gonna have to keep an eye on you tonight, eh, Moony?” he grinned. 
“What’s that supposed to mean then?” Y/N asked, looking over her shoulder at him as she locked the door behind her. 
“It’s his way of saying that he thinks you look fit,” Remus chuckled, shaking his head. 
“Hey, with any luck you might find a nice bloke to bring home with you tonight.” Sirius smirked, “It’s about time, isn’t it?” 
“Rude. It’s not been that long. Sorry that we’re not all horny bastards like you, Sirius.” Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes at him. 
“It has been a while though,” Remus said, smiling slightly, “I can’t remember the last time you told us about a bloke you were seeing.” 
“Because she’s not had any action since she shagged Jam-” Y/N shut him up by jabbing him sharply in the ribs, earning a dramatic groan from Sirius. 
The party was being hosted in the house of one of their old school friends and when they arrived the place was already packed, people already beginning to spill out onto the front lawn. Music blared out of the speakers and the tables were littered with plastic cups, people were scattered all over the place, some slouched on sofas and others tucked away in corners.  
“The fact that we’ve been at this party for approximately two minutes and I still don’t have a drink in my hand should be illegal.” Sirius said dramatically, making his way over to a tabled that was filled with various drinks. He made a concoction and poured it into a cup for each of them. 
“This tastes like paint stripper.” Y/N grimaced, taking a swig. 
“Yeah, you should really let me make the drinks next time, Pads.” Remus said, taking a sip of his own drink and pulling a face, “This is grim.” 
Sirius just laughed at them, chugging his own drink down and beckoning for them to follow him into the crowd. Within minutes, they were in the thick of it, their bodies pressed against each other, dancing to the music that boomed out. The air was thick and warm and Y/N drained the last of her drink from her cup before tossing it to the side. 
“I’m gonna go make another drink, do you want one?” Y/N asked, raising her voice slightly so the pair could hear her.  
“What was that, love?” Remus asked, leaning down so he could hear her properly. 
“Yeah, I didn’t catch that.” Sirius followed suit, pressing himself closer to her and tilting his head downwards. Y/N looked up at them towering over her and felt the heat rush to her cheeks. 
“Go on, what did you say?” Remus leaned closer to her face, his stubble scratching against her cheek. 
“I- er- I said that I was going to get a drink.” Y/N stuttered, feeling flustered all of a sudden. Remus shot a look at Sirius who smirked and grabbed Y/N’s hand and dragged her out of the crowd and into the garden where it was significantly quieter. 
“What’s got you all jittery?” Sirius quizzed, looking down at her, still smirking. 
“I think I know what it is...” Remus mumbled, taking a step closer to her. 
“Are you really that touch starved that us leaning down to talk to you has got you all flustered?” Sirius teased. 
“No, no-” 
“No?” Remus mocked, “Why are you blushing then? I could feel the fucking heat radiating from your cheeks when I leaned down to hear you.” 
Sirius stepped closer to her as well, snaking an arm around her waist and pressing himself against her back. 
“You don’t need to be embarrassed, darling." Sirius whispered in her ear, resting his chin against her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her waist. She could smell the cigarettes and the alcohol on his breath and she squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a sharp breath. Remus stood in front of her, placing a large hand on her cheek. 
“You’re very cute when you’re flustered,” He grinned, “Why don’t we go back to our place, yeah?” 
Y/N bit her lip and nodded, knowing exactly what she was getting herself into. 
Sirius stumbled through the front door of his and Remus’s apartment, not even bothering to turn the lights on, just dragging Y/N to his room. His room was dark, clothes strewn over a chair and his bed unmade. The pair backed Y/N up to the bed, until her legs hit the edge of it and she sank onto it. 
“You look so fucking hot tonight,” Sirius grumbled, sitting down next to her, “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He nuzzled into her neck leaving a trail of kisses, his hands rubbing up and down her thigh . Remus sat on the other side on her, his lips finding the other side of her neck, sucking gently at the spot just above her collarbone, while he had one hand on her waist. 
“We saw the way you’ve been looking at us, love,” Remus whispered, “You could’ve just asked and we could’ve done this a lot sooner.” 
“Was too scared... didn’t wanna ruin our friendship, y’know...” Y/N mumbled. 
“Well we’re gonna ruin you.” Sirius said lowly. She could feel him smirking against her skin. 
The boys both suddenly stood up in front of her, their crotches almost level with her face. Sirius’s ring clad fingers skimmed over his belt, quickly undoing it and pulling down his jeans.  
“You’re gonna suck us both off, okay?” Remus said firmly, also undoing his trousers, palming his bulge as he spoke. Y/N just nodded in response and dropped to her knees in front of them. 
“Y’look so pretty on your knees for us, babe.” Sirius said gruffly, pulling down his boxers and giving his dick a few quick pumps. He put a hand in her hair and guided her forward so the tip of his dick bumped gently against her lips. Y/N darted her tongue out, licking a stripe over the head before taking it into her mouth properly. Sirius groaned, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at her. Remus cleared his throat, seemingly impatient from the lack of attention he was getting. 
