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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months

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Push him

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Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR manager! Reader

Summary: When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you.

Word count: 6.8K

Warnings: smut, bucky is obsessed with your short skirts, bucky is recovering, grumpy x sunshine, good friend natasha romanoff, office sex, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: ‼️so if you haven't seen my previous post, this is my new account. you may have seen this work on my old one (@inmyicyworld) but it was terminated and @support doesn't respond to me. please, follow and share this work. I'm going to reupload all of my old fanfics and hope to get your support ❤️

The work at the Avengers Tower wasn’t what you expected it to be. Tony Stark found you while you were working for another company a little bit more than a month ago. He was amazed by the way you were dealing with problems, by your charisma, and by your ability to find a common language with everyone. That’s how he knew that he had to have you as his partner and a part of the team.

The next day, you got a call directly from Tony, asking you to quit your job and accept his offer to work as Avenger’s PR manager. It would be an understatement to say that your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard your salary.

He said that you were totally worth it and that working with a group of such different people was not easy, but he was sure that you would be perfect at this. So on that exact day, you decided to take a risk and accept the challenge.

One thing that you hated about your previous job was the strict dress code. It was simply far from your style because you hated wearing the same basic and boring clothes every day. Tony said that it was the last thing that he cared about, and in that building, no one was obligated to wear certain clothes.

You knew that it was your lucky ticket.

He was actually really friendly and funny in person. You talked a lot during your first day while he was showing you all the necessary places in the tower: your office, his lab, common rooms and kitchens, avenger’s rooms, and even a beautiful garden on the roof. By the way, Tony allowed you to decorate your office however you wanted and gave you the number of the person who was responsible for this.

In short, it was perfect.

You were giddy with excitement on your first actual day of work. According to the plan, you had to meet with the Avengers and then arrange a few meetings for Tony.

It felt like you spent hours before your mirror deciding what to wear. Your whole room was a mess, and when you finally completed your look, which consisted of a short black skirt, beige long sleeve and a brown leather jacket on top, it was already time to go.

Everyone in the room heard you before they saw you because of the sound of your heels clicking on the wood floor.

“Don’t tell me that this is our PR manager, Stark.” Black Widow looked you up and down with a smirk on her face. “You look good, hun. Finally, someone with a taste in this boring group of losers, besides me and Wanda, of course.”

“Hi.” You nicely smiled, not ready to get a compliment as soon as you stepped into the room.

“Ohh, she’s also the sweet one.” Another red-headed woman, Wanda, said with a smile.

“You both, shut up.” Tony stood up from the armchair with a pack of chips in one hand and threw the other one over your shoulder. “Want some?” He asked you, showing the food, but you slightly shook your head. “Whatever… Now, you all listen here, this is Y/N; she’s our new PR manager. I stole her from someone because she’s incredibly smart and good at her job. Starting from this moment, she’s going to cover up your asses and organize all this stupid media stuff.” You blushed at his words but were still silent. “So, this is Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Bucky, and Th—wait, you already know them, right?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” You chuckled. “By the way, it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope we can work together, and I will have a chance to be helpful.” You took a look at all the Avengers in the room, and everyone looked at you with a smile except one person, whose eyes sent shivers down your spine.

When you looked at Bucky, you saw that his eyes were scanning your body with an unreadable expression, and you suddenly felt really weird in your short skirt. Your eyes met, and his famous death stare was really quite scary. He didn’t like you? You two were staring at each other for a few seconds, and you believe that the rest of the team noticed it because Steve loudly cleared his throat to get your attention.

He asked you a few questions about you, and Clint and Sam made a few jokes. Everything was fine as you all chatted for a little bit until Tony said that everyone should get ready for tomorrow’s mission, and you too have a lot to do.

You went back to your office only with the thought that, during this whole time, Bucky was staring at you like he wanted to burn a hole in your head.

Later that day, Bucky was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of already-cold coffee while Steve was making himself dinner. It was quiet besides the sound of the cooking food, or at least Bucky didn’t listen to Steve’s words because he was too deep in his thoughts.

Well, he was mostly thinking about you and his mixed feelings about this interaction. As soon as you walked into the room, you had his whole attention. He couldn’t help but stare at your body, at your open legs, and at your smiley face. He knew that he sounded like a total creep and that it was inappropriate to look at other people this way, but he had never seen women dress this way. Was it normal right now? Was it new fashion trends or something? The only women that he had been interacting with for the past few years were women from Wakanda, and in the tower it was mostly Nat and Wanda, and he had never seen them dress like that. Or, at least, he just didn’t care enough to notice it.

When he saw you today, he felt something in him, and he didn’t like that feeling. It was something new, something that he had never experienced before, but his body became tense and his stomach tightened. It was weird.

“What, you're still trying to process her?” He was distracted from his thoughts by Sam, who came to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Bucky looked at him and furrowed his brows when he saw a shitty smirk.

“What the fuck are you talking about? And why are you smiling like an idiot?” Bucky growled.

“Because you’re thinking about Y/N.” His words caught Steve’s attention, and he came closer.

“That’s why you two were staring at each other like that?” Steve said this while drying his hands with a towel. “Do you like her? I think she seems cute.”

“No, I don’t. She just looks... different.”

“Oh, the old man got excited by the beautiful woman and her short skirt.” Sam’s smile got even wider as he started teasing Bucky. “You know, I wanted to ask her out, but I can take a step back if you like her.” He leaned on the table so he could get under Bucky’s skin even more.

“I do not like her.”

“So you’re okay if I ask her out? Maybe I should go to her office right now.” Sam pretended like he was really thinking about this.

“Sam...” Steve said.

“You both are just getting on my fucking nerves.” Bucky’s chair almost fell to the floor when he angrily stood up. “Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care about you or her.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, and Sam started to laugh out loud.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Steve shook his head like a disappointed mother whose kids always fight.

“That was fun, and maybe it’ll push him to ask her out. She’s hot, but not my type; I’m just trying to help this idiot.”

You have been working with the Avengers for over a month now. This work was literally a dream from any angle. You were making a lot of money, doing the job that you really liked, and found a lot of close friends.

Almost everyone on the team was very close to you. Natasha and Wanda were particularly your best friends. Sam was the funniest person you’ve ever met, and he always found time to tease you or to make a compliment. Bruce and Clint were like your uncles—a little bit old and annoying, but always with a piece of advice for you. A few times, you and Steve met at the gym when you came to work too early, so he was happy to train with you. Who would’ve thought that Captain America himself would teach you how to throw a punch?

The only pain in your ass was Bucky Barnes. Well, to be fair, he didn’t do anything. You’re not even sure that you heard his voice. He was always just staring. Any time that you came to the room and he was there, you either saw him from the corner of your eyes or felt his burning gaze on your back.

To this day, you had no problems with your job. You organized a few interviews for Tony and Steve, talked to the newspapers and magazines, and held some meetings, but right now, sitting on your white chair, you felt weirdly nervous.

Bucky had to come here any minute to talk about a recent accident. Apparently, he almost knocked out someone on the street. All the press and news sources were taking advantage of the situation and using loud headlines to cast a shadow on Bucky and get more views. “The Winter Soldier is back?”. “The Winter Soldier almost killed an innocent man on the street.”

It has been the biggest topic on the internet for the past few hours. Most of the people were furious and wrote too many inappropriate and rude things. So you asked FRIDAY to call Bucky so you could know the whole situation and give comments to the press as soon as possible.

You started thinking about what you should do, or, to be more honest, how to behave around Bucky, because a few days ago two red-headed women that you now considered your best friends assured you that he is in love with you and just doesn't know what to do with it.

You told them everything about his weird actions—that he always looked at you, checked your clothes, and stayed silent. Natasha and Wanda just looked at each other with smirks on their faces.

“Why are you looking at each other like that?” You arched an eyebrow and crossed your hands across your chest.

“Please, don't tell me that you don't understand his behavior.” Natasha looked at you and sipped her coffee.

Well, I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew the reason.”

“Honey, he lust likes you and thinks that you’re hot. You remember that he’s actually an old man, right? Women from his time didn’t dress like that, and you look really sexy.” Wanda’s words made Nat nod her head as you looked weirdly at both of them.

“That’s bullshit, Wanda. This can’t be true. I'm sure that he just doesn’t like me and thinks that I look too revealing. Or he just hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time.”

“Some time ago, I came to the kitchen at like 2 a.m. just in my lingerie because I thought everyone was asleep. Barnes was sitting there with a book, and you know what? He just said “Hi” and didn’t even look at me again while I was making a sandwich. And when he sees you, he just can’t take his eyes away and stares like an idiot.”

You stayed silent, thinking about the girls' words, because everything seemed pretty reasonable.

“And what should I do?”

“I don’t know, seduce him or something.” Natasha just casually said it, and your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Wait, do you like him?” Wanda asked you, and Natasha huffed like it was obvious.

“I mean… he’s beautiful. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, but Steve and Sam love him, and I trust their opinion.” You stopped trying to put together your thoughts. “To be honest, sometimes I think about the fact that he’s probably one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. When we studied history at school, all the girls fell in love with America's Boy, and I with his best friend.”

“Then don’t wait. Just give him some hints, because I swear, for the ladies’ man, he’s too slow.” Natasha’s words made you smile. “Try to get closer to him; I don’t know, flash him with your boobs and look at the reaction. Push him a little bit. He’ll break.”

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump out of your chair.

“Come in.” You said this as you stood up and fixed your white dress and cardigan.

Bucky came probably to the lightest and most cozy room in the whole tower. A lot of white and pastel colors, comfy sofa and armchairs, and paintings on the wall. And in the middle of this was you—always perfectly looking, in heels, in a too-short dress, and with a smile on your face. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the smooth skin of your legs. It’s probably so soft...

“Em– Hi.” You awkwardly stood while his eyes were scanning your body. He didn’t answer; he just nodded. “So I think that we can sit there, it’s more comfortable.” You wave your hand at the sofa with a fluffy cover on it. “Do you want anything? Tea, coffee, water, soda?” Bucky just shook his head while he was trying to comfortably sit with a frown on his face.

You deeply inhaled while trying to be a professional. You didn’t know what was wrong with this man, but his behavior started to get on your nerves.

“Bucky, we can’t work together if you keep ignoring me. You can say if you don’t like something, because I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone.” You sat across from him and crossed your legs.

“I don’t know what I should say.” His deep voice filled the room. Bucky took a pillow that was lying near him and started playing with the fringe. “I feel weird when I’m around you, and I don’t like it. I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have.” His eyes scanned your body once again, and you wondered if he was talking about what you thought.

“Can I do something to change it?”

“No.” He deeply inhaled. “It’s my own problem, and it’s not your job to try to fix it. Anyway, why am I here?”

“I think you know why. I need to ask you about the recent incident because I have a meeting with the press in less than an hour, and I have to give them a good reason why you did that. People didn’t take all that information too well.” You saw that Bucky sadly smiled and looked you directly in the eyes, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “So, tell me what’s happened.”

“You know that whatever you say won’t change people’s opinions about me, right? No one forgave me, and they’re still looking for a chance to call me a murderer.” He tried to hide behind a smile, but you saw everything written in his eyes. Bucky hurt himself with his own words.

“I understand how you feel about this whole situation, but we should address all those rumors because things might get worse.” You leaned on your knees with your hands, and Bucky’s eyes immediately fell on your boobs.

Push him a little bit. He’ll break.

You tried to hold back a smirk.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “ I– um– I was walking from the coffee shop to the tower. It was another busy street with hundreds of people, but I still didn’t expect someone to touch me. That man jumped on my back or something, and my instincts just worked. I threw him over myself on the ground and put a hand on his throat. Turned out he wanted to take a picture. But I panicked because there are many people who want to take revenge and who might want to do it literally any second. I’m always ready for this.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but you could hear the pain in his voice.

You felt deeply sorry for the man before you. Even if he was cold and acted weird around you, you knew that it was his way to protect himself. After everything he came through, you couldn’t blame him.

“Do you still go to the therapist?” You gently asked.

“Yes, two times a week.” Bucky nervously ran his right hand through his hair while still holding your pillow in the metal one.

“Okay, that’s good; I can work with this information.” You nodded and reached for your journal on the coffee table. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky. I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to convince people that it was not your fault, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stood up, carefully putting your pillow in its place, and left your office without another word, while you were sitting there with a smile.

Maybe the girls were right.

After that day, everything between you and Bucky became even weirder. Yes, he wasn’t totally silent now, and you’ve got a few “Hi”, but his stares felt different.

It was like you two were playing some kind of game. Since you knew that he didn’t actually hate you, you tried to do as Natasha and Wanda said—get his attention and push more. And God, you loved that game.

Almost every day you found an opportunity or excuse to see him in common rooms or in the corridors of the Tower, and you made sure that Bucky noticed you. You wore tighter clothes, walked right past him, and looked at him with a smile. You knew that it was working because a few times Bucky just suddenly left the room while he was mumbling something.

It was almost 8 p.m., but you were still working on schedule for the next week. There was some kind of charity event, and Tony required you to convince everyone to go there because more Avengers can attract more sponsors and money. As always, Bucky was the one who refused to go there. He simply sees no reason for him to be there, and he doesn’t want to be there alone because he knows that Captain America will be the biggest star, and such a social butterfly as Sam will leave him in a second.

You decided that it would be better to talk to Bucky in person, but you didn’t want to lose a chance to get his attention, so you went by yourself instead of asking FRIDAY.

You looked in the small mirror to check your makeup and hair and went straight to where you knew Bucky was spending his evening. As you walked in a dark room filled with only light from the TV, you saw Sam and Steve sitting on the couch and Bucky on the armchair near them. You quietly walk to him and just casually sit on the armrest. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and you heard that the chewing from the boys stopped. Bucky had no choice but to put his metal arm on your lower back.

“I need you in my office. You have to talk about the next charity event. Could you please give me some of your time?” You quietly asked and lowered yourself closer to him. Bucky was just staring at you for a few seconds, but then slightly nodded.

Bucky followed you to your office, not without getting smirks from the boys,and then stood near your table with his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t you want to sit?” You said and stepped closer to him.

“No.”

“Um– okay.” You took the papers from your table and stood in front of Bucky. “So, you know that there is going to be a charity event, and I’m responsible for getting all the Avengers there, and you are one of them.”

“I’m not going, I already told Tony.” He just shrugged.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not needed there. I’m not an actual hero, people have no interest in me, especially when there will be Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, you know? Plus, I have no interest in sitting alone the whole night.” You saw that Bucky tried to be casual about it, but he just put salt on his own wound.

“Don’t say that, Bucky. There are people who want to see you there, you have a lot of fans. You know, I’m going there too, so if you don't mind, we can–”

“What game are you playing with me?” He interrupted you. Bucky straightened his shoulders, which made him look even bigger, and started moving closer to you, putting you in a trap between him and your desk.

“W– what do you mean?” You couldn't control your body as you started to tremble a little bit from the power that this man had. As soon as you bumped into the table, his hands landed on both sides of you, and his face was right in front of yours.

“Don’t act clueless, Y/N. I see what you’re doing.” He stopped for a second, studying your face. “You know, I tried to convince myself that you do all of this by accident, but now I’m sure that you’re just playing your little game. Am I right, doll?” You two were staring at each other, and you felt almost nauseous from different emotions.

He was so fucking beautiful up close. Piercing blue eyes, pink lips, and light stubble You know why many women thought that James Barnes was charming. If he had more confidence, he would’ve been unstoppable.

Your eyes slowly shifted lower to his arms and chest as you remained silent. He was big, with well-trained muscles that were seen through the tight black t-shirt. Both arms were stretched near you, so you had a really good opportunity to look at the smooth tanned skin and beautiful dark vibranium. You felt how your lower stomach tightened just from the thought of getting those pretty hands on your body…

You were pulled out of your head by a sudden movement of Bucky’s hand, which gripped your face and pushed your lips together. He was obviously dominating in the kiss, as if he were desperate to taste you. The tip of his tongue brushed over your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily gave him. The moan came out of you when Bucky moved away and looked you in the eyes, still holding your face.

“This whole fucking time I thought that I was a creep for looking at you, but now I know that you did everything on purpose, doll.” His eyes moved between your eyes and mouth. “All these short skirts and dresses that almost showed me everything underneath it, all these innocent smiles and looks... You did it to tease me?”

“Not at first...” You mumbled. “But you were acting so weird, and girls said that you liked me and just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find out whether it was true or not.”

“Fuck, if I knew earlier that this was your plan, I would’ve bent you over the nearest surface, baby.” Bucky moved a little closer, brushing his lips over yours. “Do you know how fucking hot and gorgeous you are? I haven’t felt that way in many, many years. Just wanna kiss you and make you mine.”

“And what’s stopping you from this, Sargent?” You asked with a smile and moved your hand to the back of his neck to gently play with the baby hairs.

“You’re gonna be my death, doll face.” He mumbled before leaning closer and kissing you again.

This time, you started to touch each other's bodies. Bucky’s warm and cold hands landed on your thighs, playing with the hem of the skirt and rubbing your soft skin after he lifted you up a little bit and helped you sit on the table, staying in between your legs. Your own hands were moving up and down his broad chest, discovering all of his muscles.

“Bucky…” You whined into the kiss when his finger brushed against the edge of your already wet panties.

“Tell me.” Bucky moved away from your swollen lips and left a path of kisses down your neck. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He sucked a sensitive spot under your ear, which made you moan.

“I don’t know. Just do anything, please.” You both breathed heavily. You felt like you were too hot; your lower stomach ached, and your underwear was soaking wet. Bucky was looking at you with such lust in his eyes that you wanted him to destroy you.

“Lay back.” He ordered you as one of his hands went higher under your skirt and slid your black lace panties down your legs. You didn’t miss how Bucky shoved him into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk on his face.

You quickly followed his instructions and just threw all the papers from our table on the floor. You’ll regret it later, but now you don't care. The sudden move of Bucky's metal arm grabbed and pulled your shirt, and all the buttons scattered on the floor, making you gasp in disbelief.

“Bucky! It was expensive.”

“Sorry, I’ll buy you whatever you want, I promise. But now I need to see you all.” He growled and fell to his knees before you. “Fuck, doll, such a pretty pussy. I’m gonna make a mess with her.”

Bucky’s hands grabbed both of your legs and threw them over his shoulders. He dragged your skirt higher, not wanting to take it off of you. His head fell on your right legs as he left a few kisses on your sensitive skin.

“Bucky please! Don’t tease me!” You desperately whined.

“I need a moment to appreciate both of you. I haven’t done it since the 40's, you know that?”

You wanted to say something, but his mouth on your most delicate part of your body left you speechless and made you grab his hair. Bucky’s tongue was gentle at first, just to get a taste of you and tease you a little bit. His tongue started to play with your clit, circling it and applying different pressures to find out what made your body twitch. It looked like he was enjoying it too; you felt deep grunts escaping his mouth as he was trying to catch every drop that came out of you.

Your loud moans filled the room as Bucky found the perfect place and made motions that made you see stars. A hand in his hair tightened even more when you felt one of his fingers at your entrance.

“M-hm, so wet and tight for me.” He pulled away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers came in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were firmly glued to your pussy, which was trying to get more, and his mouth opened a little bit at the sight. “Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Bucky attacked you with his mouth again. This time he was licking your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. When the feeling of his nose touching your bundle of nerves came through your whole body, you gripped Bucky’s dark locks even harder, particularly trying to ride his face, and he had to put his metal hand on your hips so you wouldn’t move.

Your body tensed when he curled his fingers right on your g-spot, sucking your clit like a hungry man.

“Bucky—fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop!” You whined with tears running down your face.

A few more movements of his magical mouth, and you fell over the edge. Your legs tightened around his head, tingles went all over your body, and the loudest moan mixed with Bucky’s name came out of you as you were riding on the wave of your orgasm.

Bucky didn’t stop, though.

He made sure to lick every drop that came out of you, to the point that you had to beg him to stop because you were too sensitive.

“That was—“ You were trying to catch a breath. “That was the best orgasm I've ever had, oh my god. If you did it for the first time in like seventy years, I can’t imagine what you can do with practice.”

Bucky dragged you up by your neck, so you would be at the same level with him. His hand moved your hips closer to the edge of the table, and you felt how hard he was through those jeans.

“I can practice whenever you’ll allow me, doll.” He put his warm hand on your face to kiss you. The taste of your own release on his tongue made you moan.

“Need you inside of me, please.” Your hands automatically started to pull up his shirt, but he stopped you.

“We don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”

You were silent for a few seconds. “Why wouldn’t I want to take your shirt off?”

“You know, my arm and scars...”

“Do you really think that I care about it?” You left a few kisses on his cheek. “I think that your arm is hot, by the way, and I want to feel your skin on mine, Sarge.” It was enough for Bucky to pull off his shirt and stay before you half-naked.

Your hands moved to trace every muscle, every birthmark, and every scar on his chest, and you felt that this moment was so intimate, especially because of Bucky’s stare. He looked at you with such adoration and softness that you wanted to melt.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He mumbled and kissed you with even more passion.

Bucky ripped off the rest of your shirt and quickly took off your matching black bra, gripping your breasts with both hands and taking your left nipple in his hot mouth.

You dug nails into Bucky’s back as he was sucking and licking your nipples, leaving them wet in the cold air. It felt good. So fucking good—his mouth was truly amazing. But the emptiness inside of you was almost painful, and you were clenching around nothing.

“Bucky! Sarge, please, I need you.” You almost cried and dragged his head by the hair back to your mouth.

“Baby, baby, wait– “ His hot breath was touching your lips, but he stopped your hands, which were unbuckling his belt. “Baby, I don’t have a condom. Fuck, do you have one?”