“I can just leave you two to it, if you like?” He said sarcastically. 
“No. No. I want you both.” Y/N said, shuffling over and focusing her attention on the other boy. 
“I’m not normally one for sharing,” Sirius said, moving over and sitting on the edge of the bed behind Y/N, “but I suppose this is going to have to be an exception.”  
Sirius once again grabbed a handful of her hair, but this time shoved her roughly down onto Remus’s dick. She spluttered around him, her eyes going wide and prickling with tears.  
“Atta girl.” he grumbled, “You can take him all.” 
Remus’s head tipped back and he let out a groan as he felt her throat clench around him as she gagged. He reached down and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. 
“Don’t be too rough with her, Pads.” 
“She likes it. Can tell from the way she’s clenching her thighs together,” He chuckled, “Jus’ a little slut really, aren’t you.” He carried on pushing her onto the other boy's dick, holding her in place while he fucked her throat. Eventually, he released her giving her chance to catch her breath. Y/N’s face was tear stained and her lips were swollen but she looked up at the pair needily. 
“Need you both,” she gasped. “Please.” 
Remus and Sirius both shared a glance and lifted her onto the bed, quickly removing her clothes. 
“Fuck.” Sirius gasped as his eyes roamed over her body. 
“So fuckin’ pretty.” Remus agreed. His handed grabbed at the flesh of her thighs as he pulled them apart, “She’s soaked already, mate.” 
“That right, baby?” Sirius asked, a rough finger going up to trace a line over the girls swollen lips, “Nice and needy for us, aren’t you?”  
Y/N let out a soft moan, nodding quickly. Sirius smirked as he pushed two of his fingers into her mouth, Y/N’s tongue immediately swirling around them desperately. 
“I’d stop doing that unless you want me to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours again.” 
The girl tried to speak but was cut off by Remus roughly shoving two of his fingers into her dripping cunt, making her gasp. He fucked his fingers into her softly and leaned down to suck gently on her clit. Sirius’s hands roamed over her chest, fingers quickly flicking at one of her nipples while he took the other one into his mouth.  
“Move over then, Moony.” he said after a while, “I wanna taste her before I fuck her.” 
Remus nodded and swapped places with him, pressing his lips against Y/N’s as Sirius settled between her thighs. Sirius was rougher than Remus was, he was eating her out like he was a man starved. He looked up after a while, chin glistening and eyes dark. 
“M’gonna fuck you and Moony’s gonna fuck that pretty mouth, yeah?”  
Y/N nodded and Remus flipped her round so that she was on her hands and knees. Sirius shifted her legs apart and slowly ran the head of his cock up and down her slit. 
“Sirius, stop teasing and just fuck me already.” Y/N whined. 
“Don’t start whining.” he tutted, “I don’t give brats what they want.” 
Remus chuckled and moved so that Y/N’s face was level with his cock. She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out and he tapped his dick against it. 
“Eager little slut, aren’t you?” he grinned, thrusting deeply into her mouth earning a gag from her. Sirius lined himself up and entered in one swift movement, stopping briefly to give her a moment to adjust before continuing to pound into her. Y/N released an unholy moan around Remus’s cock as Sirius slammed into her. 
“That it, baby, moan around my cock,” Remus mumbled, “keep making those pretty noises for us.” His hand rested against her jaw, holding her in place as he rocked into her mouth. Sirius had one hand gripped onto her waist while the other roamed over the flesh of her arse cheeks, occasionally slapping it as he fucked her. 
“Feel so good around me, darling.” he groaned, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against her shoulder, the chain of his necklace dangling cooly against her hot back, “Can feel you clenching around me. You getting close?” 
Y/N tried to nod as best as she could without taking Remus’s cock out of her mouth. Sirius just chuckled in response to her moans and fucked into her harder. The sounds coming from the trio were filthy, Sirius’s hips slamming against her arse, Y/N moaning around Remus’s cock as he let out low groans of encouragement. 
“Fuck, M’getting close, baby.” he murmured, “You gonna come with me, yeah?” he reached around and rubbed her clit as he rammed into her. 
“That’s it, gorgeous. Come for us,” Remus encouraged, “Look so good when you’re getting fucked from both ends.”  
Sirius’s hips stuttered as he chased his high, Y/N backing herself up onto him as she chased hers. He collapsed against her as he came, fingers still dancing over her clit as he tipped her over the edge. Remus let his dick slip out from her mouth so that they could hear the moans that escaped her lips properly. After giving her a moment to recover, Remus took Sirius’s spot at the end of the bed and flipped the girl over so that she was laying on her back. 
“What are you doing, Rem?” she mumbled, her eyes glazed over slightly, “I’ve already come...” 
“You thought that it was just going to be Sirius that fucked you?” he asked, peering down at her, “Can’t let him be the only one that gets to try out that pretty pussy, can I?” 
Just as the other boy did, Remus thrust into her swiftly, hoisting her legs up so that they were wrapped around his waist. Sirius shifted so that Y/N’s head rested in his lap and he leaned down to play with her tits as she got fucked. His calloused fingers ran over the soft skin of her chest, occasionally flicking over one of her nipples. 
“Fucking hell, she does feel good,” Remus said, “can’t believe we haven’t done this sooner.” 
“I’ve got a funny feeling this is gonna be a regular occurrence,” Sirius laughed, “We just fuck you too good, don’t we, love?” 
“So good.” Y/N moaned breathlessly, “I-I’m close, Rem.” 
“Me too, baby. Be a good girl and come for me.” 
That was all it took to tip her over the edge, her eyes squeezing shut as she arched her back and let her head fall into Sirius’s lap. A filthy moan ripped from her body as Remus fucked into her overstimulated cunt. His thrusts were getting sloppy as he reached his peak, a string of swear words falling from his lips as he unravelled, finishing inside of her. He flopped down onto the bed, three pairs of legs tangled together on Sirius’s messy sheets. 
“That was...wow.” Y/N gasped, snuggling into the boys. 
“Amazing. You were great,” Remus smiled, pressing a kiss against her temple. 
“Always knew you would be.” Sirius grinned. 
2K notes · View notes
mrchiipchrome · 3 months
Text
Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire
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W.C.- 2 k
a/n: This is part of the 'Parents' universe, also i need a better title for it sooo please give me suggestions:)
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“Aye María, you’re trending on twitter.” Mapi’s head snaps in your direction, eyes gleaming with excitement. She has no reason to be skeptical, you look truthful as always, blinding smile stretching across your lips. 
“Really?!-” Just as she was about to ask why she was trending, you interrupt her. 
“No.” Your tone was one of complete seriousness, deadpan beyond comprehension. You look on in delight as your teammate’s smile drops off the vicinity of her face, lips contorting into a disappointed frown. 
The back of your head stings with the hands coming down to hit it, a slap to the back of the head never hurt anyone, except you of course.
“Y/n, that’s not nice.” Alexia chides as you rub over the sensitive parts of your head, still stinging from the brutal hits. She looks at you through her peripheral vision, seeing the smile that’s still stretched across your lips, rolling her eyes at your childish nature. 
What did she expect though when they brought in a child?
“Neither was the prank she pulled on me last week but you didn’t tell her off for that, did you?” Annoyance seeps into your tone, slapping away the hand ruffling your hair. Alexia rolls her eyes at you again and you can barely resist telling her that they might get stuck like that if she continues, it was always fun to rile the woman up.
“You wanna test me cariño? I can make your life hell.” She interprets the huff you let out as acceptance, rising from the table to throw her trash away. 
On the other side of the room, you’re startled as lips press to your temple, hands placed on your shoulders.
“Causing trouble again, are you bubba?” Lucy plops down in the seat to your left, Keira occupying Alexia’s old seat to your right. You can’t help smiling again as your parents settle at your sides, they were a bit late to lunch as they were talking with Jona.
“No more than usual Robert, I wonder where I got it from. You think I need to go see the physios? Excessive childishness in a 15 year old is fatal from what I’ve heard.” You teased the older woman, who in response pushed her fingers between your ribs, the feeling way more ticklish than it should be.
“Leave the tot alone Luce, she’s got enough on her mind without you annoying her.” Keira says as she wraps her arm around your neck, pulling you into a headlock of sorts as she kisses your forehead over and over. 
“No way, I mean I can accept bubs and bubba, but tot? I’m fifteen.” It was almost like a toddler whining after its favourite toy, all tied together by the way your feet pound against the floor in protest.
“Mhm, sure. You’ll have to deal with every embarrassing nickname in the book until you take your last breath, bubs. Now, have you eaten enough? You know that we’ve got another training session after this.” Lucy reminds you hastily, pushing a granola bar into your hands as Keira hands you an apple.
“Yes I’ve eaten, no you two won’t be calling me ‘tot’ and ‘bubba’ when I’m 60, and yes I did in fact know that we’ve got training after lunch. Also, can I go over to Vicky’s after training? I need help with some homework.” You’re nearly through the doors of the meal room as you shout out the question, both Lucy and Keira nodding their heads in agreement.
Thinking no one’s watching you in the hallways is your fatal mistake, as you dance around in your spot you can hear the very distinct giggles from your usual partners in crime. Your eyes scan the space and in milliseconds you notice the short frames of Pina and Patri, the latter of the two holding up her phone in such a manner that convinced you that she was recording you.
“Having fun there osito?” Patri asks teasingly, as if you didn’t have plenty of incriminating videos of her doing things she definitely shouldn’t have been doing. The only response you give her is starting to run towards her at an alarming speed, the two women looking at each other in panic. 
Making the smart choice, they split up so that only one unfortunate soul had to deal with you, the one being Pina since she was easier for you to tackle to the ground if that was to be needed. She was also handed Patri’s phone when they were running, a sneaky attempt to keep the video.