“We don’t have to use it... I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” Your legs wrapped tighter around Bucky’s waist and put him closer to your naked core. He swore that he could feel your heat through his jeans and boxers.

“Fuck, I love twenty-first century... I’m clean too, can’t even catch a disease with this serum shit.”

His words were like a green light to you. You didn’t want to wait even a second more. So you just took off his pants with such speed and impatience that it made Bucky chuckle. With the last movement, all of his clothes were on the floor, and you sat on your table, frozen because of the sight before you.

Bucky’s thick and perfectly long dick was the best fucking thing that you’ve ever seen. Pink and a little bit curled to his abdomen. Your mouth watered just thinking about tasting it. Or how well he’ll stretch you out. You didn’t even notice how your mouth opened a little bit, and you unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.

“You’re gonna destroy me, Bucky.” You mumbled, to which you heard only a deep chuckle. Your eyes moved back to Bucky’s smiley face.

“I hope so.”

Two different hands landed on your thighs again, spreading and lifting them up. You both looked down at where his cock almost touched your bare folds, and the first contact made you moan loudly. Bucky took the base of his cock, giving himself a few pumps, and moved the tip up and down your pussy, moving easily because of the mixture of your juices.

You grabbed his forearm and whined at the action.

“Ready, doll?” He was trying to be tough and strong, but you saw how he nervously licked his lips, the tremble of his flesh hand, and the tension in his abdomen. But you still vigorously nodded.

It was different from everything you’ve ever experienced. He was big but tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt you. He only pushed a few inches, but you already wanted to cry from all the feelings inside of you. Pain mixed with extreme pleasure.

Bucky was trying so hard to control his motions and go slow, but God, it wasn’t easy. From the first touch of his cock, it felt like he had gone to heaven. He knew that sex was good, he remembers it, but the feeling of you and your warm body that so gracefully greeted him inside made him feral. Bucky felt such a need to kiss you that it was almost painful, especially when your swollen lips were a few inches away from his.

He leaned in closer to your lips, but it made him slip deeper into you, which made you both loudly moan into each other's mouths.

“Fuck– doll, you’re so warm and tight, oh my god.” Bucky mumbled as the grip on your hips became harder. It’ll probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care.

The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming. He was so deep and stretched you just the way that you wanted, and you almost cried from pleasure.

“Please, Bucky, please move!”

His hips slightly moved once, and it felt like his mood instantly changed. You were suddenly pushed back on your table, and your legs, still in heels, were thrown on Bucky’s shoulders. His metal hand stayed on your thigh, and the other one fell on your stomach to push your skirt higher on your waist.

“All dressed up for me, baby.” He started slowly moving, burying his cock deep inside, and then leaving only the tip to tease you. “You know how long I wanted to do that, huh? Bend you over and just fuck the shit out of you until you can’t say anything except for my name.”

“Bucky– Sarge, please go faster. Just fuck me, do whatever you want.” You were desperate, yes. But you couldn't help but beg, because you really needed him to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of you.

You reached for his hand on your stomach and interlaced your fingers together.

“If you keep calling me that, I won’t last too long, doll.” His thrusts became harder and faster as your body moved up and down on your table.

Bucky was looking at your drunk-looking face with a slightly open mouth because you couldn’t keep your moans quiet. Your hair was deshiveled, your skin glimmered with sweat, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

“So beautiful, baby.” Bucky murmured, fucking you harder. The room was filled with loud noises from slapping skin and moans. “You love it when I talk to you like that, huh? Want me to tell you what a good girl you are?” His words definitely did something to you, and you unconsciously tightened around him. “Almost choking my cock, baby, fu-u-ck.”

“Mhm, Sargent, I’m so full of you.” You couldn’t see straight as the tip of his head pressed at the perfect spot with every thrust, it was too much and not enough at the same time.

The wet kisses on the inner side of your thigh sent shivers down your whole body when Bucky started to suck tender skin. His rough movement didn’t stop for a moment, and you knew that your orgasm was getting closer. The warm feeling in your belly slowly became bigger. It was hard for you to cum from sex, but Bucky did it so fast and without even touching your clit.

“C’mon, doll face. I feel ‘ya. Feel how your perfect little pussy is squeezing me. Cum with me, baby, cum on my cock.” His movements were still rough and confident, but you felt the slightest change in the way he was looking at you, how his body trembled a little bit, and the prettiest quiet noises escaped his mouth as Bucky was coming to his own end.

You were completely lost in your pleasure, with strong arms on your body and Bucky’s hard cock that was completely destroying you, so when fingers on your clit started to move in circles, your body slightly jolted up from your table.

“Bucky, Bucky, please—ohmygod, I’m coming!” You cried out loud and grabbed the hard wood under your arms.

“O-oh, fuck, doll, cum with me, please. Yes, squeeze my cock harder, make a mess. ‘M gonna cum.” With the last few pushes of his dick inside of you and movements of the fingers, you both fell from your heights, and the room filled with loud moans of pleasure. The feeling of his hot seed on your walls almost made you faint.

Bucky fell down on your body as your leg slipped from his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped around you, and Bucky’s face nuzzled into your neck. You don’t know how long you two stayed silent, trying to catch a breath, while your hands gently rubbed Bucky’s back.

When he finally lifted himself up with a metal arm near your face on the table, the look in his eyes sent millions of butterflies to your stomach.

“I don’t even know what to say…” He chuckled and cupped your face with his right hand. “You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

“Even when my makeup, my hair, and my clothes are completely destroyed?” You playfully arched an eyebrow and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on your hot skin.

“Well, I did it, and I’m satisfied with it. You still look so hot, especially with my dick still inside of you.”

“Bucky!”

“Sorry, sorry. But I’m serious, though. Will you let me take you on a date? Maybe yesterday for lunch or for dinner after work?” His eyes had this little bit of doubt, and you couldn’t stop your wide smile because he was really thinking that you would say “no” after that.

“I will be glad to go out with you, Buck.” You dragged his face closer and gave him the sweetest kiss you could.

Bucky moved away, gently slipping out of you, and you hissed at the empty feeling. He helped you stand up on your shaking legs and handed you your clothes.

“Fuck, you completely destroyed my clothes.” You said as you were standing in front of the mirror. “How will I go home?”

“You can stay in my room.” Bucky came closer to you and helped you make your blouse look more presentable, even without buttons.

“Really?”

“Of course, doll. Just hold your shirt in case we bump into someone in the corridor, but I think everyone is already in their rooms.” Bucky finished dressing up, and you saw your underwear sticking out of his pocket.

“Don’t you want to give me my panties?”

“Na-ah, you’ll have to walk with me dripping out of you.” He gave you a cocky smile and turned all the lights off before wrapping his arm around you and leading you into the hall.

It was completely empty, but the second that you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Bucky’s best friends looking at you. All of you were looking at each other for a few seconds before Sam started hysterically laughing.

“You owe me fifty bucks, idiot!” He said to Steve, who was as red as a tomato. “Good job, Buckaroo, but I really thought that we were gonna ask her on a date first.”

“Fuck off, Willson.” Bucky growled, protectively stepping forward to protect you from their looks.

“Okay, okay, relax, no one’s touching your girl.” He said with a cocky smile on his face. “Let’s go, Steve. You’re too innocent to look at things like this.” Sam took his friend and led him in another direction.

“Asshole.” Bucky growled.

“Everything is okay, Buck, let’s go.” You stepped closer to his room, but he was still standing in his place. “I have to take a shower. Will you come with me, or will you stand here the whole night?” You smirked.

It was everything he needed to finally get closer to you, scoop you into his arms, and carry you into his room to the sound of laughter, which soon turned into moans.

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mynamesaplant · 3 months

Text

Forgiveness is Electric

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.

Enjoy!~

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“I do not think she will like those.”

“Who doesn’t love sweets?”

Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.

It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.

Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.

“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”

“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”

Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.

He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.

It had just backfired on him horribly.

Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.

Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.

It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.

This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.

Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?

Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.

Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.

That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!

“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”

Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.

Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.

Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.

“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”

They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.

“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”

Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.

“Ingo!”

It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.

“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”

Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.

“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”

While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.

“You guys alright?”

Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.

“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”

There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.

They’re just kids.

“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”

Another pause. Another exchange of glances.

“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”

“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”

“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”

The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.

“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”

“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”

Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.

“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.

“Volume control.”

Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.

“You didn’t see them?”

“No…”

The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.

“Headphones?”

Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.

“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”

It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.

“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”

Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.

“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”

The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.

“I think these ones are quite dashing.”

Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”

They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.

“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”

Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.

“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”

Plusle and Minun headphones.

#pokemon #submas #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #sorry critter #i started writing about Tynamo before i remembered he probably didn't have it by that point #im just gonna say newly acquired and cross my fingers #tynamo is shy #nobody knows about it #🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

title: toyin’ with them older guys

pairing: bartender!joel miller/female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

chapters: 1/1

read on ao3 | masterlist

summary:

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder.

But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation.

Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

author’s note: thank you to everyone who hyped me up to post this when i wasn’t sure how i felt about it. your comments mean the world 💕

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), alternate universe - no cordyceps outbreak, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol references/consumption, possessive behavior, jealousy, mild violence (in the form of Joel kicking someone out of his bar), brief reference to Sarah’s mom and divorce, tinder dates, bribery, dirty talk, begging, pet names, praise kink, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), spanking. let me know if i’ve missed anything!

There’s a bar near the university that you love to go to for multiple reasons.

For one, they have great drinks. For two, their loaded tater tots are the best drunk food you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.

But the number one reason, above all else, is the grumpy bartender and owner, Joel Miller.

The first time you saw him, he was challenging a kid with a fake ID, his arms crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing the strain of his flannel over his biceps. When the kid tried to take a swing at him, he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before marching him out of the bar and kicking him to the curb.

Your friend had to remind you to breathe.

He hosts a trivia night at the bar on Tuesday nights, the perfect excuse to see the man weekly. You sit at the bar each time, scribbling your answers on the notepad as you sip on a vodka cranberry and sneak glances at the older man while he works.

One night, you were struggling to answer a question about where the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed when Joel leaned across the bar, bringing his lips close to your ear to say, “New Zealand.”

You’d gotten the point, thanks to him. And from that day forward, he’d linger near your corner of the bar, watching to see if you needed help with an answer. Eventually, you started showing up earlier and earlier for trivia night, just for the chance to talk to him.

You told him about your PhD program and the research you were conducting. You wanted to be a psychologist, but for now you’re just a perpetual student. You miss winter weather in Colorado, but appreciate not having to store a giant jacket anywhere in your small apartment. Your favorite season is fall, and your favorite holiday is Halloween.

He tells you about buying the bar a few years ago, after his divorce from Sarah’s mom and ensuing custody battle had been finalized, an investment he made with his brother Tommy. They’d fixed it up themselves and made it a popular local spot. His favorite movie is Indiana Jones and he prefers whiskey over any other drink.

It’s no surprise that along the way you’d fallen in love with the man.

Too bad he’d never feel the same.

————

Joel remembers the first night he saw you. Your rosy cheeks and tipsy smile as you leaned forward to say, “Vodka cranberry, please. With lime .”

“Lime, huh?” He remembers saying. You nodded your head vigorously.

“The lime is the best part,” you insisted. He chuckled.

“Not the vodka?”

“Gross, no.”

He tossed in three lime slices and you shimmied your shoulders with glee.

You come into the bar, alone, for trivia night on Tuesdays now. You’re a fountain of random facts, but every once in a while he’ll feed you an answer to help you out because he likes the smile that you give him in return.

He has no right to be looking at you the way that he finds himself doing every week. Eyes wandering to the way your jeans hug your ass or drifting to your cleavage when you rest your elbows against the bar.

But between the conversations and the trivia and the sweet smiles, he’d gone and fallen in love.

Which is why when you come to trivia night with a man who wraps an arm around your waist, Joel loses his goddamn mind and does the stupidest thing ever.

You get up to go to the bathroom and Joel leans across the bar to address the guy, keeping his eyes on the bathroom.

“I’ll give you $100 if you leave right now,” Joel says.

“What?”

“Hundred bucks if you walk out that door and don’t talk to that girl again,” he says again. He digs his wallet from his pants and pulls a bill out, setting it on the bar top.

Without further question, the man grabs the money and stuffs it in his pocket as he heads out the door. Joel feels a flash of guilt when you return from the bathroom and look around for your missing date.

“Said he had an emergency,” Joel lies. He’s surprised when you look relieved.

“He was kind of boring, anyways,” you shrug, dragging your notepad and pen closer to you. “He probably would have just dragged us down.”

Us, Joel thinks.

He could get used to that.

________

Your friend, Marie, had convinced you to try out Tinder. She was absolutely certain you were missing out on the love of your life by not swiping mindlessly through profiles that held no interest to you.

You weren’t about to confess your unrequited love for the local bartender to get her off your case, so that’s how you ended up on a date with Michael. He was a law student and liked kayaking and hiking.

You liked neither of those things, but he had curly brown hair and you had a type, so why not give it a shot?

You didn’t have it in you to be too upset when you returned from the bathroom only to find out from Joel that Michael had left. Joel slid you another vodka cranberry with lime and your night went as it always did.

When Marie asked you the next morning how the date went and you told her he bailed, she insisted on picking your next one. She chose Scott, a financial analyst at a local bank.

You’re starting to think Marie doesn’t know you very well.

Regardless, you show up at the bar for another trivia night date. Scott is tall and lean, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore a suit to a bar. When you comment on it, he pulls a face and says he came straight from work.

“Not all of us are lucky enough to not have real jobs,” he says. You blink at him, surprised by the hostility.

That hostility continues when Joel approaches the two of you at the bar, lips turned down in a scowl, and Scott decides to order for you.

“She’ll take a vodka water with lemon and I’ll have Bulleit, neat.”

Joel raises his eyebrows at Scott, his eyes flicking to you briefly, before he sets a plastic cup on the bar top. He holds Michael’s gaze as he pours a shot of vodka into your cup, before using the soda gun to dispense cranberry juice. You have to bite back your smile.

“Vodka cranberry with lime,” he says, sliding you your drink. “And your whiskey will be right out.”

“That’s not what I ordered,” Scott replies.

“Yeah, but it’s what she would’ve.”

Scott sputters, face going an alarming shade of red with his indignation.

“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, taking your drink with you as you head to the bathroom.

________

“I’m not paying for that drink,” the blonde asshole says, knocking his knuckles against the bar for emphasis. Joel huffs a laugh.

“I don’t give a shit, kid. I want you out of my bar,” he says, planting both hands on the wood.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my bar.”

“I’m on a date!”

“Not anymore.” Joel rounds the bar and gets up in the little weasel’s face. “Get. Out.”

The boy’s eyes go wide, like he realizes that maybe Joel isn’t playing around. He scrambles from his barstool, standing to his full height like he’s about to challenge Joel.

“You can’t kick me out, old man,” the blonde snaps.

Joel’s had enough. He fists a hand in the starched white shirt collar, driving him back towards the exit. The other patrons move out of the way, some whistling and cheering Joel on. He shoves the man out the door and looks at the doorman.

“He doesn’t come back inside,” he says. “And you? Don’t ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Joel returns to the bar as you’re walking up. For a moment, he worries that you may have seen him acting like a caveman getting rid of his competition, but you look around in confusion.

“Where’s Scott?” You ask.

“He forgot about somethin’ at work,” Joel says. Your brow furrows.

“Kinda weird that’s happened to me twice now,” you comment.

Joel just shrugs.

________

You don’t tell Joel about how you saw him throw Scott out of his bar that night.

You’d just left the bathroom when you saw Joel stomp out from behind the bar, his eyes dark and fixed on your date. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but based on the affronted way Scott was responding, it wasn’t anything good.

You crept closer to the scene, but stayed amongst the crowd. Joel marched Scott backwards with a fist tangled in his collar, shoving him out the door.

“And you? Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Your mouth went dry at his words and your mind reeled at the implications. Was he doing this from a place of friendship? Or…could he maybe feel the same way you do?

Only one way to find out.

You call up Travis, a good friend from undergrad who still lived in town.

“Trav, I need your help,” you say when he answers the phone.

“Burying a body type of help or financial type of help?” He replies easily.

“Actually, more experimental.”

“I don’t swing that way.”

“No, listen to me, I have a hypothesis,” you insist, explaining the situation to him. How you’ve been on two dates at Joel’s bar but each time, the men have left without another word. And how after what you witnessed, you’re inclined to believe that it’s not a coincidence.

You ask Travis to come with you to the next trivia night. All he needs to do is pretend to be there on a date with you. A bit of hand holding, maybe an arm around the waist. Nothing more.

“But what if he tries to threaten my life?” Travis asks.

“Well…I mean…every experiment has risks,” you reply flippantly. He sputters indignantly down the line. “I’ll buy you your drinks and get you tater tots.”

He’s silent for a moment before responding, “Fine. Extra jalapeños and I’m not getting well liquor.”

“Thank you!”

________

You come into his bar with another man. His arm is draped over your shoulders as you approach the bar and Joel has to set the glass he’s drying down before it shatters in his hands.

“Joel! This is Travis,” you say, gesturing to your date. He forces a smile, reaching a hand across the bar to shake his hand.

“What can I get started for you?” Joel asks. The man, Travis, orders an old-fashioned with top shelf whiskey, while you request your regular.

“I’ll be right back,” you say as Joel is pouring the drinks. You weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms and Joel leans in to address Travis.

“I’ll pay you $100 to leave this date,” Joel says.

Travis smirks. “Make it $200.”

“Are you serious?”

“That depends, are you?”

Joel’s eyes flick towards the back of the bar and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out four fifties, dropping them on the bar.

Travis pockets the money before adding, “You know, there’s cheaper ways to get the girl.”

“Get out,” Joel grunts. The younger man laughs his way to the door, and you appear at the bar a moment later.

“Where’d Travis go?” You ask.

“Oh, he—“

“Can I get an order of the loaded tots?” Travis asks, cutting Joel off from making up an excuse for his absence and sitting back down on the stool beside you with a shit eating grin. “She owes me.”

“Owes you?” Joel asks through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, she lost a bet. I told her I could get the number of that guy over there in less than three minutes and she doubted my charm.”

“Travis and I went to undergrad together,” you explain. “We just wanted to hang out and catch up.”

Shit.

________

Travis decides to leave after two plates of loaded tots and one too many drinks. You help him call an Uber, but you stay behind as the bar starts to clear out.

It’s just Joel behind the bar, wiping down the wood and setting bottles back to their rightful spots as you sip from a cup of water. The kitchen has closed down and the music has been shut off, leaving the two of you in loaded silence.

“So…,” you say, twirling your straw in your near empty cup. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Joel’s shoulders go tense before he releases a deep sigh, turning to face you. The bar separates you, and it feels like miles of distance when all you want to do is get your hands on him now that your hypothesis has been proven.

Joel Miller likes you. And he’s been sabotaging your dates because of it. Perhaps you should be more upset, but all you can feel is an effervescent giddiness bubbling in your veins.

While he struggles to find the words, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You reach across the bar, hooking your fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him forward. You lean over to meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his.

You pull back and look into his eyes. The coffee colored brown of his irises seems darker, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

________

Joel’s got one hand on the wheel of the truck and the other resting on your thigh. He has to keep a hand on you because he’s worried that if he doesn’t anchor himself, he’ll wake up from this dream.

You kissed him. You reached across the bar and dragged his lips to yours in a way he’d only dreamed of doing a thousand times since you’d sauntered into his life.

He can’t help the small smile that tilts his lips up at the thought.

“What’s got you smiling over there?” You ask, your voice teasing. He glances at you.

“You do, darlin’,” he says. He relishes in the pink that blooms across your cheeks at the pet name.

Joel drives to his house, parking the truck in the driveway of his little bungalow. His bachelor pad, as Tommy calls it.

Maybe not for much longer.

He circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you down from the cab. He keeps his hand on your low back as he leads you up the porch steps and through the door.

You toe off your shoes in the entryway, letting them join the pair of sneakers Joel left by the door. You’re wearing a pair of socks with tiny cats printed on them, the sight so endearing to him he can’t hold back his laugh.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothin’, just…like the look of you here. In my house,” he says.

“Yeah?” You take a step closer to him, toe to toe as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging your body against his. The heat of you even through the layers of your clothes sends a shiver down his spine.

You press your hands to his chest, sliding them up and over his shoulders before linking them behind his neck.

“You gonna give me a real kiss?” You whisper back. Your lips are so tantalizingly close that they ghost across his as you speak.

He closes the distance, lips dancing with yours as he kisses you senseless. The feel of you against him, moving with him, sends sparks skittering across his skin. He’s unable to hold still, hands roaming from your back to your waist to your hips as your mouths part and your tongues tangle with increased desperation.

Joel slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, crouching slightly to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your core slides against his growing hardness and he groans at the sensation as you let out the neediest whimper.

He wants to hear more.

He walks you both through the empty house until he reaches his bedroom, tossing you on top of sheets still rumpled from last night’s sleep. You scramble to sit up on your knees, moving to the edge of the bed and curling your fingers into the waist of his jeans.

“Can I suck your cock, Joel?” You ask, voice all breathy as you stare up at him with your big doe eyes. “Please?”

Joel’s mouth has gone bone dry. “Yeah? You want my cock in that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart?”

You nod your head, fingers working on the buckle of his belt. His hands work in tandem with yours to get his fly open, shoving the denim down his thighs until he can step out of them. His cock tents his boxers, a wet spot already apparent on the fabric and he watches as you reach a hand out to stroke him, a groan escaping him at the feel of your warm palm against him.

“Take your clothes off and get on your knees,” Joel commands. He lifts his own shirt over his head as you unbutton and remove your pants, shimmying the tight fabric down your legs. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as he watches you lift your shirt up and off.

His eyes rove your body hungrily. Your perfect tits and gorgeous curves, the way you flush beneath his gaze.

“Come here, baby,” he says, crooking a finger. You come to stand between his legs and he reaches around your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers.

“You’re rather skilled at that, Mr. Miller,” you tease.

“I’m old, not dead.” He slips the straps from your shoulders, tugging the last barrier between him and your tits away. “God, baby, these all for me?”

“Mhm,” you him as he wraps his hand around the weight of one breast, thumb teasing your pert nipple.

“Tell me somethin’,” Joel asks, “why’d you bring all those boys around when you knew you needed a man?”

You lick your lips. “Didn’t know if the only man I wanted would want me back.”

Your voice is small and vulnerable as you say it, and that just won’t do. “Don’t just want you, baby. Need you.”

Your face lights up in the brightest grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, digging his fingers into your hips. “S’why I had to play dirty.”

Your smile turns downright salacious. You drop to your knees, running your hands up his thighs. “Show me how much you need me, Joel.”

________

Joel shoves his boxers down, exposing his cock to your hungry gaze. It’s gorgeously thick, the head a dark red from his arousal, a pearl of precum sitting in the slit. You lean forward and dart your tongue out to gather it.

“Don’t tease, sweetheart,” Joel says through gritted teeth. You keep your eyes fixed to his as you take him in hand, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head before taking him further into your mouth.

His hand is instantly in your hair. Not pressing, but his fingers tangle in the strands and tug deliciously against your scalp. He moans as you take him as far back into your throat as you can manage.

“Fuck, your mouth is better than I ever dreamed,” he says, voice rough.

“You’ve thought about this?” You ask when you draw back for breath, hand pumping his length in place of your mouth.

“‘Course, baby. These pretty lips wrapped around me, beggin’ for me to make them all swollen and used,” he says, standing and bringing a thumb to your lips and swiping it across their spit slick surface. “Open up.”

He uses his thumb to press against your bottom lip, opening your mouth as he takes his cock in hand and feeds it slowly between your lips. The smooth, hot length of him dragging across your tongue makes you moan.

“You like that, baby?” He growls, pumping his hips in shallow thrusts. “Like me usin’ your mouth how I want?”

You try to nod, your movement restricted by the grip of his hand that’s returned to your hair. There’s spit trailing down your chin and tears gathering in the corners of your eyes from the effort of keeping your mouth open for his thick length. You know you must look like a mess but with Joel staring down at you with his lust drunk expression, you feel on top of the world.

“I gotta fuck you, baby, will you let me, huh? Let me feel that pretty little cunt strangle my cock?”

You hum around his length and he withdraws, tugging you up by your hair and pulling you into the dirtiest kiss, all tongue and teeth and blatant desire as he turns your bodies, shoving you down onto the bed.

Joel slips an arm beneath your low back, using it to pull you up the bed as he crawls on to join you. He positions himself between your legs, tearing the soaked fabric of your panties down in a frenzy.

He slides his fingers through your wetness before bringing them to his lips, sucking them into his mouth with a groan.

“Christ, I’m gonna feast on you for hours, baby, but I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says.

“Then fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg, lifting your hips so that his cock slips through your center. “Come on, wanna feel you.”

He lines himself up, pressing into you with a delicious stretch, the slight sting of it making you whine. He shushes you, not stopping until his hips press against the back of your thighs.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it,” he says, leaning forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making him go impossibly deeper. “Tell me when I can move, sweetheart.”

You shift your hips restlessly beneath him. “Please move, Joel, wanna feel it.”

Joel pulls back before slamming forward, the force of it making you slide up the bed as all the air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. His grin is sharp as he does it again and again to the tune of your desperate cries.

“Joel!” You cry, clawing at his back with each thrust. “Fuck, yes, yes!”

He withdraws abruptly, the loss of him as you clench around nothing making you whine pathetically. With a bruising grip on your hips, he twists your body until you’re on your belly, ass in the air and chest pressed to the mattress.

Joel slides back inside your tight heat, a palm slapping across one cheek then the other as he resumes his powerful thrusts.

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so goddamn tight,” he growls. A hand presses to the back of your neck for leverage, changing the angle yet again. “Can you cum for me? Can you soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, I bet you can.”

You nod, the movement restricted, but you can’t form words. All you know is the feeling of Joel pounding into your body like he owns it.

The hand on your hips moves to the front of your body, fingers finding and pinching your clit. You sob against the mattress, the sheets wet beneath you from tears and drool.

“Come on, baby, fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Won’t fill ya up until you do.”

That’s the visual that does it. The thought of Joel finishing with you, inside of you, dripping out of you too much for your lust addled brain. With a shout, the thin remnant of your control snaps and you pulse around him.

“Fuck yes, that’s it, sweetheart, good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, his hand leaving your neck as he sits up, his tempo fast and sloppy as he chases his release through yours. “You want me to cum in this tight little cunt, honey.”

“Yes, please,” you manage to slur, muffled by the sheets. With three more harsh thrusts, he does as promised, spilling inside of you with a shout.

He slows before withdrawing, your body collapsing against the mattress without him there to hold you up. He chuckles as he flops beside you, dragging you into the cradle of his body.

“You done playin’ games with those boys?” He asks, smiling smugly against your neck.

“Yeah, think I might be into older guys,” you tease. He pinches your hip, making you laugh.

“See if I ever help you during trivia again.”

________

Joel’s standing in front of you, arms crossed with a scowl on his face as you stare up at him with pleading eyes.

“Come on, baby, help me out,” you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes.

“Last call for an answer to our final question! What is the only song credited to all five original members of the band Fleetwood Mac?”

Joel sighs, biting back his smile. “The Chain,” he tells you. You scribble the answer, running your paper up to the emcee. When you return to the bar, you lean across the polished surface and tug him towards you, planting a kiss to his lips.

He drags you back for another kiss. And another.

“Anytime, darlin’.”

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow

Join the tag list here!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #no use of y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x female reader #joel miller fluff #joel the last of us #ao3 author #read on ao3

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nocasdatsgay · 1 month

Text

So Where Do I Start?

Pairing: Eris x F-Reader | Rating: E 🌶️| Eris POV

Word count: 2256 | one-shot | Read on Ao3

Summary: You aren’t fully comfortable with your post baby body and Eris is not having it.

CW: an off screen baby, post baby body, insecurities, sex

A/N: I’ve never had a baby but I do have body issues 😂 there is also a part where Eris thinks about how much he basically missed the intimacy- don’t misconstrue it as him needing sex. I worried when I wrote that. If enough ppl like it I’ll post it on ao3 🫣 I put it on ao3

No tag list for this one cause I don’t want to subject ppl to baby content if they don’t want it 🫣

Eris had been flirting with you all day. You’d asked around lunch what had gotten into him and honestly he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it was the fact you’d both gotten decent sleep, your babe finally being at a point where they could sleep through the night. Maybe it was the fact things had slowed down for him, having finally caught up with paperwork and meetings now that he’d returned to focusing on high lord duties after the weeks spent helping with the baby.

Or maybe he just loved you. Which was nothing new.

Of course when you both got into bed, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Soft kisses deepened and he pushed up your nightshirt, determined to pull it off but you shoved at his hand. He pulled away immediately, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered. Gods, it felt like it might kill him but he’d do it.

“No.” You didn’t look him in the eyes. “I just, I don’t want,” your voice trailed.

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Your gaze met his. You frowned at him. He frowned back. He tried to think of what was bothering you. It had been a few months. Recovery from birth was one of the longer healing processes even in high fae. It was highly possible you weren’t ready despite Edith stating you’d healed up perfectly a month ago. Just because you were cleared didn’t mean you were ready.

“I can wait,” he added. “I am more than happy just keep kissing you.”

“No.” Your eyes widened. “No, I want you. I do. I just. Maybe just leave my shirt on?”

He frowned again. “My love, we talked about this.”

And you both had. He noticed immediately when you started staring too long in the mirror and when you changed up your style of clothing. It took him weeks to convince you to bath with him again, to let him see you fully nude in a neutral setting.

“I know, but this is different.”

“How is it different?” He chuckled and you pouted at him. He sent his love through the bond hoping you’d forgive him for laughing.

“What if- I just don’t think I can handle it if, you know.” You bit your lip and looked away.

“If what?”

“If you- gods Eris you’re such an ass, don’t make me say it.” He grinned at you and it only flustered you more. “What if I kill your mood?”

He blinked, his own eyebrows raised up. “As if you haven’t smacked me several times already in the past month because I have gotten handsy in the bath.”

“That was different,” you protested. “You were just playing.”

He let his voice drop low and put his hand back on your shirt when he replied. “I never play with how much I want you.” He could smell your arousal spike back up. He made sure to lower hand and trace his fingers on your thigh. “Let me show you. If you still don’t believe me then we’ll stop and I’ll go to sleep in the study. Do we have a deal, my fire?”

“Gods you don’t play fair,” you said breathlessly.

“Whatever do you mean?”

He’d already distracted you enough to get his hand farther up your thigh, the shirt inching up with it. He reached your hip, his fingers running over your infernal underwear.

“Can I?” He asked, hooking a finger on the band.

“I don’t know. Can you?” You smarted back.

He looked you straight in the eyes when he replied, “I can and I will.” Then he set your underwear on fire, ensuring it only burned the fabric away and not your skin.

“Eris!” You yelled and pushed up the bed in shock.

“Hush, you’ll wake the baby, love,” he chuckled and used his magic to clear away the ash.

“You set my underwear on fire.” You hissed.

“I did. And I’m about to set that shirt aflame as well if you don’t let me take it off you.” He grinned.

“Fine. But if you can’t get it up, I am cutting your cock off and stuffing it down your throat. Then I’m murdering you.” You hissed and tugged up the nightshirt to pull it over your head.

“I love it when you're feisty.” He purred, his eyes immediately wandering down your body as you tossed the shirt off to the floor. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Start?”

You tried to cover yourself but he was not having it. He crawled over you, grabbing and pinning your arms by your head. He watched in real time your pupils dilate, your eyes going near black.

“I said I would show you how much I want you,” he leaned in and brushed his nose against your own. “So where do I start?”

For once he’d rendered you speechless. Good. He didn’t need you arguing with him when your opinions were clearly wrong. Especially when he let you go and sat up to look you over again. The mother truly blessed him by putting you in his path. He made sure to push that down the bond and smirked at your cheeks darkening.

“I know these are the babe’s favorites.” He whispered. He traced a finger around your breast. “It’s wrong of me to say this but I do enjoy it when you pull my hands up your top.”

“Eris,” you hissed.

“It’s true.” He grinned. “You get my warm hands pressed against your sore breasts and I get to hold you.” You blinked at that confession. “My mate, did you think I had nefarious reasons?”

“I thought you just liked to touch my breasts.”

He shrugged, “what is that phrase my brothers keep spewing when they cheat at cards? A win is in fact still a win?”

You rolled your eyes. He continued moving his finger down your sternum and traced around your stomach. You frowned.

“Despite how you feel, I do love how soft you are now.” His fingers moved around to your side and traced your hip. “And how wide your hips are now.”

“I don’t. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe. That was expensive.”

You then yelped and jolted as he moved over you, putting one leg between your thighs to wedge him apart.

“As if I care about the cost. These hips carried our baby.”

He leaned in and kissed the valley between your breasts. His left hand cupped your right breast when he kissed down your chest again. He could feel you relax under him and grinned against your stomach. He maneuvered himself so he could switch and cup your other one against his heated palm.

“I swear that’s all you're good for,” you teased, placing your hand on top of his. “Male hot stone.”

He slid down further and nipped his teeth at the skin above your belly button and he felt you tense again. He knew you hated how soft your stomach was and how the skin there was still recovering from being stretched to accommodate your child. He’d spend the rest of his life convincing you it was a blessing if he had to. Because it was.

“This beautiful belly of yours,” he kissed your stomach, “made our perfect babe. That was all you, my fire.”

“I know.” You didn’t sound convinced.

Eris knew it would take time. Even if he was impatient, he wouldn’t argue with you. He learned a long time ago that only made you stand firm in your thoughts. Instead he pressed more open mouth kisses along your stomach, pulling his hands away to loop his arms under your thighs. He didn’t miss the way you gasped or how your scent sweetened. He definitely didn’t miss the humming want you were pushing in through the bond. He rolled his hips into the bed like a fuckin youth just to relieve his own tension.

He wasted no more time, eager to get his mouth between your legs. He pulled your legs apart and peppered kisses on the inside of your thighs. You were still tense; something he had not encountered since the first time you were together. Despite your apprehension, you were still wet for him. He tried not to be smug as he put his mouth on you and your body relaxed in his hold.

He moaned as he licked up your center, your taste and smell overwhelming him in the best way. It was almost muscle memory, his tongue moving against your already swollen nub in a way that had you grabbing him by his hair. And by the cauldron, did he miss your hands in his hair.

Eris had planned to take his time. Take you apart slowly and remind you how much he loved you. Your body had other plans. You rolled your hips against his face, and he sucked and licked harder. He didn’t even get his fingers in you before you moaned and arched on the bed.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you came, panting and yanking his hair as he worked you through it. You had enough when you pulled him up.

He laughed. “That’s a record.”

“Is it?” You were still gasping.

“You really know how to stroke a male’s ego.” He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should take breaks more often.”

“Insufferable.” You muttered.

“I’m about to be even more insufferable,” he said with a sly tone.

He made certain you were looking when he rolled his pants down, his length springing free and curving up on his stomach.

“Still doubt me?” He smirked and stroked himself.

You groaned. “Fine, I believe you.” Despite your tone you gave him a loving look. “Now hush and come fuck me.”

Eris kicked off his pants and crawled over you. There were no words exchanged as your legs fell open and he seemed to settle in place with ease. You gasped when he reached in between you both to guide himself into your slick heat. He groaned almost too loud when he bottomed out into you and stilled.

By The Mother he missed this. Being so close to you; being physically connected to you. The bond between you both tight, filled with love and passion. He laid there for a moment to savor it. He kissed you deeply and used his hand to bring your leg up farther on his waist.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead to yours. “I swear I’d put another baby in you right now if Edith wouldn’t kill me.”

“I think I would kill you.” Your tone was amused rather than annoyed, thankfully.

“And what sweet death it would be,” he muttered.

He kissed you again and propped himself up on one of his arms. The shift alone felt like lightning shooting up his spine. He realized at that moment he shouldn’t have laughed at you for coming apart so quickly. Eris groaned and cursed when he rocked his hips.

“Know how to stroke a female’s ego.” Your laughter faded into a moan; Eris thrusted into you a little harder.

You were both mostly silent after that. Eris’s mouth was preoccupied with kissing every inch of your face and chest he could reach. You were biting your lip when he wasn’t kissing you so you wouldn’t get vocal and wake the baby. He could feel you plateau through the bond, both of you just enjoying the feeling of being together in this way again.

He finally moved up and put your leg up over his shoulder to let him dive into you harder. You sighed and he felt your pleasure spike through the bond. He tried to not be smug about it. He reached his hand between you and rubbed his thumb gently in time with his thrusts. He grinned at how you mewled.

“Can you come for me again, love?” You nodded. He was close himself, his breathing haggard. “Will you do that for me? Come with me.”

It took a few moments before you arched off the bed again and flooded the bond with your pleasure. He groaned coming right behind you, but not stopping until you stopped pulsing around him. He dropped your leg and damn near collapsed on top of you.

Eris pushed himself off you with a groan, still catching his breath. “I think I need to start training again.”

“Overwork yourself?” You giggled “I think that’s just your age showing.”

Eris bit back a retort. After a moment he reluctantly moved off the bed and muttered he would get you a towel. Sleepiness was creeping into his bones while he cleaned himself off and wet a hand towel for you. He grabbed his pants off the floor where he tossed them and before he returned to bed, he peered into the nursery. Your babe was still fast asleep.

It seemed you were also sleepy when he crept up to the bed and saw your eyes closed. He made sure to heat the towel with his hand before maneuvering it between your legs and cleaning up the mess he made. You inhaled sharply but only blinked at him. He incinerated it once he was done.

“You’re so dramatic,” you grumbled at him.

“But you love me,” he said and leaned in and kissed you again before crawling into bed.

“That I do,” you muttered and scooted over to him so you could cuddle until you both fell asleep.

#gods I’m nervous about this one folks #no one asked for it but here you go #daddy!eris #post baby!f-reader #acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris acotar

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owliellder · 8 months

Text

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 3: Blocking In Color

It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.

You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.

Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.

You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.

Leon hasn't. You could just tell.

Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.

Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?

You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...

If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.

You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.

You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.

Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.

He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.

He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.

Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.

It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.

Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.

Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.

Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.

All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.

None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?

Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.

Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...

Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.

But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.

Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.

It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.

Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.

His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.

After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.

Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.

That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.

Simple enough, he could do that.

The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.

The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.

He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.

As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.

For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.

Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.

As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.

Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.

It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.

A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.

The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.

Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.

"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.

Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."

Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.

"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."

Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."

He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."

Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.

The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.

He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.

His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.

During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.

Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.

You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.

Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.

You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.

You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.

You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.

So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.

You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.

Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.

The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.

"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.

You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.

Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.

The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.

You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.

It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.

That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.

"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.

"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.

"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.

"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.

By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.

Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.

"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.

He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.

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festive · 1 year

Text

✿ - cyno x fem!reader

content+warnings: fem!reader, pet names used, established relationships, vaginal penetration, vaginal fingering, use of vibrators, multiple orgasms.

✿ - a/n: posted on my ao3 a few days ago, decided to post here. anyways more scholar!reader x cyno. happy holidays, y’all!

++ tagging: @bubble4u @thicksimpx

Cyno's been worried about you; lately, he's overheard from the other students just how hard you've been working — day in and day out, dedicating yourself to your studies; even Faruzan had mentioned you once or twice to him in hopes that he could help.

Although, as clever as Cyno was, not even he knew what he could do — yeah, Cyno could play mother hen and tell you not to overwork yourself, but even he knows you're way too stubborn to listen, and you would probably shrug him off with 'just five more minutes.

Not knowing how he could help, he turned to a friend. He's thankful he caught Kaveh when he did, much to the blonde's dismay seeing as how Kaveh was complaining about being locked out again.

But considering how fond of Cyno, Kaveh was, as soon as he heard the dilemma, he was more than willing to help. He had given the smaller male plenty of solutions, yet they all led him to the same place.

A foreign goods vendor on the outskirts of the bazaar, that's what the eccentric blonde had told him.

Cyno walks around mindlessly, his eyes falling on all the different shops and trinkets that decorate the way. From the candy to the freshly baked goods, he'd bring you some later as a treat after he buys what he needs first.

Cyno did a fantastic job brushing off all the cowering looks he received from countless people, wondering what archon-forsaken thing sent him to the bazaar. Even with his disguise, the jackal ears that stood proudly on his hood were very distinguishable.

Look for the stand on the furthest part of the bazaar. It's hard to miss. Kaveh's words ring through Cyno's head. The stand on the most distant part.. he murmurs.

And sure enough, after walking for what felt like hours. There stood the shop, hidden behind two other stalls, draped in deep purple and golden clothes — although nothing distinguished this seller from the others.

"Are you the shopkeeper?"

He's greeted by a taller woman that dwarfed him completely in height, with darker skin — long purple hair that was parted down the middle, but what stood out the most was the pair of long, fluffy ears that protruded proudly from her head, reminiscent of Tighnari's, and the geo vision that rested upon her neck.

"Why yes, you're correct, young general mahamatra," Cyno quirks an eyebrow, and the woman laughs, pushing aside the candles and other exotic goods across the counter. "I am Sheba. I've heard all about you from Kaveh,"

Sheba, as she calls herself, ducks underneath her desk. Cyno can hear her fumbling with whatever's under there — watching as her puffy tail sways back and forth until she finally gets up.

"I have exactly what you need," Her cerulean eyes beam, lighting up in joy as she places an item on the counter, nearly pushing it into Cyno's hold.

Cyno glances at it expectantly, snatching it off the counter.

It looks like it's made of the same advanced technology the ruin guards are made of, he thinks — knowing exactly what their reactor cores look like, he finds it odd how the device has the same designs.

"Is this a weapon?" Cyno asks, curiously looking over the wand-shaped item he was handed — the object's outline reflecting in his ruby-red eyes. Cyno's seen many odd devices, runes, and mechanisms, but nothing compares to this. He continues examining it, checking for any blades.

The merchant laughs, nearly doubling over in amusement. "Hah, surely you jest?" Then, wiping at her eyes as water collects around the edges.

Cyno stares at her blankly, lips formed into a straight line before summoning his weapon. Sheba jumps, eyes locking onto the sharp blade of his polearm.

"Ahaha, no need for violence. Here, allow me to demonstrate," cautiously Sheba gestures towards the device, palm shakily reaching forward until finally, Cyno places the object in her palms. She chooses her following words wisely, she's heard of all the rumors and tales that circled the General Mahamatra, and she was determined not to be the next story in the tavern.

"Look," Sheba says while pushing one of the buttons. Cyno watches as the device's intrinsic designs glow before it starts up, the blunt end of the object vibrating furiously. "See, like this," The woman laughs awkwardly, trying to save her hide.

"I see,"

To further sell her point, she starts talking about how advanced the piece of technology is. "It's popular amongst the women in Fontaine. In fact," She drawls, watching as Cyno looms in closer. "they all recommended this as their best way to relieve built-up stress."