“Come on, Osito, let’s not do anything drastic here.” Of course she was trying to negotiate when she was backed up against the wall, a nervous smile overtaking her face. “We’re amigos, remember?” When your eyes narrow, she knows she’s in trouble. Just as the shorter girl is about to try her chances at running away again, two stable hands land on your shoulders.
Pina nearly cries tears of joy as she sees Ingrid staring back at her, the norwegian’s arm now clasped tightly around your shoulders as she tries to pull you away from the short spaniard. But when you look back at her, thumb running across your own throat in a not so nice gesture, she begins to sweat again. 
It was no secret that you had dirt on her and Patri.
When Ingrid notices your obscene gesture she makes sure to slap the back of your head extra hard, obviously disapproving. 
“Why does everyone keep doing that?”
—---------
“Narla’s blue now, looks like a smurf bit her.” You tell Lucy who sits opposite of you at the kitchen table, Keira cooking dinner not too far away. Lucy’s head snaps up from where it was turned down to look at her phone.
“What are you talking about? Are you kidding me?” Her accent is way thicker than normal, clouding her words more than usual. Your perfected poker face was always useful, but especially in situations like this, it was extremely difficult not to burst out into laughter at her expression. 
“Yeah I am. Why would she be blue?” The first part is said fully deadpanned, it is only when you ask her why that you allow the laughter to seep through into your voice. 
Lucy’s chair falls to the floor as she stands up, hands placed on the table like she’s about to do a speech. Instead what she does is walk around to your side of the table, tackling you to the floor like it’s no problem.
The two of you wrestle on the floor like schoolboys for a few moments until Keira calls out for you both, the woman already seeming fed up with whatever’s going on.
“Kids, dinner is ready, go set the table.” She tells you, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips looking at you two in disappointment. Though most of it was channeled towards Lucy, she was supposed to be an adult after all.
The brit in question unlocks her strong arms from your midsection as you release her head from your grip, Lucy rushing to stand up.
“Careful now Luce, or I’ll get my pay back in the ring.” You hold your hands up in front of your face in the typical boxer stance, punching them out in a pattern. Right, right, left, right, left, left. At the same time you’re moving your feet against the floor rapidly, kicking them out whilst still keeping them against the floor.
“Calm it Sugar Ray.” She calls out from the kitchen, between the sounds of plates clacking together and utensils clinging. 
“Actually I was going for more of an Ali vibe.” You respond, fighting the smile willing itself onto your face. 
“Actually, Keira said ‘kids’ meaning both of us, so come here and help me.” Keira laughs at the playful shake of your head as you pass her by, her hands stretching up to mess your hair up even more. Dodging her hand as you slip into the kitchen has you triumphant, putting your hands up in celebration like Rocky.
It’s short lived though as Keira comes up behind you to complete her earlier action. You grumble in fake annoyance as you bring out the plates and place them on the table, sitting down in your seat with an overexaggerated  angry expression on your face.
It all washes away though as Keira pinched your cheek lovingly, a genuine smile coating your lips. Dinner was spent in pleasant conversation, spent like a family.
—------
“Jorge Vilda: father to be.” Exclamations of disgust, shock and pure hatred ring out through the Barcelona locker room, some even pausing in the middle of getting dressed to look at you. You yourself were staring down at your phone pretending to read an article. “The former Spain coach announced the pregnancy on his instagram earlier this morning.” 
“What the actual fuck?” Mapi finally gets out after nearly a minute of choking sounds, her face contorted into an expression of disgust.
“This has to be some kind of joke, Satan can’t have children.” Patri adds on, looking slightly green. You’d be more concerned about it if it weren’t for the facepaint you and Pina had applied onto her when she fell asleep first at the sleepover the night before. 
“Of course she’s joking, there’s no article.” Irene takes your phone from your hands, showing the girls in the room what you actually were doing. “She’s playing 2048, we don’t have to worry.” Relieved sighs cling out throughout the room before they realize what you did, multiple hands coming down to slap your head again.
“Stop the abuse, did any of you actually think any woman would get within ten meters of that man? I wouldn’t even if I got a million euros.” Most of the women in the room shake their heads in amusement, though agreeing with you.
“You have got to stop doing that osito.” Mapi laughs out, knuckles digging into your head affectionately.
“I’ll stop when you all stop messing with my hair.” You grumble, smoothing your hair down against your now hurting head, Mapi’s knuckles leaving bruises.
—------
“Luis Rubiales dead at 46 due to unknown caus-” You were cut off in the middle of reading the title of the ‘article’, some of the women in the room jumping up to stand on their chairs, others cheering loudly.
"Hallelujah!” Was heard from multiple people, others settling on just dancing in their spots like they’d won the lottery.
Trying to slip out of the room to avoid having to tell them it was a prank and ruining the joy, you were quickly pulled back by a suspicious Alexia Putellas, her glare so intense that you were shying back from looking at her. 