It's working. Cyno's further intrigued; his ears perk up when she mentions the stress part.

"And look," Holding out the device, Sheba waves it around before pressing another button. "It even comes with different vibrations, and you can control the speed!" She chirps, demonstrating all its settings.

"How much," Cyno asks, arms folded against his chest.

"200,000 mora."

"That's a scam,"

Sheba sighs, ears drooping dramatically before taking the toy in her palms. "I guess you don't really want to help your beloved that much," She turns away, a sly smirk playing on her lips while she waits for the white-haired man to fall victim to her ploy.

And just like that, it happens.

"I love my beloved wife very much," Cyno grumbles, reaching for his pouch that carried all his mora before dropping it on the counter. "It's yours."

"Sold," Sheba beams, "and just for you, I'll wrap it, just like a gift!"

After completing the transaction, Cyno picks up his purchase before trailing off.

Kaveh was right. His friend was a lovesick fool, Sheba thinks.

"Thanks for the purchase. I hope to see you again soon." She beams, waving off the smaller man, praying to the archons she'll see him again — fools like him were her favorite, easy buyers.

Cyno didn't even realize he was gone for so long until he felt the cold desert air brush against his skin, making haste towards your home away from school.

He can see the candle-lit room from your opened window. The more he peeks in. Finally, he can see you hunched over your desk on the other side.

He's quick and quiet — effortlessly sneaking in through the open window. You don't even realize he's in your room until he speaks up.

"My dove," his voice is soft but enough to startle you, nearly causing you to shriek as you jump in your seat.

"Oh, archons, Cyno, you nearly gave me a heart attack." You sigh, your heart still pounding from the scare you received mere minutes before.

Your lover apologizes, "You've been overworking yourself," Cyno points to the bags that have grown underneath your eyes, then to the paperwork in front of you.

"I know," You let out a heavy breath, "but look, I'm almost done," Before you pick your pen up, Cyno snatches it away, careful not to hurt you.

"Tonight, I want you to relax,"

"But,"

"I'm not asking you. You will," Cyno's voice is stern, causing you to lean back in your seat, defeated. Your eyes wander to the bags placed in his hands, and soon enough, his gaze follows yours.

"What's that," You point. Cyno merely shrugs, placing them both on your bed before digging through them. You're quick to recognize the smell that wafts through the air.

"Padisarah pudding," you inquire, sniffing the air for good measure. "I want it,"

A gentle smile tugs at Cyno's lips as a soft laugh escapes him. "After,"

You huff. "What else did you get?"

Cyno's hands fumble with the other bag. You can hear the sound of paper wrinkling as he searches for whatever it is. "A foreign gift," unboxing the 'gift,' Cyno holds it up.

You nearly choke on your spit as you realize what he bought precisely. "That's a vibrator," you cover your face in embarrassment, having heard countless stories about how your friends had enjoyed them.

"A what," Cyno looks at you perplexed, as he examines the vibrator again. "The merchant said this was popular amongst the women,"

You try to stifle a laugh, although you fail horribly. "Oh, I'm sure it is,"

As soon as you stop laughing, you explain to Cyno its purpose, feeding his curiosity as he stares between you and the toy.

"Can we use it?" Cyno asks all too eagerly.

"What,"

"Can we try it,"

Although embarrassing, it's pretty endearing seeing how eager Cyno was to use it. You nod, "I don't see why not, but how do to go about this?" Then, you question, did he want to watch you use it? You wonder.

A sly smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, "You'll see."

The buzzing sound coming from the vibrator resonates through the room — mixed in with the soft gasps and whimpers that fall from your lips.

"Cyno,"

Your lover hums, rubbing circles into the softness of your breasts. Your legs are shaking above his, and it's getting harder for you to keep them extended —- sensing this, he spreads them even further using his limbs; your knees fold over him as he forces them open.

"Relax for me, my dove," Cyno dips his head further into the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses upon the column until finally, his lips stop behind your ear.

"You've been working so hard lately, let me take care of you." The drop of timbre in his voice, mixed with his warm breath fanning against your skin, is enough for the hair on your neck to stand up while it sends shivers down your spine.

Leaving no room for argument, you recline to your fate — allowing yourself to relax as the toy rubs against your clit, massaging the poor bundle of nerves in a tantalizing slow motion.

"Cyno," you moan breathlessly as you allow your body to lay limp against his — closing your eyes, you let your head lul against his chest as you focus on the sensation, allowing your fantasies to race through your mind.

Cyno's hand plays with your breast while the other grips the vibrating wand, holding it between your legs as the heads nudged between your folds, vibrating against your clit.

The position your lover has you in is embarrassing, leaving nothing to be hidden as you're forced to stare at your semi-naked body in the mirror. In addition, your robe is awkwardly out of place, the ends bunched up around your waist, while the top is undone, hanging loose enough to expose your chest to the cool air.

"You're so beautiful," He praises, and you gasp — the toy bringing you even closer to your orgasm. You grab his wrist, your breaths becoming shallow as the coil in your tummy tightens.

"'S close," You slur, fidgeting in his lap, your ass grinding against his growing erection with enough friction to cause him to groan.

Even his grasp on the vibrator becomes shaky, as you continue to grind your hips against his, bucking your cunt into the toy.

"'S close, 's close," You cry out, Cyno presses another button, and you can hear the faint click before the head of the toy speeds up.

Although there's another faint noise, and just as you're about to cum, the toy stops — leaving you pent up at your high without a way down before the feeling disappears.

You look at Cyno horrified, and he mutters a string of curses under his breath. "Stupid cat, selling me a defective good," he swears in reference to the merchant from before.

"I—" he bites on his inner cheek, "I can fix this," Tossing the dead toy to the side, Cyno traces your folds with his fingers. Your slick catching on his digits. "You're so wet," He breathes against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss on your skin.

You shudder, feeling Cyno sink his fingers into your heat. He starts with two, slowly pushing them in and out of your cunt — slightly stretching your hole with each thrust.

"More!" You whine, and you can feel Cyno's muscles flex against your back as he hunches over you — speeding up his ministrations.

As soon as your slick pools around him, he slides in an extra finger — curving them just enough to prod and poke at your spongiest spot that has you seeing stars.

He's sure he's found it by how your thighs quiver around his and how your breath hitches in your throat. Finally, he pulls back, retracting his fingers before sliding them back in with enough precision to impale that sensitive spot inside you.

Spots of white decorate your sight as that familiar feeling from before comes back. Your hands claw at Cyno's muscular thighs, your nails leaving scratches across his flesh.

"Gonna cum," You moan, drool spilling from the corner of your lips. You nearly lose it as you feel Cyno thumb at your clit — vigorously rubbing circles into the hardened nub.

Your body falls limp against Cyno's hold, your orgasm hitting you hard as he lazily pumps his fingers inside you while your walls spasm around him.

He kisses your temple, his lips soft against your skin.

"You did so well. You know that?" Cyno hums, and you can still feel his erection straining against you.

"What 'bout you," you slur, still hazy from your orgasm.

"Ah, don't worry about it," He says, placing a chaste kiss upon your lips.

"But I want to," Your hands weakly fumble with the hem of his pants until you finally free his cock — he hisses, feeling you guide him towards your cunt. Spreading your folds with his shaft as you grind yourself against him.

"You're dangerous. You know that?"

Cyno lays with his back against the bed, beads of sweat forming along his brows as he anxiously watches you.

You lift your hips slightly, aligning yourself with the leaky tip of Cyno's cock — rubbing it up and down your folds.

Cyno groans, and you feel him shudder underneath you before he mutters out a quick ‘don’t tease me’, there’s a pause, and you hear a ‘please’ after — it’s small, but desperate enough for you to almost feel bad.

"Sorry," you mumble, sinking your hips against his. You nearly choke on your spit as Cyno's cock forces its way inside you — his sheer girth alone, feeling like it'll split you in two.

A soft moan escapes Cyno's lips as he bottoms out, the warmth of your gummy walls wrapping around him going insane.

There's a smirk on your face as you lean closer to Cyno, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Gonna take care of you,"

You wait for a moment, giving yourself enough time to relax around his girth.

Cyno, unsure of what to do, places his hands loosely on your hips, the tips of his thumbs rubbing circles in the softness of your skin.

His eyebrows are furrowed, and you can see his lips quiver as he tries to hold himself back — his flustered expression was cute, you think.

Your pace starts off slow while you relish in the way your lover's cock fits inside you — much to his dismay, Cyno rolls his hips against yours, desperately looking for more friction.

"Cyno," You moan, and the man underneath you groans, gritting his teeth — he can barely take it. He needs more.

Cyno doesn't say a word, and the grip on your hips becomes bruising, but before you have the chance even to think — you're flipped onto your back with your lover looming over you.

"Cyno," You look at him in surprise. Cyno readjusts your body into a better position — throwing your legs carelessly over his shoulders as he guides his cock back toward your hole.

You nearly choke on your spit as Cyno slams into you with a relentless pace, your arms wrap around his body in hopes of grounding yourself — though the more he ruts into you, the harder it is for you to think.

Especially when the tip of his cock pounds against your cervix with each movement while his shaft drags along your walls — all you can think about is how good he feels inside you.

"You feel so good," he groans, although you can barely register the words coming from his mouth. Your brain feels fuzzy, and it's getting harder for you to concentrate.

Cyno's name falls off your lips like a prayer as he continues thrusting into you, your walls squeezing tightly around him — it's not long before he pulls another orgasm from you.

This time you scream, falling slack against the covers. Cyno wraps an arm around you, almost possessively, while he readjusts your body to slam into you with a better angle.

He pants, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with a pap noise. He's close.

All it takes is a few more thrusts before his cock twitches for the last time — spilling his seed inside your cunt as he idly thrusts into you until he's sure you've thoroughly milked him.

The mixture of your juices seeps out from your folds as he pulls away with a squelching sound. His hold on your waist falters, but his arm still rests across your flesh. You can feel the sweat dripping from him.

You both don't say anything, preferring to bask in the silence of your post-orgasmic bliss and enjoy each other's presence. Until your stomach growls and your eyes shoot open. Suddenly you remember the treat he had brought before.

“Cyno, I want the pudding!”

#cyno x reader smut #cyno x reader #cyno x y/n #cyno x you #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact x you smut #cyno imagines #genshin drabbles #cyno smut

2K notes · View notes

floralcyanide · 4 months

Text

⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑒: 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑒.

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: the first time you meet coriolanus snow, you're unsure how to gauge him. but a conversation opens a new door for you politically. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: consumption of alcohol ⊹ word count: 3331 ⊹ author’s note: I'm so excited to finally post this hehe. I know everyone has been so hype about this series and I'm proud to introduce to you the first chapter. any feedback is welcome. ♡

౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune

౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.

❝A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on.❞ ― John F. Kennedy

It’s a peculiarly warm day in New England despite traces of snow still blanketing the dead grass in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts. A blizzard had blown through the night you arrived, and the remains of the storm are now melting away with each passing moment. A veil of mist hangs in the air by the ocean, the mixture of freezing sea water and balmy air still trickling in from the middle Atlantic lingers. You’re watching the thin fog swirl around in the cool breeze as you stand in front of the formal living room window. The Kennedy Compound is just far enough from the beach that you can see it clearly from the front of the main house where you currently reside. And though a part of you longs to be outside after being cooped up for days due to that nasty winter storm, you’d rather not be bombarded with the still fairly bitter and salty air. Thin, long sleeves cover your arms as they cross over your chest despite the warmth of the fire in the den nearby. The house is still and silent. Everyone seems to be off doing their own thing after dinner wrapped up not long ago.

At 18 years old and beginning your secondary education journey, you never would have believed that you’d be where you are a decade later. You’re now 28, working toward your dual-title doctorate in political science and history at Harvard University. You’re so close to finally graduating, and it’s almost bittersweet. You wish your parents were around to see it. You’re the first in your entire family to go to university, not to mention the first to go to Harvard. Going to such a pristine school is unheard of in your neighborhood. What’s more unheard of, is your privilege to closely study and research your chosen dissertation topic. You decided you would research the life and ongoing legacy of John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States.

Except for the amount of data and information you need, you have to interview and research extensively. Which means having to eventually meet the man himself. 18-year-old you also would never believe that you would meet the President and shake his hand. Or even get to know him past the facade he puts on for the world. But it doesn’t stop there. Due to the difficulty of getting ahold of John F. Kennedy after his passing of the Civil Rights Act of 1963 and the Interracial Marriage Act, a decision was ultimately made. The chaos of Capitol Hill and the citizens of the United States pushed John F. Kennedy to leave for the holidays much sooner than usual. After getting to know you well enough over a few months, the decision was made that John F. Kennedy would invite you to stay with him and his family in Hyannis Port. Just for a few weeks, through Christmas and New Year. It isn’t like you had anything else to do or anyone to spend it with. Besides, this will be your chance to get exclusive information about the man and his family for your dissertation.

So here you are in the Kennedy family home. In the last week you’ve been here, you’ve gotten to know Jack and his family quite well. You had insisted on remaining professional and calling Jack by his real name, but he refused that. “All my friends call me Jack.”

You’ve gotten the inside scoop on Jack’s childhood and his chronic illness that has carried into adulthood. The military history in the family has also been spilled to you, and not a single detail has fallen on deaf ears. You’ve filled two notebooks already. When you aren’t scribbling down everything, you’re nose-deep in a book Jack has written. Currently, you’re reading Profiles in Courage and have found it quite interesting. You decide you’ve done enough staring out the window and that you’d join Bobby and Ted outside at the bonfire. Once you’re outside, they’re heading back indoors. But they offer to leave the fire going for you. Graciously, you accept their offer and take a seat by the warm flames, opening up Profiles in Courage.

You’re blissfully unaware of how much time has passed, your eyes eagerly scanning each word in each line as if they’d disappear any moment. You almost don’t notice the sound of snow crunching underneath someone’s approaching feet.

“Sorry to bother you, but Jack is asking for you inside.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of a man’s voice that you don’t recognize. You peer over your book at him and gauge that he must be safe, even if you don’t know who he is, considering the house is crawling with security.

“Alright, then,” you nod, putting your book down before standing up, stretching, and brushing yourself off.

You look closer at the man before you as the orange flicker of the fire basks him in an angelic glow. His hair is a mess of stark blonde curls, and he’s in a white button-up, the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

“And who might you be, exactly?” you ask, tilting your head slightly in confusion.

“Excuse my lack of introduction. My name is Coriolanus Snow. Jack’s best friend.”

You quirk an eyebrow, exhaling a laugh, “But Lem is Jack’s best friend.”

The blonde man chuckles, taking a step closer to you, “Well, maybe there’s a lot about Jack you don’t know about just yet.”

You narrow your eyes at this Coriolanus Snow, not caring that your shoulder collides with him as you swerve around his tall figure. You walk briskly back to the main house, wondering how this mystery man has yet to be brought up. When you enter the front door, Jackie is holding John Jr. in the foyer.

“I was just looking for you, dear,” she says, “Jack is asking for you.”

“So I’ve heard,” you raise your eyebrows at Jackie, and John Jr. reaches for you. You poke the boy on the tip of his nose.

Jackie gives you a confused look, but you’re quick to explain, “Some man outside said that Jack was. He isn’t Secret Service.”

Realization crosses her soft features, “Ah, Coriolanus, I’m guessing?”

“You’d be correct.”

“He’s a long-time friend of Jack’s from Harvard. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him. His father was a New York senator for years.”

“Can’t say I’m too familiar with the Snows,” you purse your lips together, “But if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see what Jack needs me for.”

Jackie lifts John Jr.’s hand to wave goodbye to you, and you give him a big smile, waving back. You walk through the den to the staircase, trodding up the stairs until you reach the landing. The office is immediately to your right, and when you approach the door, you knock. When you do, the slightly ajar door opens wide enough to see Jack laughing and conversing with someone in the room.

“I don’t mean to interrupt-“ you begin as you step inside the office, but you still yourself quickly.

Your eyes meet Coriolanus Snow’s steely blue ones as he leans against Jack’s desk, his forearms bearing his weight. His head is turned to you, his face appearing as if he were shocked by your arrival.

You clear your throat, fixing your gaze back onto your original point of interest, “But I was told you were requesting my presence?”

“Yes, I was,” Jack smiles at you from his spot in his desk chair, “I’d like you to meet Coriolanus Snow, a great friend and colleague of mine. We attended Harvard way back when.”

Coriolanus stands up, straightening himself out. You notice he has an air about him that oozes confidence and prestige. His presence and towering height would seem intimidating to some upon the first meeting. Not to you, however. With your life focus being on politics, you’re quite desensitized from men and their faux personas.

“Nice to meet you,” you bite back a remark about already meeting Jack’s friend and stick out a hand, face blank and expressionless, “I currently attend Harvard myself.”

“Coriolanus, this is the bright Ph.D. student I was telling you about. She will be here until the New Year,” Jack says, a prideful grin on his face as he motions to you, “Be nice to her, she’s known to hold her ground.”

“I can tell,” Coriolanus gives Jack a close-lipped smile, his eyes averting to you.

You stand by Jack almost protectively, unsure of how to feel about the blonde man before you. The fact he managed to beat you inside and upstairs when you left him outside first made you wonder. Coriolanus’s physique in itself is alluring and piques your interest. He also seems quick-witted and the type to be a few steps ahead of everyone. It’s not hard to gauge this just from a few exchanged words. You’ve been studying and shadowing long enough to know who you’re interacting with. You study political science, for crying out loud. You know a born and bred power-hungry man when you see one. But at the end of the day, they’re just flesh and blood like those outside of the game. That’s the historian part of you trying not to judge Coriolanus so hard. You don’t know all the facts yet. If Jack is friends with him, he may not be so bad, despite the dark vibe he gives off. But you want to figure out why he appears so stiff.

“Coriolanus will be staying with us until New Year,” Jack turns to you, patting your back as he notices your shift in mood, “You don’t mind some extra company, do ya?”

“Not at all,” you smile sweetly at your mentor before turning to Coriolanus, “Besides, there’s still a lot about you that I don’t know about just yet. And I’d love to hear all about it.”

Jack hums in agreement. Coriolanus raises his eyebrows at you, and you raise yours back. He clears his throat, standing up slightly straighter than previously.

“I can always pour us some wine, and we can discuss some lighthearted details before turning in,” Coriolanus offers you, “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“That sounds lovely. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I must grab my belongings from outside, and then I’ll be available in the den, Coriolanus.”

Jack and Coriolanus watch as you leave the room, closing the door behind you. Jack feels fairly content and is proud of his esteemed shadow getting along with his best friend. Or, appearing to be, anyway. Coriolanus is silent and remains neutral in his facial expression. He carefully turns the idea of you over and over in his head. There’s something to your character that intrigues him. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t figure it out.

When Jack and Coriolanus wrap up their conversation, you’re getting settled in the den. You’re curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, continuing your book from earlier. You circle a sentence that catches your attention, gnawing on the tip of the pen as you think of what Jack could have meant by this specific statement. You’re ripped from your thoughts when a hand delicately holds a glass of blood-red wine in front of you.

You abruptly close your book, taking the glass of wine, “Thank you.”

You don’t look at Coriolanus as he sits down, and he does so quietly without breaking his eyes from you. He keeps his focus on you as he sips his wine, and you can feel him do so as you stare into the flames in front of the couch.

“So,” Coriolanus clears his throat, “How long have you known Jack?”

You pause, taking your time to swallow your wine before glancing over to Coriolanus with little to no expression. You flash him a closed-lip smile before setting your glass down on the table, “Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

Coriolanus is taken aback, not showing it other than his raised brows before responding, “I see. And what makes you think I already know the answer to that?”

“Despite what society may think, a woman isn’t as daft as she appears to be. Given a man in her presence is smart enough to know that she isn’t, anyway,” you stare at him, unblinking, “No offense Senator Snow, but I know you’re a man of Harvard. And you know I’m a woman of Harvard, so let’s cut the chit-chat.”

Coriolanus slides his tongue across his teeth underneath his closed mouth before chuckling smartly, “I can see why Jack chose you. And you’re right, I did know the answer. But not every source is reliable.”

You lean down to retrieve your drink, “And why would Jack be an unreliable source?”

Coriolanus shrugs, “Well, as I’m sure you know, Jack knows his way around the ladies.”

“Am I supposed to be offended by this common knowledge, Mister Snow?” you swirl your wine around in the glass, peering up at him warningly.

“Of course not,” he furrows his brows, shaking his head in light disgust, “But you’re not unattractive by any means, miss.”

You scoff, “I’m very well aware. But your suggestion that I would entertain a superior I’m studying for one thing is pretty crass.”

Coriolanus waves a dismissive hand, “You know how Jack is-”

“Yes, I do,” you say sternly, “However, I’d never involve myself in nonsense.”

“And why is that?”

You tilt your head at the man, laughing in awe at his brazenness, “For starters, he has a loving and caring wife. Someone I rather respect and admire, actually.”

Coriolanus nods, sipping his wine without a word. It’s not the only reason, of course. But it takes anyone with common sense to know why you wouldn’t so much as poke Jack with a ten-foot stick. Yet you still decide to take this friend of Jack’s by surprise.

“And besides,” you shrug, “I prefer blondes,” you say plainly, throwing back the remainder of your wine as Coriolanus fights to keep his jaw from dropping.

“Now,” you lean against your knee that’s crossed over your other leg, holding your empty glass out to Coriolanus, “I’m studying the man and have studied him for years already. So, how about you tell me something I don’t know, hm?”