“Stop the celebrations, cariño was just pranking us again.” Even though Alexia tried to be the stern and serious captain, she couldn’t help the smile stretching across her face at the prank. She could admit when a prank was funny and the fact that everyone believed you, knowing full well that you’d done the exact same thing only weeks before made it that much more hilarious.
“Come onnnnnn, I thought we talked about not doing this bubs.” Lucy calls out to you sternly, but you knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t really mad at you, both her and Keira had amused half smiles on their faces.
“Okay, okay I promise that was the last time. Besides, I don’t think any reaction will ever top the one you just gave me.” 
The women in the room looked at each other and then back at you, seemingly deciding that the best course of action would be to smother you with their hugs and kisses. It was impossible to get away from the mob, the ones closest to you covering your face in platonic kisses, the rest just looked on in amusement, waiting for their own turn to torture you.
And even though it took about 10 minutes to get all the women off you, and back to your parents, you wouldn’t do anything to change them ever. You loved them all, even if they messed up your hair daily.
------------
Translation:
Osito - teddy/teddy bear
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snowy-vee · 3 months
Text
BBM BABY
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n/a: This is just a writing test! Trying to write more things and to get motivated again, Uni is kicking my ass :'( Enjoy idk know how to classify it, maybe...
INDEX
Secret relationship meets commitment issues> Ellie Williams x fem!reader
You were late.
Very late.
As usual.
You finally started breathing at a normal pace once you entered the bar and found your friends' table. You greeted everybody with a 'hi' as you took out your little mirror to see if your makeup looked good or if it was smudged all over your face.
“You look good,” Dina said, passing you your drink of choice, a large glass of rum and cola. “I thought you weren't going to make it.”
“Yeah, I had to wait until my mother left for her night shift at the hospital, and I missed the last bus to come to this side of town, so I had to walk all the way here.”
“That was dangerous. You should've called us to pick you up,” Jesse said, drinking his beer. Dina nodded, agreeing with him.
“And risk my nosy neighbors seeing me and telling my mother? No way,” you said, taking a long sip of your drink and letting out a refreshing sigh at how good it tasted. “Besides, you can take me back.”
You looked at Ellie, who was wearing a black t-shirt and her casual jeans. She raised her eyebrows. “And when did I agree to that?”
“Come on, Ellie, take her back home! Jesse and I are not going home after this, we have plans,” Dina said, exchanging a playful glance with her boyfriend. You gagged, hitting her on the shoulder. “We need privacy! I don’t think I'd enjoy having her or anybody watching us.”
“I... First of all, why do we need to know that after this you two will...?” Ellie said, with a disgusted look, finishing the rest of her soda in one go. Dina shrugged, rolling her eyes and mumbling 'as if you wouldn’t love it’.
“That’s right, babe. Ellie can get jealous; she barely gets any action these months, let’s not rub it,” Jesse said teasingly, making Dina and you laugh as you looked at Ellie.
She locked eyes with you, and your laughter ceased. “Oh, I do get action. In fact, I'm having a lot lately.”
“With who?” you asked, momentarily looking at her hand on your thigh. Obviously, because of the table, Dina and Jesse couldn't see that.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” she said, smirking. You broke eye contact, finishing your drink.
“My girl, that’s some gentlewoman shit,” Jesse said, raising his hand, waiting for Ellie to dap him up, which they did.
“Whatever, let’s dance. I love this song,” Dina said, getting up and grabbing Jesse’s hand to go to the dancefloor with the rest of the people dancing. She was truly a party girl; she couldn’t be in a place without having fun and shaking her hips a little.
“You did not answer my question,” Ellie said, her hand moving up and down your thigh, and your furrowed eyebrows made a playful smirk appear on her face. “Not funny.”
“With who else? Aren’t you my girl?”
“I better be the only one.”
You two were now whispering while looking around. Yep, you two were in a relationship, a private and very secret one. Not even your best friends could know about it.
It wasn’t because they wouldn’t approve or because you two were complete opposites, but because of how your mom and dad would react. Having strict parents was not for the weak, and you knew that if they found out about you sneaking out for some parties, the punishment would be something light, maybe being grounded for months without your phone and you could maybe negotiate with some good grades, but having a partner? That was off the table. And being a girl? You had zero idea if your parents were homophobic; you guys never talked about it, and they never made negative comments about the community.
But if the girl was Ellie Williams, that was a problem, yes or yes, because your dad and Joel seemed to hate each other to death. You did not want to think about how they would ship you off to one of your aunties' houses just to keep you away from her.
Believe that you tried to not feel attracted to her, just keep a casual and civil friendship for the sake of the group. A little bit impossible when she smiled at you, when she grabbed your hand, when she kissed you the first time on the couch of her garage after a blunt session…
“Bathroom break?” she asked, getting up and walking to the bathroom first. You waited a couple of seconds, smiling toward Dina when she looked at you and waved for you to come dance. You shook your head, muttering ‘Bathroom,’ as you got up and went to it.
Soon, Ellie’s hands were around your waist, and her lips smashed into yours; she missed you. This week your mom worked day shifts, so the time you were at school, she was working, and the time you got out, she did too, so there was no time for Ellie to enter your bedroom from your window and have a little moment. And school was a risk with all the gossiping people around.
This was the first kiss you two shared in a week, and it was Saturday, so it wasn’t shocking for you how needy her hands felt caressing your torso; it made you happy. “Can I eat you out later in the car?”
“Ellie!” you couldn’t believe that she broke the kiss and looked you dead in the eyes just to say that. You started laughing. “…yes.”
“I bet you’ve been touching yourself with that image I sent you Tuesday,” you rolled your eyes at her cocky tone and nodded shamelessly.
“I’m sure you’ve done the same with the one I sent.”
“Uh, yes, ma’am… Are you wearing the same blue bra?” Her eyes drifted to your chest; you were wearing a white and blue polo shirt buttoned up, but it was tight, so it made that area pop.
“Just how you asked me to.” With a big proud smile, you lifted her chin and pulled her face up to kiss her again. She started walking towards the sinks, making you sit on one of them once your low back touched it, your legs wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer while her hands were undoing the buttons of your top.
The voice of Dina singing in the hall close to the bathroom made you break the moment and push Ellie into the closest stall. “What the heck-”
“Shh, hide!” You closed the door and quickly pretended as if you were cleaning your hands.
Dina entered the bathroom, going straight to a stall. “This bar is getting lame; I’m ready to leave.”
Her voice sounded a little bit more drunk than it did when you arrived. In less than five minutes, she was finished, and now she washed her hands beside you. She looked at you and through the mirror pointed at your polo shirt.
“It is hot in here; you should have worn something with less fabric,” she simply commented.
“Yeah.” You smacked your lips, making a soft ‘pop’ sound, awkwardly looking around. “If you are ready, then I'm ready to leave too.”
“Yes, let’s hang out more tomorrow in Ellie’s garage.”
“I don’t think I can make it, but Ellie knows that you are planning on going?”
“She’s Ellie, she’s cool with that. If you were less awkward with her, you would know; she does not bite.”
‘Oh, yes, she does,’ you thought, looking at the stall she was in. Dina finished freshening up and grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bar to Jesse’s car.
“Els must be around here smoking. She will take you home; you know her car.” She hugged you and kissed your cheeks before getting in the car, waving goodbye.
Part of you couldn’t believe that she just left you there, even if Ellie was with you, but the other part understood; you also wanted to have intimacy with your lover. Talking about the queen of Rome, she came out of the bar with her car keys in her hands.
“Are they gone?” You nodded, opening the car door after she unlocked it. “Do you want to go to your house? I mean, your mom is not there, and your dad is on the road…”
“I hate when you sleep there and then you have to leave so early so we won’t get caught. I feel guilty. Pass.” You were in the back seat, undressing yourself, revealing the new blue underwear set that she had been waiting to see in person. “Now, drive to some place in these woods and make your wish come true.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Ellie put her seatbelt on, and she drove away from the bar and deeper into the forest. As soon as she parked, she threw herself into the back seat, causing you to burst into laughter.
“I like you so much.” You whispered, brushing your noses and giving her a peck on the lips.
“I love you.”
Before you could understand or digest what she said, she was kissing you with so much lust and passion that you thought you heard wrong. There was no way that she just said the L word like it was nothing; maybe it was the heat of the moment, yeah…
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seventiesweetheart · 4 days
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𓆩♱𓆪 party monster.
dark! ex bf! rafe x pogue! fem! reader
SUMMARY. in which y/n and the infamous rafe cameron once shared a secret relationship, one that she knew the pogues would be heavily against. and so eventually, after a series of events, y/n decided to break up with him and be done with his toxic behavior once and for all. but while sneaking into some kook’s house party with the pogues, she’s caught by the one person she was hoping not to find.
WARNING. smut, dubcon, a bit of violence, implied toxic relationship, oral (reader receiving), choking, manipulative behavior, jealousy, tons of swearing
A/N. this is the first ever fic i’m posting yaaaay >< just a note that this definitely ended up being way longer than i planned, so i might write a part two tomorrow since it also still feels kind of lacking :( but hope you enjoy!
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it wasn’t easy sneaking in. but with sarah’s help, they managed to slip through unnoticed. and of course, jj wasted no time diving into the kitchen where bottles of booze were scattered like treasure, hence why y/n found herself struggling to maintain control of the situation, fearing that at any moment, someone would eventually realize who they were and the fact that they completely weren’t supposed to be here.
to be honest, y/n never wanted to come here. if anything, the last place she wanted to be after her recent breakup was anywhere near the kooks. yet, as soon as john b and jj heard about the party, they couldn't resist the temptation to crash it in true pogue fashion.
as usual, y/n and ki couldn’t bear the idea of those boys getting their asses kicked again, especially after the millions of times that that happened in the past.