It takes a little while for Coriolanus to warm up to your snarky attitude, given he is the reason you have one. But you also take some time to soften up yourself. You aren’t always so bitey- not unless deeply provoked. And all that Coriolanus Snow has done is provoke you as long as you’ve known him, which has only been a few hours. But the more the two of you talk and drink, the more you both begin to unravel. It takes about three glasses of vintage wine to make Coriolanus crack a genuine smile for the first time in front of you. Which, by all means, was not normal for him, especially around someone he just met. More so around a woman in general. However, just as you know there’s something to Coriolanus, he knows there’s something to you as well. And he has barely even scratched the surface.

“One night during his campaign, he had a little too much to drink at a dinner, and his accent was so thick I had to translate,” Coriolanus says, his chin resting in his hand. His arm is propped on the arm of the couch that you are perched on where he now also sits. Coriolanus is far enough from you to be civil but close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. For someone with such a cold demeanor, he could put the fireplace to shame.

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh, “That’s actually quite funny, considering how thick it is in general. I can’t imagine how it must sound while he’s a few sheets to the wind.”

“Exactly,” Coriolanus lifts his finger from his glass to point at you, “But in actuality, it was a test.”

You look at him confused as you pour a fourth glass for yourself, “How so?”

“Jack wanted to make sure I knew what to say to voters and donors,” Coriolanus says, finishing his wine.

You offer to pour him more, to which he accepts, “Why would that matter?”

“He knew I was planning to run this year.”

You set the bottle of wine down, “To run?” you repeat, openly laughing now, “For what? Cabinet?”

“No. President.”

The burn of alcohol shoots pitifully through your sinuses, nearly exiting your nose as you struggle to cover your obvious laugh. You sniff harshly, covering your mouth and nose with the back of your hand as you swallow the remainder of the wine, recovering the best you can before answering.

“Normally, I’d believe a senator who says that, but before today I had no idea who you were, Coriolanus,” you look at him incredulously, “The election is eleven months away now. You need to, and pardon me when I say this, light a fire under your ass.”

Now it’s Coriolanus’s turn to laugh, “Shocking you’ve never heard of me, considering you’re a political science guru.”

“Shocking that I’ve never heard of you, considering you’re a senator of the United States of America under John F. Kennedy and running for the thirty-sixth President of the United States,” you bark in response, your initial disliking of this man rising back to the surface.

Coriolanus’s jaw jerks to the side before he looks down in his lap, nodding to himself, “No, you’re right. I do need to light a fire under my ass.”

You shrug, finishing your wine and not bothering for another glass.

“How about since you made me realize this, you can help me out.”

You set the empty glass on the table before sinking back into the couch, crossing your arms as you look straight at Coriolanus, “Help you out with what, exactly?”

“My campaign,” Coriolanus says.

“You’re terribly hilarious, you know. I have too much to worry about right now to help a grown man who should already have a plan if he truly wanted to win the election.”

Coriolanus goes to defend himself, but you interrupt, “Before you give me some sort of excuse, yes, I know you’re a grown man. Yes, I do have too much to worry about. I’m literally writing a book about a man and his entire life. Yes, you most definitely should already have a plan by now if you want to win.”

Coriolanus just stares at you, unsure of what to say, but again you give your two cents, “And yes, as much as I probably shouldn’t, I will help you. But you will owe me big time. Got it?”

It takes a moment for Coriolanus to realize you’ve agreed to help out, but when he does, there’s a slight glow of gratitude in his eyes, “Thank you. I know I’m seriously behind, but I know I can do this. Especially if someone as well-endowed as you is helping me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m well-endowed in more ways than one, but politics is just the icing on the cake, sweetheart. So, let’s continue this tomorrow before I fall asleep here.”

Standing up from the couch after numerous glasses of wine has proven tricky. Your head swims, and you sway slightly from side to side. Coriolanus has to rest a gentle hand on the small of your back in order for you to steady yourself. You glance at him, letting your eyes linger in silent thanks, before collecting yourself and walking out of the den into the hallway. After putting your book and notes away, you strip your clothing and curl up under the soft duvet on your bed. Hopefully, your craving for political experience and curiosity in your interest won’t land you into trouble with Coriolanus Snow. But you’re eager to find out.

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kitkatt0430 · 10 months

Text

So big shout out to SquidgeWorld for the news update acknowledging and encouraging the use of the tilde relationship identifier for queerplatonic ships!!!

I actually had a bit of a hand in how this one came about, which is pretty fun. (Story time!)

So a few years ago the Character A ~ Character B format was introduced over here on tumblr to represent QPRs. There is a post I know I rebloged a few times buried on my main somewhere about this and I'll have to try to remember to dig that up later. And there was bit of a push to try and get Ao3 to officially acknowledge the tilde or at least for those of us who write fic there start using it in tagging regardless of official acknowledgement and see what happened. And, well, what largely seems to have happened is that the tag wranglers have let us use the tilde, but there's been no official acknowledgement as the Tag Wrangling page for relationships on Ao3 still only discusses the '&' and '/' identifiers. (If there was anything official said about it elsewhere, sadly I must have missed it.)

I started using the tilde... two years ago? I think? And went back to update some of my existing fics to add in ship tags with the tilde. I still made sure to keep the Queerplatonic Relationship tags because those are still the best way to find fics that have QPRs included in them. And I've seen a few others using the '~' out in the wild, but discussion about it kind of faded again. If you knew, you knew. And if you didn't... there was always that Queerplatonic Relationship tag.

Then, about a year ago, I signed up for SquidgeWorld. I'd never heard of it before (which is likely because I'm just not super active in fandom outside the niche I've carved for myself; I admit, I am a bit under a rock at times...) but Squidge been around in one form or another since 1994. One of the fanfic authors I followed was moving their works there and so I followed and did what I always do on new sites I'm curious about - I lurked.

Fast forward to more recently. Fanfiction.net that I've been loyally using as my backup fic location for years after leaving it as my main fanfic archive... it's getting buggier and more unstable by the year. I don't intend to pull my fanfiction off it - I will leave what's on there up until the site collapses in on itself - but the day is coming ever nearer that the bugs and lack of tagging updates will finally make cross-posting there entirely too much of a hassle. And much as I love Ao3, I don't like the idea of only having all my fanfic in one place. I've seen enough archives big and small get destroyed over the years that no matter how stable or permanent Ao3 feels... I'm more comfortable knowing my fic can be found in multiple places. (Of course, the biggest hurdle for getting my fics cross-posted in multiple places is... executive dysfunction.)

I started finally cross-posting to SquidgeWorld recently and honestly just didn't really think too much about it when bringing over fics tagged with the QPR identifier. I just copied over the Character A ~ Character B tags and hit post. :D

But admin-squidgie over there - who I believe is found here on tumblr using @squidgiepdx (hi! Thanks a bunch for the news post!) - asked me about the tilde usage and what that was being used to represent. So I responded with an explanation about how it was a relatively new identifier used because queerplatonic relationships aren't really well represented by romantic or platonic identifiers. And then admin-squidgie got back to me to let me know there'd be a news post soon about this new identifier type. Which was so awesome.

While the wrangling guidelines haven't been updated on SquidgeWorld to note the use of the tilde yet (and could take a while, I know official docs always wind up being the last thing updated), the news post really is a very big deal for those of us who like to write and read queerplatonic ships.

For those of you interested in cross-posting or moving your fanfic to SquidgeWorld, I do recommend the archive. I've lurked long enough to see that the community there is pretty friendly, the interface is a clone of Ao3's so it should be familiar to a lot of you and is easily customized to make it more accessible (or covered in rainbows if you prefer ^_^ ), and (as seen here) the admin over there is open to helping make the archive an inclusive place for all of us.

And with at least one fanfic archive both acknowledging and encouraging the use of the queerplatonic relationship identifier, it'd be nice to see information on that making the rounds here on tumblr again. I bet there are a lot of aspecs who don't know about the identifier but who would be glad to know it exists and start using it themselves.

#kitkatt0430 rambles #fandom news #queerplatonic relationship #relationship identifiers #queerplatonic relationship identifier #using the tilde for QPR tagging

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plutoccult · 5 months

Text

ALWAYS THE ARTIST, NEVER THE MUSE

pairing: eren yeager x gender neutral reader

description: you know you shouldn’t have let yourself fall for eren, but you did anyway, and it only left you with nothing but hurt when you knew his heart belonged to another. after months of torture, you finally have the strength to let go, granting you the happiness you so desperately needed back in your life.

word count: 1.7k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: happy december? no, angsty december. this particular one shot is a little personal for me because it’s based off a final conversation i had with someone who i essentially let have hold of my heart for far too long and finally had the strength to let go of them a few months ago. he’s like jake gyllenhaal minus the age gap. i say this because he gave me the ability to relate to the moment i knew aka not being there for my 21st birthday! insane! i did however make it less personal by giving it some how i met your mother vibes, but there’s still inklings of my personal life in it. writing helps me heal and express my feelings in a way that i’m comfortable with, so i feel good writing this as part of my healing journey? corny to use fanfiction for healing, but to each their own. sorry if this is too angsty, but imagine how my life has been LMAO. anyway, big shoutout to my friend @toorubobatea for beta reading this. i really wanted her to read it before i posted it, so thank you queen!! and now i hope you guys can enjoy it just like she did! mwah! and i’m tagging @jeanboyjean since she so kindly asked me to <3

you knew that the day you met eren yeager, your life would never be the same, but my god, did it your life turn upside down. pulled in so many different directions you couldn’t tell what was left or right anymore. you felt like you were losing yourself in the process, but you wanted more of him like you wanted to breathe air.

it was always a mistake. one beautiful, soul-crushing mistake. he’d lead you on with mixed signals and uncertainty, but you lived for the thrill because it was the only interesting thing going on in your life. it’s “for the plot”, as you’d always say. even if your friends told you a million times he was bad news and you would only get hurt in the end, you didn’t care.

he was just your friend, that’s what you two always claimed; just friends, but you always sensed a hint of a lie in those words. you couldn’t be just friends. not when he remembered everything you said down to what you had for lunch last week or that time your mother fainted as she watched you get stitches for the first time as a kid. not when he spoke to you everyday like clockwork, a routine that seemed to come easy. how could you ever be just friends? how could it not be more?

you were inevitably in love with eren yeager, and it crushed you when you realized he never once had those feelings for you. not only that, but he was in love with someone else; mikasa ackerman, his best friend since childhood. it all made perfect sense, and you wished you never met him in the first place. but even then, you couldn’t keep yourself away from him. as long as he didn’t know of your feelings, everything would be fine, right? oh, how you were so, so wrong.

you tortured yourself every time you spoke to him. you listened to him as he pined for mikasa, too scared to admit his feelings to her. of course you knew what it was like to be in that position, the one you wanted was sitting right in front of you and he didn’t seem to have a clue. it frustrated you so much, but even so, you’d rather have something instead of nothing with him. such a sad way to feel, such a sad way to live when you think about it now. always the artist, never the muse. constantly crafting for others, nothing ever created just for you.

you’d push those feelings deep down into the darkest pit of your heart, but no matter how hard you tried, it would all come back every time you saw his face or even thought of him. those thoughts of maybe if you were prettier, funnier, and just overall better plagued your mind, but you had to shake them away. one day, you knew, you’d ultimately become fed up and blow up about it. it was the only way you knew how, the only way you could be free.

so now here you were, sitting at your usual booth in your favorite bar—assuming it may no longer be yours after tonight—waiting for eren to arrive so you could talk. you assumed he could sense your seriousness and urgency when you texted him, but you figured so be it. one way or another, you’d do this.

he arrived like you expected. you refused to let him make you second guess yourself, so you kept your cool and acted as normal before you dropped the bomb on him. besides, the shot you took before he showed up was quite the help, plus the drink you swirled around in its glass now.

eren walked over to the bar to grab a drink before heading over to the booth, expecting you to stand up and greet him with a hug like always, but you remained in your seat, clutching your drink in your hands.

“hey, i got your text.” he said as he sat down across from you.

“i see that.” you reply. he noticed you were acting different, not like the y/n he knew. it was obvious you had something on your mind, and since he knew you so well, eren could sense you were going to spill your guts about something.

“what’s up? is something wrong?” eren asked. this was it.

“i just.” you pause. oh god, you were really doing this. “i just wanted to say that i’m done with whatever this is.”

he’s silent, he doesn’t know what to say. you feel like the words are all coming out like vomit. you almost wish you were spewing real vomit right now, but you weren’t quite drunk enough for that. you had to get through this hellish conversation first, at least.

“i’m done. i’m not going to make a fool out of myself anymore. i’m done trying. i’m giving up.” you say, tears threatening to stream down your face, but you fight them away. “i’m done exhausting myself of trying to be something i’ll never be because deep down i know i’ll never be yours.”

eren should’ve seen this coming. all those times you fell silent when he ranted to you about his love problems. you always wanted to scream in his face about how the one person in this world that actually wanted him was always right there, that it was you. even so, he could never give you what you wanted, and he felt like the worst person in the world because of it.

you wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything. if this was going to be your final conversation, he might as well say something. “well, speak now or forever hold your peace because i’m clearly not holding mine.”

“i mean, it’s just not what i was expecting to hear.” eren finally spoke. “i’m just shocked.”

“trust me, i never expected to say it either, but if i’ve learned anything, it’s that i care too much.” you tearfully admit. “too much about you when i know where your heart belongs and it’s not with me.”

“i’m sorry, y/n. i never meant for things to get like this.” he said with sincerity, although you wondered if it was all a lie. “and you must know that there was never any hostile intentions behind any of my actions.”

“that’s funny. it always seemed like there was.” you looked down at your drink, quickly moving your gaze back to him as he spoke once more.

“no, you…” eren paused, trying to put the words together in the best way he could. even if he didn’t seem like it, he did care someway, somehow. “you’ve been there for me when i needed someone most and i’m really, really grateful for that, but i can’t give you what you want, and i’ve been unfair to you as a result. i’m sorry.”

huh. this really wasn’t what you were expecting. where’s the insults? where’s the twisting of your words? why is he actually being apologetic and taking accountability? you wanted to say this was crazy, but this is eren you’re talking about. you always knew he was too good. too good to ever be yours, even.

“you know, this is usually the part where you flip out and make it all my fault instead by calling me delusional and crazy.” you force a laugh. might as well laugh through the pain, right?

“i’m not gonna flip out.” eren said.

“why?” you question him.

“because i know i’ve done wrong by you.” he replied.

“well, that’s a shock.” you take a sip of your drink, tempted to chug it, but eren’s words shocked you into stopping the liquid from going past your lips.

“it shouldn’t have to be, y/n.” he frowned. “you deserve someone who won’t weigh you down. you deserve to move on, even if it’s not flattering for me.”

you set down your drink as you let out a sigh and briefly cover your face, rubbing your eyes before showing yourself once more. “i hate that you’re being so nice about this. i was expecting to yell at you or something.”

“do you want to?” eren asked you.

as much as past you would have loved to, you didn’t have the energy to be bitter anymore. “no… i’m okay. this is better.”

“you sure?”

“yeah, positive.” you say, followed by silence. there wasn’t much for you to say anymore, and you couldn’t beat on this dead horse any longer. it was time to finally say goodbye, no matter how much it pained you to do so. “um, i guess we should just end this here, huh?”

“yeah, guess so.” he looked away. this hurt eren too, but you both knew this was for the best. you’ll be thankful later down the road.

“would it be totally wrong to sneak in a taylor swift quote right now?” you ask, almost immediately regretting the question.

“no, go for it.”

“eh, maybe not. too corny.” you thought it would be best to keep those words to yourself. besides, it was too hard to pin it down to just one thing. he was worth a hundred songs, ones you may never listen to the same way, but that’s okay.

“she’s a wise, wise woman, you know.” eren said, a grin slowly creeping up on his face, despite the circumstances.

“yeah, she is.” you softly smile. at least you could end this on a little good note.

“goodbye, y/n. i wish you the best in everything.”

“goodbye, eren. i really hope you get her someday.”

and with that, you placed a twenty dollar bill on the table and left the bar, no longer claiming it as your favorite and leaving it to eren, along with your favorite place to sit. like with everything else in life, nothing lasts forever, nothing stays the same, and that’s okay. you knew that now.

it was such a strange feeling, having this weight lifted off your shoulders. you had been burdened with this boulder for so long you forgot what it felt like to be weightless. you were finally clean of eren yeager, light as a feather, but most importantly, happy, and freeing yourself of such delusions was the greatest gift you could ever receive.

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dc-marvel-life · 1 year

Text

Perfect Fit

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha x reader

Word Count: ~2.6K

Summary: Y/N is the new member joining the Avengers that came from a top-secret program in SHIELD that she was in all her life. Now that she has joined the team, she is experiencing life for the first time. She has caught the eye of the two most powerful women on the team.

A/N: I haven't had any requests, so I am posting a story that I am making on my AO3. This will be a series. My request is still open.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

We all know that there are infinite different universes that are different from one another. This one is the same as the rest. In this universe, the Avengers made the team ten years ago with a group of teenage superheroes. Iron Man, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Thor, Scarlet Witch, Falcon, Winter Soldier, and Captain Marvel made the original team. Five years later, Spiderman, Black Panther, Yelena, and Kate join the group.

They all live on the Avenger compound, a vast building that houses the Avengers and their every need. Thanks to Tony, the facility is all high-tech and has F.R.I.D.A.Y. It has many bedrooms, bathrooms, a game room, a movie room, a weight room, a training room, a vast kitchen, a pool, a garden, etc.

The team is running smoothly, but SHEILD has a program that they want to test out. The program is called Project Gene X, and it is a program that had eight infants with the mutant gene. When the mutant gene was discovered, SHEILD ensured they were on top of it. They were able to find eight infants that they were able to keep in custody legally. All the kids did growing up was train and discover their powers. Over time, not all of the kids could stay in the program for different reasons, but there were only two in the end.

The two were fighting for the open spot in the Avengers, and Fury finally made a choice. The team knew they would get another teammate soon, but they didn’t know when.

Fury called a meeting with all the Avengers in the conference room at the Avengers compound. Now they are just waiting for Fury to show up.

“So does anyone know what this meeting is for,” Tony says, tapping a pen on the table while looking around the room.

“Maybe we are all going on a huge mission,” Bucky says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Ooo, I hope so because I haven’t been on any mission recently. I need to get out of this compound now,” Sam says, leaning back in the chair.

“Let's hope Fury doesn’t send us on a mission then, so we can all go out tonight. How does that sound?” Carol says.

“I like that idea! I’ll call a few clubs right now to get us on the VIP list,” Tony says, pulling out his phone, and everyone nods.

“I can’t wait to go clubbing!” Peter says excitedly.

“Not you, young fry,” Natasha says, and everyone laughs. At that moment, Fury walks into the room, and everyone goes silent. Everybody's attention goes to Fury, waiting to see what he called the meeting for. “I bet you all are wondering why I called this meeting. Well, I wanted to get you all together so you can meet your new teammate Agent Y/N Y/L/N” Fury says. Y/N comes into the room with black cargo pants held up with, a black utility belt with many pockets, and a black short sleeve shirt. She goes and stands next to Fury with her arms crossed behind her back.

“Agent Y/N was part of a secret project that has been going on for years in SHIELD. Now she has earned a spot on the team with you all. She has the mutant gene and will be a great addition to the team. I won’t give you guys a mission for the next few days, so you all can get to know one another. I hope you all welcome her with open arms,” Fury says, then walks out of the room.

Once Fury closes the door, all eyes are on Y/N. The room was silent, and Y/N didn’t know what was happening.

“So tell us about yourself, Y/N,” Steve says, breaking the awkward silence filling the room. Y/N stood there momentarily, not knowing what to say to them. Since she was a baby, she has been training with little to no social life. Her only friends were the people in the program, but once they left, they never stayed in connect. It was just the way of the program not to have many contacts outside. Y/N never developed her own personality, but she knew one thing.

“I am a homosexual!” Y/N blurt out after a minute of not responding to Steve’s question leaving everyone wondering. Then Y/N says that and shocks everyone. Some people tried to hold back their laughs because they thought it was a joke.

“I am sorry that I said that. Well, I am a homosexual, but you know what I mean. I didn't know how to respond when you asked that question. My whole life was about being in the program, so I don’t know too much about myself,” Y/N says with her arms still crossed behind her back.

“What is this program/project that Fury said that you were in? I have never seen you before or heard of a secret project,” Clint asked curiously about what SHEILD was hiding from everyone. Y/N was hesitant because she was told never to talk about the program unless it was with someone with an equal or greater level than her.

“Yes sir, the project was…..” Y/N started to talk, but Clint stopped her.

“Don’t call me sir. I feel so old when you say that, and I am pretty sure we are the same age,” Clint says while faking like he had a chill.

“No problem, Mr. Barton,” Y/N says.

“No, no, no, just call me Clint. You know all of our names, right?” Clint ask.

“Sorry, Clint, and yes, I know all of your names,” Y/N says, and she can feel her body tighten. Y/N’s mind is going a mile a minute because she worries she is messing everything up.

“Relax, sweetie, you are too tense and thinking too loud,” Wanda says in a calming voice. Y/N looks over at Wanda, nervous.

“You can hear my thoughts?” Y/N says in shock. Y/N knew that Wanda was powerful and could read minds but not like this.

“Yes, I can. I promise I don’t read minds for fun. I can only hear them without trying because you are overthinking right now. Take a deep breath in and out,” Wanda says with a smile. Y/N takes a few deep breaths in and out and finally calms down a bit. She eventually moves her arms from behind her back.