“jj, seriously, that’s enough. this is absolutely no place to get wasted right now. please.” she begged her best friend who was now downing his third bottle and moving along to music.
“god relax y/n, no one’s gonna figure us out, alright? just drink, dance, and we’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”
her eyes bored into him, clearly not believing a word he said, “uh huh, you say that now but—“
“c’mon! just dance with me.” before y/n could protest any more, jj had her by the hand, dragging her out of the kitchen and into the living room. the air was thick with the scent of flavored smoke and alcohol. loud trap music pounded from the speakers, the bass vibrating through the floors and walls, matching the rhythm of her racing heart.
“jesus christ…” the girl muttered, watching jj get lost in the music, his head swinging and hair flying as he danced amidst the throng of bodies.
y/n's eyes scanned around the room, her anxiety mounting with each passing second. sweat slicked her forehead as she continuously looked around the crowd for any familiar faces who might recognize them.
and then she saw him.
his pair of piercing grey-blue eyes locked onto hers, sending a jolt of fear through her body. those same eyes flicked between her and jj, and before she knew it, she felt a chill run down her spine.
rafe cameron lounged on a plush couch, arms draped over the backrest with the usual unreadable expression on his face. next to him was some girl who was bent forward towards the glass table, snorting a line of powder. she raised her head back and pinched her nose, waiting for the rush to hit.
but y/n’s focus was solely on rafe. whoever the girl was didn't matter. either way, rafe’s attention was fixed on her, and she couldn't tell if that excited or terrified her more.
snapping out of the daze, she turned to her best friend again, “jj, we gotta go. rafe’s here.” she desperately tried to tug on her friend’s arm.
“jj!” she yelled over the music and that finally caught his attention.
“what?!” he yelled back, irritation flashing across his face at the sight of her anxious expression.
“we have to go! now.”
rafe never liked jj. throughout their secret relationship, he always thought of him to be a little too loud, violent, and far too carefree. on top of that, he also thought jj was always too close to y/n for his liking.
and y/n knew this. she knew both of them well enough to understand that she needed to act quickly before things escalated and this night became another reminder of why sneaking into this party had been a terrible idea in the first place.
her hand wrapped tightly around her best friend’s wrist as she moved as quickly as she can through the crowd in order to find an exit.
but almost immediately, she felt jj's wrist slip from her grasp. her heart dropped as she pushed through a dense cluster of bodies, the press of people making it hard to move.
"fuck, jj—" she started, her voice barely audible over the pounding music.
but it wasn’t jj behind her anymore. instead, she found herself face-to-face with the same pair of ominous blue eyes she saw earlier. she barely had time to think as she shoved past more bodies.
finally breaking free from the crowd, she found herself at the foot of the stairs. without hesitation, she dashed upwards. it didn’t matter, she was going to find a window and get the hell out of here. kiara would find jj, y/n was sure of it. and pope had to be somewhere downstairs as well.
reaching the second floor, her heart raced even faster. she frantically looked left and right, searching for a room to hide in. she pushed open the first door she came to, only to recoil at the sight of two strangers making out.
“fuck, sorry,” she mumbled, cringing as she backed out and moved to the next room.
she hurried down the hall to the last room, cautiously peeking inside. finding it empty, she slipped in quickly.
but the door couldn’t close behind her.
she attempted to push it again, but it wouldn’t budge. y/n stumbled backward as the door pushed back against her efforts, her breath hitching when she realized it wasn’t any problem with the door—it was rafe on the other side.
“closing the door on me again? i’m starting to think you love doing that.” a mischievous smirk played on his lips as he slowly stepped into the room, his presence making the space more suffocating as he closed the door behind him.
the silence in the room was deafening and the growing tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. y/n definitely did not miss the sound of the lock clicking into place.
she could still hear the music blaring from downstairs, the bass vibrating through the walls and floorboards. or maybe this time it was just her own heart, pounding in her chest as she kept her eyes locked on his. every fiber of her being braced for his next move.
rafe took a step closer, his gaze never wavering from hers. the dim light cast shadows across his face, making his expression even more unreadable.
she never expected for this situation to happen again, wherein they would be both locked in a room and none of her friends were even slightly aware of the fact that they were alone together. every instinct screamed at her to run, but she stayed rooted at her spot.
“not running this time?” he inched closer, his voice a low and threatening.
“i know you won’t hurt me.” it sounded like a whisper, as y/n back slowly to the desk behind her.
rafe scoffed, “you say that but i see you still trying to escape from me.”
y/n glared at him, defiance flickering in her eyes “well, what do you expect? for me to run to you?”
his glare intensified, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he moved closer. but then, in a flash, his expression softened.
“i missed you, you know?” his tone turned manipulative, a tactic she recognized all too well from their relationship. she had fallen for it many times before, but she wasn’t going to this time. “i really did, y/n… we were so perfect together and you-you just left without giving me the chance to explain myself.”
“well, i don’t think any more could have been said after you beat the fuck out of my best friend, don’t you think?” y/n's voice grew more aggressive, her anger flaring.
“yeah well he hit me too! and what’d you do? nothing!” he yelled, and she flinched at every word, her body tensing as she tried desperately to find an escape from the suffocating situation.
his breathing grew heavier as he looked at her with pain and frustration in his eyes, “you said you loved me but-but you didn’t even come to defend me.”
“rafe… you started that fight and i-i told you if you laid a hand on any of my friends then that would be the end for us.”
“god, fuck!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. rafe's hand shot out, knocking the floor lamp until it crashed to the floor with a loud shatter, fragments of glass scattering across the hardwood.
y/n flinched, raising her arms to shield herself as she inched closer to the corner where the bed was.
“it’s always you and those fucking friends of yours.” he spat, his face contorted with rage.
and before she could even process his movements, his hand was on her throat, pulling her forcefully towards him. she gasped, feeling the pressure against her windpipe, her fingers clawing desperately at his chest in an attempt to break free.
but even in her panic, she couldn't ignore the familiar sensation of his solid chest beneath her hand.
“and now, let me guess, you’re moving on to that fucking blonde you claim to be your best friend.”
“jj really is just my best friend! p-please, rafe. let go of me.” y/n pleaded as she fought the urge to look at how close his lips were from hers instead of holding the weight of his intense gaze.
“see, that’s where you’re wrong, y/n. i’ve never let you go, and i’m not fucking letting you go now or ever.”
his lips crashed down on hers, the kiss intense and demanding, leaving her gasping for air as she struggled to keep up with his pace. his other hand found her waist, pulling her closer against his body.
“r-rafe…” the moan she tried to hide escaped freely from her lips, coming out as a breathless whisper as his lips trailed down to her neck, no doubt leaving a trail of marks.
“god, l-let me go.” y/n weakly pushed him while he backed her up towards the bed.
“you say that, but your body tells me otherwise. you’ll have to tell me what you really want, sweetheart.”
he continued to suck on her skin, marking her with dark red and purple bruises as his hands trailed down to the hem of her floral sundress. slowly, he slipped his fingers underneath the fabric until he was hooking one side of her lacy underwear.
“still haven’t answered my question, y/n. or do you seriously want me to fuck it out of you?”
his eyes locked onto hers with growing frustration and need, “just fuck me, rafe.”
finally, the mischievous smirk returned to his face, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he leaned in closer.
despite her initial reluctance, y/n lifted her hips, allowing him to easily pull her underwear down until it hung around her ankles.
her hand grew clammy as she clutched the sheets beneath her, her breath catching in her throat as she lay staring at the ceiling.
meanwhile, rafe moved his hand back up her thighs, brushing her skirt up slowly to tease her until the fabric pooled at her waist. she could feel the air around them mixing with his breath against her skin, making her exposed wetness grow colder.
“d’you let anyone get near this after you left me?” his voice came low and deadly as his fingers played at her entrance, sliding against the slick liquid between her lips.
y/n whimpered at his touch, trying to hide her face with her hand while she shook her head in response.
“use your words, princess.”
“n-no, i didn’t.” she stammered out, her breath hitching as she felt his finger plunge through her hole.
satisfaction evident in his voice as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin, “good girl.”
her eyes shut tightly as soon as she felt his lips wrap around her soft bud, tongue lapping over and over it, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body.
“w-wait, rafe! slow down!” she groaned, her hands moving to tightly clutching his hair, her body trembling with the overwhelming sensation.
but rafe didn’t slow down, his hands holding her legs firmly in place before they tried to snap shut and he continued running his tongue over her clit, his warm saliva mixing with her wetness, making his actions even sloppier and faster.
“sh-shit, i’m close—rafe, please.” she begged, her voice thick with desperation. her hips moved involuntarily, seeking more friction and intensity, driving her to buck her hips against his face, urging him to keep going.
her fingers pulled his hair as she arched her back, and rafe buried his face deeper between her legs, his hands gently and possessively molding her thighs like they were lovers. like they never broke up and she had always belonged to him all this time.
“come for me, princess. c’mon.” he voiced breathlessly, the tip of his tongue tracing maddening circles around her bud, pushing her closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.
it was all too overwhelming for y/n. she felt her orgasm building up, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to engulf her completely.
“fuck, rafe!” she moaned, her entire body tensing as her release crashed over her in waves, leaving her breathless and shaking.
rafe wasted no time in savoring all her juices, his lips and tongue eagerly lapping up every drop as they poured onto the sheets of some stranger's bed.
with gentle kisses kisses trailing along her inner thighs, he moved up to face her, delicately wiping the sweat off her forehead and gently brushing her hair out of her face.
still recovering from the intensity of her climax, y/n struggled to catch her breath as she locked eyes with him. the full weight of her actions had yet to sink in but she pushed the thought aside for later as his lips came down again to meet hers, softly grazing the bottom with a gentle nip.
“finally remember who you belong to, sweetheart?”
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© 2024 seventiesweetheart | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.
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