“I am sorry. I have been waiting for this moment for a long time and can’t believe it is happening. Now I am a nervous mess. Anyway, my project was called Project Gene X. I was taken in by SHEILD as an infant because of my mutant gene. Growing up, I was trained to be the best agent while using my powers. Our end goal was to be a part of the Avengers. It was down to one other person and me, and we had to fight for it. I won, and now I am here,” Y/N proudly says.

“Wait for a second! This is crossing way too many lines! So you are telling me that SHIELD pretty much had their red room! I need to talk to him now about this,” Natasha says, getting up from her chair. Wanda gets up and tries to calm down her girlfriend.

“No, Natasha, it wasn’t like that. Every year after we hit age five, we were often asked if we wanted to stay in the program. Most of the kids dropped out by age 14, and only the other person left in the program was me. It sounds like the red room, but it isn’t at all. I had a great time there and enjoyed myself very much,” Y/N says to everyone but most importantly, Natasha. You can see that Natasha is mad right now because her hands are balled up, and her face is as red as a tomato. She looks like she will fight someone, but Wanda is beside her to calm her down. It seems like they are having a conversation with their minds. After a bit, Natasha takes a deep breath and sits back at the table.

“Okay, it is not as bad as the red room, but it is still like it. I will talk with him about it later,” Natasha says.

“Yeah, Project Gene X doesn’t sound too well, but he did the same for us ten years ago, starting the Avengers. We were like, what 13-16-year-olds running around saving the world. What is done is done; let's move on and have a great time with our new team member,” Sam says, trying to lighten to mood.

“Yeah, I agree with Sam! That means we should all go out and have a party!” Tony says, pumping his fist because he wants to attend a club tonight.

“We are supposed to be bonding as a team, and we can’t go to the club because Peter is only 20 years old,” Carol points out to Tony. Tony quietly mimics Carol.

“Or we can have a party here and invite people to come, so no one is excluded. How does that sound?” Kate says.

“Not a bad idea. Now we need to throw the best house party ever! I will make some calls now,” Tony says, getting up and calling someone.

“So let’s get you to settle into here, Y/N. By the way, to formally introduce myself. I am Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, and I am 25. The rich boy over there on the phone is Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, who is 25,” Steve says, and everyone starts to introduce themselves with their real name, superhero name, and age.

“So Y/N, you say you were in the program because you have the mutant gene. What is your power?” Sam asks, and everyone's attention is back on Y/N, wondering what her power is.

“My power is absorption. So any material that I touch, I can turn my whole body into that. That is why I have this belt with different strong materials like vibranium, adamantium, diamond, chromium, and more,” Y/N says while removing her metals from her belt. She puts them all out on the table, then picks up the adamantium. She holds the adamantium in her palm and turns her whole body into adamantium.

Everyone is in awe of Y/N’s powers. She turns back into her usual self and puts her metals back into her belt.

“Now, that’s an extraordinary power that can come in handy. I am happy that you are on the team; now, let’s give you a tour of the facility,” Steve says; he stands up, leading the way to give the tour while everyone else shuffles out of the room except for Natasha and Wanda.

“Wait! Can Nat and I give the tour to Y/N?” Wanda asks. Natasha whispers something into Wanda’s ear to make her laugh. Y/N looks at the pair, confused about why they want to give the tour.

“Of course,” Steve smiles and looks to Y/N, “you will be in good hands. I will catch you later,” Steve says and leaves the room, leaving only Y/N, Natasha, and Wanda staring at each other.

“Are you ready for the tour?” Wanda asks.

“Yes, I am. Let me go and grab my bag” Y/N walk over to the door and picks up one small duffle bag.

“Is that all you have? You know you are moving in here for good, right?” Wanda questions Y/N.

“Yes, this is it. My whole life is in this bag, actually,” Y/N says, a little nervous because she didn’t know that she was supposed to have more than this.

“It’s okay, I understand. Being an agent means you must pack light,” Natasha says to comfort Y/N.

“Thanks, Natasha. Since I will be here for the long run, maybe I can do some shopping for stuff,” Y/N says, and Wanda squeals in excitement.

“Shopping trip!” Wanda says, jumping up and down.

“Dorogoy, maybe we should let Y/N get settled first, then talk about going on a shopping trip,” Natasha says to Wanda, then looks at Y/N, “also you can just call me Nat,” Nat says to Y/N with a soft expression.

“Okay, Nat, and I would love to go shopping. Never been on one before,” Y/N says, smiling at the pair.

“Alright, we will go shopping with you one day, but for now, let’s tour the place and show you to your room,” Nat says, and they take Y/N on a tour of the building showing all the bells and whistles. They end up in front of Y/N’s new room.

“And the last part of our tour is your room. This is great because right across here is our room,” Wanda says, pointing to the door right across.

“You guys share a room?” Y/N looks at them curiously.

“Yes, I would hope so. It would suck that I didn’t share a room with my girlfriend of what….. 7 years now,” Nat says, looking lovingly into Wanda’s eyes. Y/N smiles at the pair and looks at their hands to see two rings. Nat and Wanda notice it.

“They’re just promise rings that we gave each other when we were 18,” Wanda clarifies.

“That’s so sweet,” Y/N says with a bit of disappointment because she did have a crush on Wanda and Nat for the longest time after finding out about them years ago.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Wanda asks.

“No, I have never been in a relationship with anyone. I have done stuff with people, but those were mission-based, and nothing ever came out of it. The good thing is now I am free and single. Ready to get out there,” Y/N says and starts to laugh, with Wanda and Nat joining her.

“Sorry, that sounded lame saying it out loud,” Y/N says and continues to laugh. Y/N opens her room door and gasps.

“Wow, this room is so big, and I have a queen bed,” Y/N says, running into the room, dropping her bags, then jumps onto her bed.

“And the bed is so soft. I am going to love this place,” Y/N says, getting comfortable in bed while Nat and Wanda watch in awe.

“She is so cute,” Wanda says, and Nat agrees with her.

“So why did you guys want to show me around the place? I am just curious” Y/N sits up in bed, looking at the pair.

“If you want us to be honest here, we wanted to show you around to get to know you and become friends. We are always together, and we need more friends that are women. Yes, we have Kate, Yelena, and Carol, but it is not the same. Yelena is Nat's younger sister, and they get on each other nervous all the time, but it is out of love. Plus, we think Yelena and Kate are secretly dating and not telling anyone. Carol likes to hang out with Sam and Bucky to do dumb shit with. So we saw you and thought we could have a new friend to do stuff with,” Wanda says moving side to side like she is nervous about something.

“Well, I will be an honor to be your friend,” Y/N said, smiling at them and making Nat and Wanda melt.

“Gosh, you are so cute. I think I can say that we are happy to have become friends for the two of us. We will let you get settled here before the party tonight. If you need us, we are across the hallway,” Wanda says and starts to walk out of the room, with Nat closing the door to leave Y/N in her thoughts.

“This is going to be the best time of my life,” Y/N says, sighing and lying in bed.

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joels-darlin · 10 months

Text

Surprises

Pairings: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, mention of alcohol, mentions of stress.

Summary: Pedro has been planning something special which is finally revealed over your weekly Friday evening ritual.

Word count: 1402

Author Note: Little piece I've been working on for a short while. Debated not posting this the ending is pretty crap but hey ho here we go. Sorry it's not great. As usual any feedback is appreciated, enjoy <3 Posted on AO3

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

Since the start of your friendship with Pedro, when he wasn’t away filming of course, Friday nights had been the one stable thing in your life. This consisted of sharing a bottle of wine (sometimes 2 depending on how the week went) out on the patio with a takeaway of choice. Losing count on how many times you had frequented his guest bedroom, Pedro not wanting you to be driving under the influence. Now that your friendship had progressed into a relationship nothing had changed, that time still reserved for just the two of you - except now spent cuddled under a blanket. It wasn’t hard to believe how it happened. All the years of built up feelings spilling out over (you guessed it) a bottle of wine one cool summers evening, the start of the relationship sealed with a kiss.

You where in the midst of wrapping up work for day in the office of your now shared home, Pedro asking you to move in after some time together, beaming with excitement for your week off but also your normal Friday night plans. A quick glance at the clock showing it was 6pm and after already working well over your normal hours, it was time to log off. You sent a brief message to you colleagues wishing them pleasant weekends - but also the reminder that you where on leave next week. Making sure to also set your emails to Out of Office mode, before shutting down the computer.

It seemed strange taking a random week off in the middle of the year, you usually saved any annual leave for Christmas time so you could travel to either see his or your family - rotating every year. It was only last month that Pedro suggested it whilst sitting down one evening to dinner at home. It was the one time he had a break in filming until the end of the year, so you agreed that it would be good to spend some time together.

Grabbing your phone from the charging stand noticing the screen littered with notifications - mostly messages from family members & friends. Scrolling to the bottom the one that caught your eye was from Pedro from an hour ago, swiping the screen to open the conversation.

P 💜 Just nipped out cariño, let me know if you need anything. I popped my head in earlier but you where engrossed in work. See you soon hermosa xx

Messaging back a quick response the phone then placed in the pocket of your shorts. Deciding on a shower before Pedro returned home you padded through the house to the bathroom, not forgetting to grab a towel from the cupboard on the way.

The sun was just starting to set as you took the usual spots on the couch outside, casting a glowing orange hue across the garden. The only background noise being the ruffling of the tree leaves, caused by the light breeze in the air, and the random music playlist that was playing on the outside speakers. You sighed in contentment as he reached over to pour a large serving into the empty glasses that lay on the table. “For you mi amor” he said softly, holding out the glass, you thanked him lifting the glass to your lips for a small sip before setting it down on the table. Already feeling slightly tipsy from the bottle of wine you had consumed with dinner you made a mental note to take it slowly with this one. He settled back into the couch again, arm slung across your shoulders, you curled into his side appreciating the warmth radiating off his body in the cool evening.

The general chatter was flowing easily with you discussing how both your weeks had gone as well as sharing a few funny stories and awful jokes from Pedro’s end. It was quite the romantic setting, taking moments in between conversation to steal a few soft and slow kisses - mostly just appreciating each others company. It was nice to just switch off and forget about the stresses of everything, you hadn’t failed to miss Pedro’s brows furrowing with concern and pulling you little closer when you mentioned that you had a lot on your plate at the moment, regards to your job. Making a promise to push it to be back of your mind so you can finally enjoy a week off together.

“So…I have a surprise for you, let me go grab it quickly” he said untangling from your embrace before walking back inside the patio doors. Pedro re-appeared a few minutes later clutching 2 white envelopes, taking the seat beside you. “This one is first” He grinned handing over one of the envelopes, shooting him a mysterious look. You sort of hated but also loved surprises, he knew that, and prayed that he hadn’t of gone out of his way to spend a fortune on you again. The excuse always being “Well I like treating my girl”.

Sliding your finger under tab you carefully prised open the envelope, careful not to rip the contents, pulling out a folded sheet of white paper. Unfolding it carefully, taking a moment to read it’s contents. “Wait…P…what” you gasped, bringing a hand to cover your mouth in shock. There in back and white, the details of two flight tickets back to your home. “You where probably wondering why I asked you to take a random week off I have been planning this for awhile, I thought we could take a vacation and go visit your family…” he explained. “…It’s just you have been looking a little down recently and thought this might give you a pick me up” his free hand dropping to caress your thigh softly. “I-P-thankyou” moving your eyes from the paper to look into those soft brown orbs, tears threatening to spill from your own. He smiled softly. “That’s not the only thing…” placing the second envelope in your lap “Open this” he grinned excitement present in his voice.

Picking up the second envelope with shaking hands. Pedro obviously noticed this moving his arm to snake around your waist fingers grazing softly over some exposed skin; a calming gesture. You made quick work of the seal then unfolded the second sheet of paper, scanning it’s contents. Was this really happening? How had he managed it? Two tickets to see your favourite artist at the arena back home.

“Oh. My. God. P-What-” and that was it the flood gates opened, tear tracks staining your cheeks. “Oh sweetheart, I hope those are happy tears” he cooed pulling you into his embrace, placing a kiss on your hair. Pedro knew when the tickets released months ago you had tried and tried to get your hands on some - eager to see the artist live again. After pulling a few strings with his agent and a shift around in schedule he not only managed to bag 2 VIP tickets but also some well needed downtime - which is when the idea came into play about visiting your family. The concert being something you two would also attend whilst over there. It had all fell into place superbly. Taking a moment to compose yourself then you leaned up looking into his eyes. “But-how? I tried but-just Thankyou P, I-I don’t know what to say”“ stuttering to form any coherent sentences, instead deciding to lean over and press a soft kiss on his lips which he happily reciprocated. “Anything for you mi querida” he whispered against your lips, moving to kiss the tip of your nose softly. You pulled back to scan the papers again. “Wait-” you exclaimed eyes scanning the dates, “We-we leave tomorrow?”. He hummed and nodded in response to the question, draining the last of his wine glass and placing it on the table. “Come on querida we have some serious packing to do” Pedro grinned, standing up from the couch he extended his hand which you took intertwining both your fingers. You giggled following suit to stand a moment after, hands still laced together. “Lead the way then mi amor”. In the blink of an eye you where being pulled (gently of course) through into the house and up the stairs, the sounds of both your laughter filling the rooms as you collapsed on the bed. Absolutely no worries in the world enjoying a moment; just the two of you.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro x reader

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measuredingold · 1 month

Text

to be in love and to be loved

chapter four: all i need

authors note: ...guess who finally came out of retirement ! the spark ( sort of ) has come back and i was finally able to finish this chapter. a loooong time coming. i'm happy to finally get something out, but i'm a bit bummed by this chapter because i don't think it's my best - however, i'm already working on chapter five and i'm very happy with it so far so... get ready for that :) another chapter in naomi's pov, and it's a doozy so hopefully that makes up for the time away ! as always please enjoy and feedback is appreciated !

pairing: noah sebastian x ofc x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist / cross-posted on ao3

word count: 10.2k

cw: ~kissing~, angst, suggestive content, feelings definitely being realized, alcohol, 18+ (minors do not interact.)

Naomi tries to go on like nothing happened that night on FaceTime. She kept her feelings and whatever she realized tucked deeply inside of her, putting on her best smile when the boys came home. They ended up not getting matching tattoos this time around. Whenever Nicholas wasn’t tattooing, and when Noah wasn’t doing something for the band, all three of them spent as much time together as they could.

It slipped their minds, which she was grateful for, because it made her focus on other things and not… that. It was pretty easy to forget about for the most part, just being happy that they were home for the first time in months. It felt like they had been gone longer than three months, and the weight that had been on her shoulders was lifted the very moment they stepped foot into Richmond.

That feeling, the realization, didn’t come back until the first night alone in her apartment. Noah had left two weeks ago, and Nicholas had left earlier that morning, and she felt… empty. Like something was missing – someone was missing. Her feelings consumed her then, so much so that she felt like she couldn’t breathe, eyes prickling with tears because how the hell did she get herself into this?

She feels guilty, keeping this from them but also knowing that she can never say anything. How the hell do you tell your boyfriend that you’re in love with him and your guys’ best friend? This isn’t some fairytale where every ending is a happy one, this is the real world, and the real world always has its consequences.

A part of her is glad that the boys have been busy the last week and a half, their talks being limited to maybe an hour every few days, and texts sent at the most random times. It's given her time to sit with herself and think, and then eventually bring in reinforcements. Someone she's known longer than Noah and Nicholas, someone who she can trust without a second thought.

"Jesus, Mimi." Analise breathes out, and Naomi can already see the crease in her forehead. She sighs.

"I know."

There's a silence that follows that makes her feel uneasy. Analise has always been able to tell her how it is, never having trouble voicing her opinions and calling Naomi out on her shit. This time though... She feels like she's finally stunned the other girl into silence for the first time in her life.

"Does anyone else know?"

"Lis," Naomi sighs again. "The only other people I'd tell would be Noah and Nicky... and I obviously can't fucking do that."

Analise laughs. "If it weren't for me, you'd go to the grave with this, huh?"

"Oh, for fucking sure." She tries to laugh but it fails, and she lets out another deep, aggravated sigh. She brings her hands up to dig her heels into her eyes, a headache already beginning to start at the back of her head. "What the hell do I do, Lissy?"

A beat passes. "Do you want my honest opinion?"

"Well, I didn't invite you over just to bullshit me."

"Girl, I have never bullshitted you once throughout our entire friendship."

"Exactly, and that's why I go to you for these types of things. You always tell me how it is."

"And I always will.” Analise says matter of factly before her words are followed by a sigh. Naomi can see that fucking crease again. "Anyone under the fucking sun can see how much love you have for Noah. I don't think I've ever seen you love someone so hard before."

"I don't think I've ever loved someone like I do him." Naomi replies easily, without much thought. She knew it was true.

"Right," Analise starts before narrowing her gaze at Mimi, her full lips tugging down ever so slightly. "However, I'm not dumb."

Mimi raises a brow. "Huh?"

"Listen," Analise leans back against the couch, holding her hands up almost defensively. "I'm not sure if anything ever happened between you and Nick before you got with Noah, but I wouldn't be surprised. Your chemistry with each other is insane." Her gaze softens now. "And I can tell you care about him a lot, more than a friend should. I think you always have."

Naomi's cheeks flush at Analise's words and she bites down on her bottom lip, chewing on it nervously. Was it so obvious? She didn't think so, but Analise has never lied to her. Not once.

"...What if I told you something almost happened?"

"I'd call you a bitch - lovingly - for not telling me sooner," Analise says without hesitation. "And then I'd ask for you to elaborate on what you mean by almost."

"Almost as in," She drags her words, pulling her legs up onto the couch, "When he tattooed me for the first time, we were talking, and got pretty close. I wanted to kiss him and... and I think he wanted to kiss me, but then we didn't. He mentioned Noah and it kinda... ruined the moment."

Analise stares at her for a beat longer than needed before speaking up, "Did it ruin the moment because you knew that you liked Noah at the time, or did you think there was something going on between Noah and Nick?"

Naomi's eyes widen and Analise waves her off, scoffing softly.

"Girl. Don't give me that look. You know it's true." The girl sighs, as if this is the most taxing thing she's ever had to deal with and leans forward. "I've seen the way Nicholas looks at you… and the way he looks at Noah.” Analise gives her a smile, full lips stretched into a smile. "He's got it bad for the both of you."

"You're just making that up."

"I'm not making shit up. You," Analise points a finger at her and Mimi scoffs, turning her head the other way, "are just in denial at the fact Nicholas is in love with the both of you.”

"No, I'm not."

"Okay. Look me in the eyes and tell me you had no fucking idea Nicholas looks at both you and Noah like you two hung up the fucking stars."

Naomi's mouth opens to argue because that's just ridiculous, he doesn't do that, but nothing comes out. Not even a noise. Her brain then starts to finally catch up and thoughts of Nicholas invade her mind. Her throat tightens, skin heating up and feeling almost clammy, as the realization finally dawns on her. It's as if she's finally waking up after years of sleep, like she's opened her eyes and finally saw what was right in front of her the entire fucking time.

Nicholas wasn't just in love with her, or with Noah... it was the both of them.

"Oh my god." Was all she was able to get out, brown eyes widening as she finally looked back at Analise.

Her friend's face softened, lips pressing together to try and suppress her own frown. "It's so obvious, Mimi."

"Yeah, I fucking know that now." She groans, leaning her elbows against the tops of her thighs, hands rubbing along her face. "Oh my god."

The tightening in her throat doesn't let up and there's a burning feeling behind her eyes, the tears threatening to push through. Her heart pounds against her chest, ringing through her ears. How did she not notice?

The way he reacted to them being together, the way he's been acting ever since... It all makes fucking sense. She - they - are the reason behind Nicholas' continued sadness, the reason why he's been pulling away these last few months. The reason why he needed to suck it up and get over it. Her stomach turns in a way she fucking hates, the nausea coming back as it settles somewhere deep inside the pit of her stomach.

How did she not fucking notice?

With tears stinging at her eyes, she finally looks up to find Analise staring at her, expression pained.

"What do I do?" She breathes out.

"Well... what do you think you should do?"

"I..." With a frustrated sigh she slumps her body back against the couch, hands coming up to rub at her face as the first tears fell. "I don't know."

She probably sounded pitiful, because that's exactly how she felt. What could she even do? It's not like she could call up Nicholas right now and tell him how she felt, how she knew, because there's a whole other person involved. She whines pathetically at the thought of her boyfriend. Yeah, maybe she and Nicholas had feelings for one another and Noah, but what about him?

She feels the couch beside her dip and her stomach turns at the thought of Noah. How would he feel about all of this? There's no telling how he'd react, finding out she was in love with their best friend and him, and said best friend was also in love with her and him. Does he even feel the same?

Her head pounds, a headache coming on immediately, and she curls herself into her friend's arms as she finally lets more tears fall.

"You need to tell them."

Analise's voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she shudders, head shaking against the girl's shoulder.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can." Analise pulls her back, hands coming up to cup her face to force Naomi to stare at her. "You need to tell them, Mimi."

She knows she should. She fucking knows that she should tell both Noah and Nicholas right now that she loves them so much that it makes her sick, makes her stomach twist and turn at the thought of ever being without either of them. A life without the two of them is a life she never wants to endure and... and she thinks that is what's stopping her. She would never be able to live with herself if this is what breaks them, if this is what pushes Noah from them.

She shakes her head in Analise's hold, "No. I can't."

Analise's hands drop from her face, lips pursed. "You're sostubborn sometimes, I can't stand it."

"You don't understand." She wipes at her face to rid herself of the tears that seem to still fall, tucking a few loose curls behind her ears. "This isn't me being stubborn, this is... I can't lose them. Sure, what if me and Nicholas feel the same? What about Noah? There's no telling how he even feels, if he'd even be okay with this." Naomi doesn't miss the way her voice wavers and she feels her bottom lip tremble, a fresh set of tears falling. "Lis, you know I can't fucking lose him."

"I know. I know, okay?" Analise gathers her in her arms again and she falls into it gratefully, face pressing against her shoulder. "I've never dealt with something like this, so I'm sure it's scary, right? The not knowing." Naomi feels her friend smooth down her hair, hugging her closer as she sighed out, "But I still think you need to tell them eventually. They deserve to know - especially Nick. I can't even imagine how he feels."

That makes Naomi's heart break in a whole new way, the realization of Nicholas having to deal with this on his own. Having to watch the two people he loves be together right in front of him and having to keep the way he feels hidden to keep things as normal as possible... because she knows he'd rather hurt himself by keeping them close than losing them for good. She chokes out a sob and Analise holds her closer, hands rubbing up and down her back to soothe her.

"I can't." She rasps out after a few minutes, calming down slightly but the tears still burning her eyes. She pulls back to look at Analise, head shaking. "At least not yet. I just - I can't."

Analise stares at her, hard, lips pressing together before sighing in defeat. A weight on Naomi's shoulders lifts, knowing that her friend won't press her anymore on this. She pulls away, hands sliding from Naomi's back to her arms, rubbing them soothingly.

"God, you’re so... fucking stubborn and really annoying sometimes," Analise grumbles, but there's no malice in her voice, "but I'm also going to be here for you every step of the way. Even if I'm not happy about it."

For some reason this makes Naomi laugh, a bit wet and rough, but she feels more at ease. Her shoulders finally relax.

"Thank you." She mumbles, reaching up to wipe at her face, and she sucks in a deep breath. "I just need to think about it, okay? I know it's not fair to Nicky, I know, but I can't..." Her voice trails off, that same heavy weight against her chest returning. "I don't know how to fucking do it, so I need to weigh out my options, you know?"

"I know." Analise's voice is so soft, so gentle, and Naomi has to try and will away the remaining tears that threaten to fall. "I'm here, okay? I'm on your side. Don't forget that."

Naomi doesn't respond, instead gives her friend a tight smile before leaning back into her embrace. She sucks in another deep breath and buries her face against Analise's shoulder, letting her eyes slip shut.

How did everything get so complicated?

...

"Hey," She tries to keep her voice even, lips pressing together to suppress her smile. "What're you doing on the 17th?"

Noah caught her gaze through the screen, brows furrowing at her question. "Uh... probably practicing. Why?"

"Oh, nothing." She averts her gaze from the screen as her shoulders go up into a nonchalant shrug, the struggle to keep the smile off her face growing harder each second. "Just wanted to know if you were free and wanted to pick me up from the airport at… eight that night."

She looks back at Noah now, full lips pulled into a grin, and he blinks. Naomi can see the wheels in his head slowly turning, trying to catch up to what she just said to him. He blinks again, face scrunching in confusion before it falls to one in disbelief, eyes widening.

“What the fuck.”

Mimi laughs, letting her head fall back against the couch, and Noah says it again, louder this time.

“What the fuck.” She lifts her head to look at the screen again, seeing a wide smile spreading across his lips. “You’re not fucking with me, right? You’re serious?”

“As can be.” She hums sending him a gentle smile through the screen. “I’ve had the tickets for a while, I wanted to surprise you at the apartment but forgot how expensive Ubers are, so I kind of need you to pick me up.”

“I will. I’d never make you pay for that.” She swears his smile gets nugget, laughter slipping from him. “How long will you be here?”

“Just a week.” Her lips dip downward from the smile she once wore, sighing quietly. “I’m trying not to use too much time, but I really wanted to see you guys and be there for the album release. This is huge. I couldn’t miss it.”

She notices the twitch in his lips, the slight drop at the mention of only being there for a week, but he covers it up quickly.

"That's fine. I wouldn't even care if it were just a day," He murmurs, eyes softening. "Just as long as I get to see you."

It's crazy what he does to her, her stomach fluttering so much she truly believes there's butterflies roaming around in there. Her cheeks heat up and her frown turns back into a sheepish smile.

"Yeah?"

"Of course. I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

"And so does Nick. Fuck, can I tell him? He's going to be so excited."

Naomi's heart drops at the mention of Nicholas' name and she has to swallow down the rush of feelings that come to her instantly.

"Yeah, you can tell him. I was gonna text him after I got off the phone with you." She says quietly, bringing her hand up to her mouth to chew at her thumb.

Noah's lips twitch up into a smile and he hums in response, "It's going to be so nice having you here... fuck, Nick's seriously going to be so excited. He mentioned the other day that he missed you."

Oh. Her tummy does that thing again where it's flipping and turning in every which way, and she knows her cheeks are heating up. She swallows thickly, throat drying up, but she does her best to smile back at Noah.

"Did he?"

"Yeah."

There's a short pause before Noah's changing the subject, obviously oblivious to Naomi's reactions. She nods along to whatever he says, trying to focus on her boyfriend and not the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, her brain screaming at her every chance it could.

She was going to have to tell them sooner rather than later.

Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the crowd around her, slight irritation bubbling inside of her. It was literally eight o'clock at night, a Wednesday night. Why the hell were there so many people? She huffs to herself as she continues to look for a familiar face, and her breath hitches once she finds Noah standing only a few feet away. He hadn't seen her yet, and she suspects he's wearing the same irritated expression that she is, eyes narrowed, and hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked through the sea of people.

Relief washes over his face when he finally spots her and her feet start moving before she even thinks about it, a smile spreading across her lips when he waves her over.

"Fucking finally." He groans out, barely giving her time to reply before he scoops her into his arms. "Felt like I was standing here forever."

She all but melts in his hold, the irritation she had been feeling just seconds before leaving her the moment Noah wrapped her up in his arms. This is what she was missing. The feeling of comfort she had so desperately been yearning for. Naomi sighs as she buries her face against his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. She feels his lips brush against the side of her temple, and she can feel the smile spreading across his features.

"That flight felt like it was fucking forever." Naomi grumbles, the memory of the crying baby a few seats behind her filling her mind. "Didn't think I was gonna make it."

"Thank fuck you did." Noah chuckles as she pulls back but keeps her arms around him. Their eyes lock and his smile grows, leaning down to press their foreheads together. "Missed you."

"Missed you." She whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

They stay like that for a beat before Noah's pulling back, looking around them as if he was waiting for someone else.

"Nicky should be on his way back..." Noah's voice trails off and Naomi's skin crawls at the mention of the other, stomach dropping. "Ah! There he is."

Her body turns as she follows Noah's gaze and in between the crowds of people emerges Nicholas, a wide grin stretching across his lips as their eyes meet. Her breath hitches in her throat, similar to how it had when she saw Noah, and her heart pounds against her chest. She stood still as Nicholas finally reached them, arms being thrown around her and her face pressing into his chest.

"There's our girl."

She sputters, the sound being muffled by Nicholas' shirt as he holds her closer, lips brushing against the side of her head.

Our girl.

In a perfect world that was true, she was theirs. She always had been, even when they were just friends. She feels her eyes burn. Knowing what she did now, how she felt for the both of them, what Nicholas felt... She squeezes her eyes shut and lets her arms wrap around his middle, hugging him tightly. She can hear Analise yelling at her in the back of her mind, chanting Tell them! Tell them! Tell them! but she can't. Not now, at least. Not right before the biggest day of their entire lives.

The burning behind her eyes doesn't stop especially when she feels Noah behind her, pressing into her as his arms slip around her and Nicholas, joining the embrace. It feels so right to be wrapped up between the two of them, having just the two of them pick her up from the airport. It makes so much sense, and she lets her mind wander back to that perfect world where this is the norm. Where they meet her here and pick her up, exchanging hugs, I love you, I missed you, and then heading off their home.

God. Naomi loves them so much that it physically hurts at this point.

Nicholas is the first to pull away, but Noah's still attached to her back, chin now resting against her shoulder.

"You're probably tired." Nicholas hums, eyes scanning over her face. She blinks away the tears, thankful none fall, but knows that he noticed the red rimming around her eyes. His brows furrow. "Everything alright?"

She nods, leaning back against Noah's chest. "Yeah. Just missed you guys."

His face softens and she feels Noah's arms squeeze around her gently.

"We missed you, too," Noah hums in response before finally untangling himself from her but leaves an arm around her shoulder. Nicholas reaches for her suitcase. "Nick’s right, you probably are tired and ready to get home.”

Home.

A lump rises into the base of her throat and she blinks away that burning feeling in her eyes, and leaned into Noah’s side, trying to relax in his embrace. She flicked her eyes towards Nicholas who was already looking at her, eyes narrowed slightly, but lips tugged into a small smile. He knew something was up with her, more than just being tired, but she knew he wouldn't press.

Naomi gives him her own smile, small but a smile nonetheless, and nuzzles herself further into Noah's side.

“I should’ve picked an earlier flight.” She says, a yawn soon following after. She was tired, and later flights always leaves her exhausted. It was about eight at night California time, so even later than the East Coast time she was used to. “I‘m exhausted.”

"Well, let’s get you home and into bed, hm?" Noah squeezed her shoulder, and she felt the brush of his lips against the side of her head, eyes fluttering shut at the comforting feeling.

"Yeah." Her eyes open again to stare at Nicholas beside her and then tilting her head up to stare at Noah, chest aching only slightly, the burn behind her eyes slowly leaving. "Let's go home."

…

There had been a lot more people there than she had anticipated, and as she eyed the crowd from the merch table she was currently guarding, her chest swelled with pride. She had noticed the rise of Bad Omens in these last few months, their follower count growing steadily, online forums talking about them and their upcoming debut release more and more. It was almost fulfilling to see it all finally come to light, years of blood, sweat, and tears finally leading them to this very moment.

Naomi knows how hard they had worked for this - how hard Noah had worked for this. She has to swallow down her pride, willed away the burning tears at her eyes as she watched Noah work the crowd. It had to be exhilarating, she thinks, getting the crowd hyped up, hearing them sing back those very lyrics you spent hours on. She can't even imagine what Noah must be feeling right now. Not even just him, but Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly as well. They all look like they're meant to be up there.

She’s so fucking proud.

Her focus on the stage was broken by someone coming up to the table, giving her a timid smile as they pointed to a shirt behind her. She shook herself out of her thoughts and smiled gently at them before reaching for the shirt that they had wanted. They looked young, probably around Folio’s age, and she watched as they handed over the cash for the shirt. She's going by memory now, sorting through money to give them their change and she looks up briefly at the stage.

She freezes, the dollar bills almost slipping from her grasp. Noah had moved from the center of the stage over to the left, where Nicholas had stood, and the sight had something igniting inside Naomi – like there was a fire in the pit of her stomach. Noah moves with a purpose, slinging an arm over Nicholas' shoulder and presses into his side. This shouldn't be doing something for her, because they've always done this, but it's Noah's next move that has her breath hitching ever so slightly.

Noah's twisting Nicholas towards him, leaning forward so their foreheads can press together. She swallows thickly and watches as Noah's hand goes to move to the back of Nicholas' neck, gripping. Nicholas' eyes flutter shut in that exact moment, and she has to press her lips together in hopes for her mouth to not fucking drop open, especially when Noah presses forward again, their noses barely brushing together as he sang into the mic.

Naomi forced her gaze away from the two, heart pounding against her chest and that fiery pit in her stomach not letting up once. She tried to rid herself of those thoughts, lips straining into a smile as she finally handed the change back to the fan who wasn't even phased. They smiled warmly, and if they noticed the slight flush to her cheeks, they didn't comment on it, instead thanking her and walking off.

She let out a breath she had been holding, eyes gazing back towards the stage and felt the relief flow through her body when she noticed that Noah was on the other side now. Thank God, she thinks, letting out another long breath before helping out another fan. She’s not sure she could handle seeing them that close again.

As their set went on, she lost count of the times her mind drifted back to Noah leaning into Nicholas' space, his hand placed on the back of the other's neck to hold him there as their foreheads pressed together. She pushed it as far back as she could while doing her job for the night, but it was always there, unmoving in a small portion of her mind. They looked good together, faces far too close to not be taken as intimate, eyes shut in almost ecstasy... Naomi shakes her head.

Girl, get a grip, she thinks.

She can't get too lost in that thought, doesn't let herself cling on to the what if? of the situation. She hadn't let herself think of the maybe, the mere possibility of Noah feeling the same for Nicholas. She doesn't have to think twice on how her boyfriend feels for her because she knows - Noah never gave her a reason to think otherwise. It's Noah's feelings for Nicholas that she's confused about.

They grew up together. Where Nicholas went, Noah seemed to follow, even long after Naomi had come into the picture and became their friend. She thinks back to long nights spent at their apartment, staying up way too late and passing around a bottle of wine as they talked about their dreams, the future. She remembers how Noah was always staring at her, at the time not knowing the look in his eyes was filled with pure adoration. But she also remembers Noah staring at Nicholas, when he thought no one was paying attention. Not as often as he did her, but he still would. With that same look.

She didn't know it then, but she knows it now, and her stomach turns all the same as it had with Analise a few weeks ago.

"Holy fucking shit."

Folio's voice breaks her out of her thoughts and Naomi turns away from the box she's working on to face her friend, giving him a wide smile.

"Dude!" She all but shouts as Folio bounds his way to the merch table, throwing her arms around him. "That was so fucking sick!"

He slips an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You think?"

"Think?" Naomi pulls back to stare at him, giving him the most ridiculous look. "Did you not see that crowd? You fucking killed it. They all loved it!”

Folio smiles, big and full of pride, and she can't help but wrap her arms around him again, pulling him back into another hug.

"So proud of you." Naomi remembers the very beginnings of this band, and to think back to where they started up to this very moment makes her a little misty eyed. "Only up from here."

Folio's eyes roll playfully when he pulls away. "Please. The album just came out."

"And?" She laughs now, pinching his arm. "Just watch - in a few years everyone's going to know who Bad Omens are."

"...I hope so." He smiles sheepishly now, head dipping down to hide the hint of flush on his cheeks.

"I hope so too."

Their conversation is cut short when she hears a few loud voices come closer to them, turning her head to spot the rest of the band coming their way. Her stomach drops the second she sees Noah, and she can't help but stare as both he and Nicholas make their way over to the merch table. Memories of them on stage flash through her mind and she has to look away from them, trying to shake whatever thoughts that seemed to float through her mind. She cannot be thinking about that.

But it's so hard, especially with how good they looked together. Noah's hand wrapped around the back of Nicholas' neck; Nicholas' eyes fluttering shut as Noah pressed himself closer... She physically shakes her head this time, trying to will away those thoughts as Noah comes up to her. She tries to do her best to act like a normal human being and not someone who was just thinking about her boyfriend doing God knows what with their best friend.

"So?" Noah's grin is so wide, she's sure his cheeks hurt, and she doesn't stop herself from throwing her arms around him.

"That was fucking amazing!" Naomi all but squeals. "Y'all have always been good but shit... this show was top tier."

Noah pulls away from her just enough for them to lock eyes, his grin falling to something much softer - timider. "You think so?"

She nods, standing slightly on her tiptoes to press her lips to his cheek gently. "Well duh. Of course, I do."

"You're just saying that because you like me." Noah grumbles playfully and she can't help but pinch at his side, laughing when he yelps.

"Oh, shut up." Their eyes meet again, and her gaze softens, arms slipping back around his waist. "You've worked really fucking hard for this and it showed up there tonight. I'm so proud of you."

She smiles up at Noah gently before turning to face Jolly and Nicholas who have finally joined the group, catching their gazes.

"You guys, too. I don't think I've ever been prouder of anyone in my entire life."

Nicholas blushes, face red and looks away from her, mumbling a quiet "Thank you" and busying himself with folding the rest of the shirts she had laying out. Cute, she thinks to herself before she looks at Jolly, who's waving her off.

"Oh, please. Don't go soft on me." But from the faint color on his cheeks as well, she knows he appreciated it.

"So, what's the plan?" Folio speaks up, looking around the group. "Celebratory drinks?"

"You're not even legal yet, dude." Noah teases, resting his arm around Naomi's shoulder.

"Neither are you?" Her, Nicholas, and Jolly say in unison before breaking out in laughter, especially at the pouty face Noah gives them.

"Almost!"

"Yeah, two months." Nicholas snorts, casting both her and Noah a look before focusing back on the shirts. "But I'm down to drink."

"Me too." Jolly agrees. "Nick, Mimi - you guys get this all packed up. The rest of the crew will get everything else. Sound good?"

She meets Nicholas' eyes and nods, giving him a gentle smile before focusing back on Jolly, throwing him a thumbs up. "Sounds good to me."

"The quicker we finish, the quicker we can get out of here." Noah says happily, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pulling away from her. "Let's get this shit done. I'm ready for a drink."

The three of them walk over to the rest of the crew, beginning to take down their equipment, leaving her and Nicholas alone. This was the first time she had been alone with him since he had been home weeks ago, and her stomach swirls in excitement as she slips into the space next to him, folding the rest of the shirts scattered across the table.

"You did good tonight." She hummed, bumping her hip into his.

"Yeah?" He keeps his voice low, and she steals a quick glance at him to see the sides of his mouth quirking up into a smile. She nods. "Thank you. I had fun."

"You looked like you did." The words fall from her mouth without much thought, and immediately the image of him and Noah on stage plague her mind. She clears her throat. "You guys are really getting the hang of this."

"It's gotten easier." He says with a shrug, closing up a box he had finished. "Still weird having people like... come and see us? Like. Singing our songs and shit. It's weird but nice."

"It's amazing, that's what it is." She pauses her actions to lean her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "I sound like a broken record but I just... I'm so proud of you guys. You've been busting your asses for years and it's finally paying off."

Nicholas reaches for the shirts she had folded, and her eyes watch his movements, watching as he placed them into another empty box. Most of the shirts have been tucked away nicely and the only things left are some CDs and a few vinyl variants, and a few posters she thinks.

"Thank you for coming and helping out." Their eyes meet again, and she holds in a breath, but doesn't look away. "I was scared shitless for tonight, but it was uh, easier. Knowing you were in the crowd." He reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. "Made it easier for Noah, too."

His words pull at her heart, chest tightening. She made it easier for them. Having her there made the biggest night of their lives easier in some shape or form and she has to blink away the burning in her eyes, lips tugging into a smile.

"I'm glad I was able to make it easier."

They stare at each other for a beat longer than needed and Nicholas' eyes drop, going back to packing up their stuff.

"Ready to haul this shit out to the van?"

She eyes the filled boxes around them, and then the things that still need to be packed up, and internally groans to herself. She wishes they had at least one more set of hands to help out, but everyone else is handling all the heavy duty that she definitely doesn't want to deal with and nods.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

And on the back-and-forth trips she and Nicholas make from the venue to the van, she can't shake away the feeling in the back of her mind telling her that it's going to be a long night.

…

Naomi feels warm all over.

The alcohol courses through her veins as she and Noah throw back their third shot of the night. She makes a face, her chest burning from the contents, and chases the after taste with her mixed drink. Noah laughs from beside her.

"Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad."

She groans and leans into his side, her forehead pressing against his shoulder. "You know how much I hate tequila."

His arm wraps around her, pulling her closer, and she shivers at the feeling of his fingers dancing along her hip and up under her shirt, rubbing the skin there gently. He dips his head down to brush his lips against her cheek, another laugh escaping him. Another shiver ran through her. She's forgotten just how touchy Noah can get whenever he drinks, and after weeks of not seeing him, she's realizing just how much she's missed his hands against her.

"You're being such a baby."

"Fuck you." She jokes, pulling her head up to look at him. He's already staring at her, eyes glazed over and a dopey grin on his lips.

"Didn't peg you as an exhibitionist, babe."

Naomi sputters at Noah's words and the grin on his lips only grows, and she shoves at his chest playfully.

"You're terrible." She grumbles, but there's no heat behind her words, the edges of her lips tugging in a smile as her eyes roll.

Noah laughs, loud and bright, and she lets that very smile on her lips grow.

"But you looove me." Noah all but sings, pressing a very over dramatic kiss to her cheek.

She laughs, half-heartedly shoving at his chest. "Hush."

He pulls back to stare at her, and she almost misses the playful glint in his gaze before his eyes drop to her lips. Her tummy flips and she found herself leaning in, wanting nothing more than to have Noah's lips against hers, but stops midway when she sees movement behind the boy.

Nicholas slips into the spot next to Noah and Naomi can't help but stare, eyes roaming over his alcohol flushed face. Noah feels him right away, a smile stretching across his lips as he turns to look back at him. Her eyes gaze down to his hand coming to rest on Nicholas' thigh and he drops his head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

"Hi Nicky."

His tone was sweet and something about it made Naomi’s chest twist. She tries to not think about that right now, not with her hazy, alcohol induced mind, but she can't help but pull her bottom lip in between her teeth at the sight of Noah in between both her and Nicholas. Her mind goes back to Noah’s arm wrapped around Nicholas, against her own will, and remembers him leaning his head against the others as he sang into the microphone. She squirms in her seat.

She isn’t sure why it got her so riled up, but she quite literally couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way Nicholas’ eyes fluttered shut, fingers working along his bass as Noah pressed against him… she has to press her thighs together to try and relieve some of the heat building up inside of her.

With a shake of her head, she reaches forward to brush some of Noah's hair from his face and she doesn't miss the way Nicholas' tenses at Noah's affection, a strained smile forming on his lips.

"Hi Noah."

"Where'd you wander off to?" Noah's words were slurred, and his eyes open now, lifting his head up to rest his chin on Nicholas' shoulder now. "I've been waiting for you to come take a shot with me, Mimi's being a wimp about it."

Naomi notices the shift in Nicholas' eyes and the way his throat bobs at the close proximity. Her hand drops from Noah's hair to his thigh, gently rubbing, and the boy reaches absentmindedly with his free hand to lace their fingers together.

"I am not." She argues and can't help but huff, eyes rolling. "He gave me tequila when he knows I fucking hate it."

"Oh, man." Nicholas laughs, eyes scrunching. "You know how she feels about tequila, dude. She can't handle it like us - she’s a baby.”

Her mouth drops open, offended.

“Hey!” But it goes ignored.

"Well, I was waiting for you! Then I couldn't find you so," Noah shrugs and lifts his head to look at her. "Mimi was my victim for the night."

"I'm here now." She notices the way Nicholas' shoulders relax, leaning into Noah. His smile isn't strained anymore. "Do you think you can handle another one?"

The mischievous grin Noah gives Nicholas is answer enough and before she realizes it, there's more shots on the table for them - tequila still, much to Naomi's dismay. Jolly joins them at some point, and so does Folio, but they both come and go as they work their way around the bar to talk to everyone. The three of them stay put in their booth, throwing back shots.

As the night goes on, her mind grows hazier and hazier with each shot she takes. She should've stopped, she knows this, especially when they stopped tasting like alcohol and more like water, but it was the only way to calm her nerves. Even in her drunk haze she was able to notice how handsy Noah was tonight.

Perhaps it was the tequila making him this way, and maybe it was because they hadn't seen each other in so long that he needed to touch her in any way that he could, but it was driving her crazy. His hand would inch higher every few minutes, fingers dipping into the exposed flesh of her thigh. Every time she'd feel his nails dig into her skin she'd squirm, pressing her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building up.

She moved her focus from the hand on her thigh, to try and regain some kind of normalcy in that brain of hers, and found Nicholas staring at her. Well, not exactly staring at her but... at Noah's hand on her thigh, inching upward every few seconds. His tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip and then his eyes flick up towards hers, widening for a second when he realized he had been caught.

Her breath hitches and she just can't seem to look away, and neither could Nicholas, and it wasn't until another squeeze on her thigh from Noah pulled her away from those hypnotizing eyes.

"-huh?" She says dumbly, looking over at Noah. He had said something, but she didn't quite catch it, too preoccupied. Noah laughs. If he had noticed her staring at Nicholas, he didn't comment on it.

"Just said I don't think I've drank this much in... forever." He hums, head leaning on her shoulder. She relaxes and leans into him, head turning to brush her lips against the side of his head.

"Same." She groans, eyes fluttering shut. "Don't think I've ever drank so much tequila in my life. You two are evil."

She hears both Nicholas and Noah chuckle at that and she smiles, opening her eyes again to look between the two. It was nice to be there with them, reminding her of the days spent in their apartment with their cheap, shitty wine. Her stomach turns, chest squeezing at the memory, and she feels herself almost yearning for that. Back when things didn't have to make sense and she just loved being around them.

If only things could be so simple.

"Yeah, it's been a minute since I've drank this much." Nicholas says while scratching at his neck, a light flush covering his cheeks. "Think I need to slow down."

"Fuck. Same." Noah's quiet for a moment before he laughs, picking his head up to look at Nicholas. "Remember that one night? Like... two years ago?"

Nicholas raises a brow at him. "You're gonna have to be more specific there, man."

"Davis' birthday? We almost drank damn near everything by ourselves."

Naomi sees something shift in Nicholas' eyes, the redness on his cheeks becoming more and more apparent as time passes.

"Oh yeah." His voice is clipped, jaw twitching. "I remember."

Her eyes narrow between the two boys, not understanding the exchange. He seemed... she wasn't sure what he seemed like, but the only thing she could describe it as is tense. Just like he'd been for weeks. She doesn't remember the last time she'd seen Nicholas relaxed for more than an hour; doesn't even remember the last time she didn't notice the lingering sadness that floated around in his eyes. She frowns at him, and he shifts his gaze, looking back at Noah.

"That was fucking crazy." Noah slurs, then turns his head to look at Naomi. "Have I ever told you about that night?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. All I remember is that you guys were miserable the next day. Kind of glad I had to miss it for work."

"You should be glad. Davis almost killed us." Nicholas grumbled and Noah laughed beside her.

"I only remember bits from that night, if I'm being honest." He starts, and then turns his focus back on Nicholas. "Didn't I kiss you?"

"Pardon?" She feels like her eyes are about to jump right out of her fucking head, heart pounding against her chest. Noah looks at her again, head tilted. "Back track. You guys kissed?!"

"Almost." Nicholas' eyes are just as wide as hers and he's quick to answer, head shaking. "Almost kissed. I think I stopped him. Or… maybe Davis did? Actually, I think he ended up tripping and stopping himself.”

Noah's laughing again, all happy and calm as if he didn't just drop the biggest bomb in the history of ever. Naomi's heart slows down, only slightly though, because they didn't actually kiss. For some reason she finds herself being a tad bit disappointed by that.

This is not helping her earlier thoughts one fucking bit.

"Oh yeah! I did trip, but I think Davis was going to stop us, anyways."

Naomi's eyes flick between them in silence as her mind goes into overdrive, every possible scenario running through it. Noah and Nicholas almost kissed. Touching and kissing and the sweet, sweet noises Noah would be making because she knows how much the boy loves kissing and...

The tequila is working overtime tonight because her mouth moves before her mind can even catch up.

"Me and Nicky almost kissed once, too."

It was Noah's turn to look at her like she was crazy, brown eyes wide in surprise. Nicholas looks... terrified. All the color has drained from his face and part of her feels bad, like she should have asked him if it was okay to bring it up, but Noah had brought up their almost kiss. Why couldn't she? It's not like they actually did kiss, just like them.

Even if she wishes they had.

"When?!" Noah practically shrieks, and if it weren't for the music and other conversations going on in the bar, she's sure everyone else would've heard them.

She shrugs. "Uh. When he tattooed me. The first time. Forever ago."

Noah's mouth parts and looks at her, and then at Nicholas, then back to her again.

"Wow..."

Her stomach swirls with nerves and she's sure he's just shocked and not

angry, especially when the way his grip has not loosened on her thigh one bit. She's more nervous about Nicholas, gazing up at him but he's already looking at her. She feels hot under his gaze, and there's something behind the look that she can't fucking read and it's driving her crazy.

"That's..." Noah starts again but stops, throat moving as he swallows, blinking between the both of them again.

"It was forever ago. Before you guys were even a thing." Nicholas says quickly, placing a reassuring hand on Noah's thigh.

Noah just nods, dazed, and maybe it was the alcohol catching up making his reaction this way - whatever this way is - but the way he's looking at them... Naomi chews on her bottom lip, her hand finding Noah's that was still placed on her thigh.

"Are you upset?" She questions, fear rising inside of her.

"No." He's quick with his response, turning his full attention to her. "I'm just... thinking."

"...About what?"

"I..." Noah pauses, tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip, eyes shifting between both her and Nicholas. "I think you guys should kiss."

She freezes, the hand she had on Noah's thigh digging into the fabric of his jeans. Her eyes dart to Nicholas' and she's sure they have the same exact look on their faces - eyes blown wide, lips parted, staring at Noah like he had three fucking heads because... what the fuck?

Naomi notices the way Nicholas shifts uncomfortably in his seat, lips pressed in a line as his eyes dart between her and Noah. She catches his gaze and holds it steadily, trying to ask him quietly what the hell do we do? without actually saying anything. His jaw twitches, and then he swallows, and tears his gaze from hers to look at Noah.

"Isn't that... weird?" He starts, voice rough. He clears his throat. "You're dating."

Noah doesn't say anything at first, his blown-out eyes staring at the two of them sitting either side of him. Naomi's eyes drop to Nicholas' hand that's still placed on Noah's thigh, and then to her own hand that's wrapped in between her boyfriend's. Her stomach swirls, heat builds up inside of her just at the very image of Noah pressed against the two of them, and she's reminded of their interaction on stage. She bites down on her bottom lip and squeezes Noah's hand, causing the boy to look at her.

"I wanna see it." Noah's words are slurred together, and she's reminded that the boy is very much drunk, as are her and Nicholas.

"Noah, babe, I don't know-"

"Please." He cuts her off and his words are desperate, voice edging on a whine as he stares at her with wide eyes. "It's okay. I... I wanna see it."

Both her and Nicholas share a look across Noah, and she's sure they're both filled with uncertainty, but she can't help but want to do it so badly. Especially now that Noah is asking for it - practically begging. He wants them to kiss. He wants to see it. Why? She's not sure, but God does she want it.

And with the way Nicholas is staring at her, it's safe to assume he wants it too.

"Okay." She says slowly, peeling her eyes away from Nicholas to look at her boyfriend. "As long as you're okay with it... and Nicky is, too."

Noah looks at Nicholas expectantly and she sees the older male swallow, eyes bouncing between the two of them before he nods slowly.

"Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm okay with it."

Great. Cool. Fantastic.

She swallows the lump in her throat, anxiety climbing its way through her as the two of them shift around to get into a much more comfortable position. Noah stays between them, watching with eager eyes, and Naomi doesn't dare take her hand away from his, his touch keeping her grounded.

What the fuck is happening? He has to realize how crazy this is, right? He's just drunk. He would never let this happen if he was sober, thinking more clearly. Though, her mind drifts to the saying of drunk words being your sober thoughts, and her body heats up just at the mere thought of Noah thinking about this before.

She sucks in a shaky breath as Nicholas leans towards her, his forehead pressing against her own. Noah's hand squeezes hers, his thumb sliding against her skin reassuringly, but the nerves in her stomach won't quit.

Her eyes flutter shut the second their lips meet, and she can't stop the gasp that seems to leave her. His lips were soft, not as soft as Noah's, but much softer than she ever expected. They both don't move at first, just sit there with their lips pressed together, until she feels Noah's hands squeeze hers again. She moves first, lips dragging across Nicholas' and she physically shakes at the noise he makes, a groan from deep inside his chest. He reaches up with a shaky hand to cup the side of her face and she wraps her free hand around his wrist, keeping it there as their lips move together.

Naomi swears her heart is about to burst out of her chest when she pulls away from Nicholas. Silence surrounds them as their eyes open and her breath catches in her throat, lips still buzzing from the kiss, and she so desperately wants to lean back in. She doesn't though, instead her tongue darts out to swipe across her bottom lip and her entire body heats up as Nicholas' eyes follows it, before dragging his eyes back up her face.

"My turn." Noah's voice pulled Naomi's gaze away from Nicholas, looking into her boyfriend's wide, brown eyes. He looked just about as dazed as she felt, his skin flushed pink from the alcohol and possibly something else. He purses his lips into a pout. "Please?"

She smiles easily, her hand that was resting against his thigh coming up to cup the side of his face. Noah melts into the touch instantly, turning his head to nose at the palm of her hand. "Of course, baby."

They fall into each other naturally, Naomi's lips finding home against Noah's. It felt right - like it always had. Even in her drunken state it still felt as if this was where she was supposed to be, and with Nicholas being so close, her heart nearly jumped its way out of her chest at just how perfect everything felt. Like he was always meant to be there, with them.

Noah's kisses are desperate, a bit sloppy, something that tends to happen when he drinks, and Naomi's hand falls from his cheek to the back of his neck, fingers working through his hair. She tugs gently, a silent way of telling him to relax, breathe, and the whimper he lets out against her lips goes straight to her core.

Fuck.

They pull a part and Noah already looks wrecked, lips red, shiny, and swollen. His flushed face even darker now, eyes dilated like crazy. He looks like she could tell him to do anything, and he’d do it, simply only to please her. She smiles sweetly at him, gently scratching at his scalp and leaning back in to press a kiss to the side of his mouth.

"Was that good enough for you?" She teases in a gentle voice when she pulls back.

Noah nods but doesn't say a word, staring at her for a moment before he glances off to the side. Nicholas sits beside them quietly, patiently, but with the same blown-out, flustered gaze Noah has. She's sure she looks similar to them, a slight twinge of color to her cheeks, eyes wild. She swallows.

"Nicky," Noah hums from beside her, shifting his body towards Nicholas'. Her hand falls from his hair and back to his thigh. "Can I kiss you too?"

He says it so gently, with so much care, that Naomi's heart clenches beneath her chest. Noah looks back at her for a moment, eyes wide now with a bit of fear, silently asking permission and she nods. Of course, she does, because why would she ever deny him of this? She sees it now, sees what Analise had been trying to tell her just mere weeks ago.

If these boys haven't noticed it yet, they will soon.

She looks at Nicholas now, seeing the hesitancy behind his eyes and she gives him a nod as well. She watches his throat bob as he swallows before his gaze lands on Noah's again, giving him a timid smile.

"Is that what you want?"

Noah nods, a little too enthusiastically that Naomi has to hold back a laugh. "Yes. I want it."

Another glance is shared between Naomi and Nicholas and the older boy nods to himself, as if preparing for what's about to happen.

"Okay."

At first no one moves, and Naomi watches the two boys expectantly as they stare at each other. Noah's gaze falls to Nicholas' lips and his tongue darts out to swipe over his own before a whine pulls itself from his chest and he's reaching out, fingers curling around Nicholas' shirt to bring him closer. Nicholas lets him do it, eyes shutting as their lips finally meet and Naomi freezes. She doesn't move, doesn't even fucking breathe, but watches both boys kiss in front of her.

Noah whines against Nicholas' lips, desperate and borderline pitiful, and Naomi's thighs press together. The noise travels straight to her core and her fingers dip into Noah's thigh, her grip tightening. She watches carefully as Nicholas brings a hand up to Noah's cheek, cupping his cheek like had done hers moments ago while the younger trying to deepen the kiss. Their lips slide together messily, hungry for more, and the only thing she can think of right now is how good they look together and how she desperately wants to be between them.

She has to push the thought of her lips sliding across Noah's, Nicholas behind her and his lips attached to her neck, so far to the back of her mind or else... she's not sure what she would do. But whatever it is she can't do it, especially here. In a very public place. Her heart rate picks up just at the thought of someone catching them and almost as if they could feel her distress, the two boys finally part.

Nicholas looks at her first, eyes darting between her and Noah. She swallows at the sight of his hand still placed against Noah's cheek, thumb brushing against his skin.

"Happy?"

Noah nods in his hold, dazed, and at a loss for words. Nicholas smiles, small, but soft, and it's the smile she knows that he's saved for only them, and the quick pace of her heart slows down for just a moment. This feels right. The thought doesn't scare her as much.

Noah finally looks at her, hooded eyes and a dazed smile settling on his lips, and she can't help but reach forward, pushing some hair out of his face and tucking it loosely behind his ear. He turns his head slightly, pressing another kiss against the base of his palm and her heart squeezes beneath her chest. She feels Nicholas' eyes on her, and she turns to look at him.

Two things happened at that moment.

She notices the exact moment of realization flash through Nicholas' eyes when they finally meet hers, and she watches them widen. She's not sure what exactly he's realizing, because she thinks he's known about his own feelings for some time now, but perhaps... Perhaps he's realizing that he's not the only one in this. That he’s not alone.

She can only hope, though.

The soft realization is soon overtaken by another, eyes widening even more, and her skin runs cold. The softness is gone and now replaced by fear, and his face drains from any color. His hand drops from Noah's cheek and scoots away from him, trying to put some distance between the three of them.

He's panicking.

"Nicky..." She starts, sobering up quickly.

"I'm okay." He sounds anything but and pushes himself up and out of the booth. "I'm okay. I just - I need air."

Noah stirs beside her, and he scoots closer to the edge of the booth, trying to reach out for Nicholas. "Where are you going?"

Nicholas looks down at him, and then her, and his expression is pained, like he's battling with himself internally. Naomi's heart drops.

"I'll be back, okay?" He rushes out, giving Noah a quick and very strained smile. "I just. Need air. It's hot. I'm drunk. Not a good mix."

And then he's gone, pushing his way through the crowd to get as far away from them as he could. Naomi feels like she could cry, the moment sobering her up too fucking much because the moment was finally catching up to her.

What the fuck did they do?

"Is he okay?" Noah's voice breaks her out of her thoughts, and she blinks away the tears she hadn't realized were building up, looking towards her boyfriend.

"Yeah." She says, but she feels like it’s a lie, and reaches forward to smooth some of his hair back. "Just needed some air. He'll be back."

That seems to be enough for Noah, his shoulders dropping in relief and a satisfied smile stretches across his lips. Naomi tries to smile back, but she knows it doesn't reach her eyes and she leans forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Let's get some water, yeah? I don't think we need any more shots."

He agrees easily, letting her drag him through the crowd to try and find some water, and they eventually bump into Jolly and Folio on the way. She tries to act normal, even when Jolly asks where Nicholas ran off to, but he seems to be satisfied when she tells him that he just went outside for a breather, he'll be back. No one questioned it again, even when they didn't see him for the rest of the night.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #nicholas ruffilo x ofc #noah sebastian x ofc #mine

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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months

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The Rogue and The Barbarian

Summary: Six months after the game, Astarions asks Tiriel why she's stayed with him.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, post-game, patch 5 epilogue, named Tav, established relationship, f!tav

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

This line from the epilogue really got me so I decided to write the confession scene featuring my beloved OC Tav named Tiriel.

One night he tells you that these six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.

Thanks @satanicspinosaurus for the amazing work as a beta-reader. Your comments and suggestions were super helpful.

Tiriel is a half-elf Barbarian with Chaotic Good allignment. More about her here

Steam rises over a small pond at the back of the cave, and it almost looks as good as a hot bath in the inn. The warm spring nicely heats the air, contrasting to the cold nights Astarion and Tiriel have faced for the last few months.

Six months, to be precise.

Astarion cautiously approaches the pond. The murky surface can’t reflect anyone, and the vampire touches the water.

"Go on, I'll join you!" Tiriel says, and her voice echoes in the cave.

"Don't make me wait too long, then," he answers.

Six months ago, the tadpole which allowed him to walk in the sun dissapeared. Six months ago, the insane adventure he had found himself in was over. Six months ago, he murdered the monster who had made him a vampire.

Six months ago, he became free.

Astarion undresses, laying his clothes beside the pool. The clothes are dirty with blood, and so is he.

Being naked feels weird and uneasy. The sense of vulnerability returns as he sits at the pond's edge, submerging his legs in warm water.

It would be naïve to believe his demons and darkness would disappear after the monster's death. That the gnawing void in his chest would somehow miraculously heal in one day. His darkness lingers in his mind daily, devouring thoughts and sanity. The only thing he can do is fight.

Astarion takes a piece of cloth and starts washing dirt off his skin. If only it was possible to wash away all the non-consensual touches he'd endured over years. To forget, to peel it off.

If only…

A soft thump takes Astarion out of his thoughts, and he sees a pile of clothes getting bigger – adding Tiriel's trousers and shirt under her armor.

Tiriel stays at the edge beside him for a heartbeat and then jumps into the water, splashing Astarion with a warm wave.

"Finally!" the half-elf says, returning to the surface and sitting at the pond's edge.

Astarion can't take his eyes away from Tiriel. Hair, red as fire. Her right eye is greyish blue, like the autumn sky. The other used to be green as spring before the hag had transformed it.

Freckles dance all over her body, especially plenty on her back. Half-elven ears with a thin scar on one of them. Breasts, small and perky. A bigger bottom. "Elven tits but human butt!" she once told him after receiving yet another playful slap from him. Hands so elegant and feminine, elven-like. Legs more human-like, thick, and strong.

She is stuck between two worlds and takes the best from both.

Tiriel the Barbarian is a woman of no kin and no home.

"Need help?" she asks.

"I am pretty capable of washing myself."

"I know, but do you need help?"

"Yes, please."

Tyrael smiles and kneels behind him with a piece of rag.

"Tell me if it hurts".

He nods. Somehow, being both naked doesn't have anything sexual. It is something else, some new level of intimacy. Tiriel lovingly washes his body, and her touches are gentle and caring. Occasionally, she plants a kiss, and a shiver goes down his spine.

Astarion relaxes, closing his eyes like a content cat. His world reduces to the sound of dripping water and Tiriel's humming.

The song sounds unfamiliar. Sometimes, Astarion thinks he's already heard all the songs and ballads Tiriel knows. Still, every other evening, she chooses another. Sometimes, he thinks she composes them, but she laughs at the suggestion.

Astarion, my heart, do I look like a bard to you? It's just how humans tell their stories.

Astarion concentrates on Tiriel's voice and her gentle caress. She starts washing his hair, massaging the scalp with long, stiff fingers.

"I never heard this song."

“It’s a ballad of half-elves. A human woman falls in love with an elf. She offers him gifts – a heavy sword made of iron, sleeping potions to make him dream, a fur cape to warm him in the coldest winter, a stallion fast as the wind. And he just mocks her. Because human lives are short and their ways are animalistic. But it seems the mocking is dishonest, since half-elves are born anyway."

Astarion catches her arm and presses lips against Tiriel's wrist. She giggles and nuzzles his neck.

"Which would you take if someone offered you such gifts?"

"Difficult choice," Astarion chuckles. "I don't think I could pick up the sword; horses fear me. The cape sounds nice."

"The cape enchanted with fire magic - that has its own warmth," Tiriel sings.

"Then definitely the cape."

She laughs. "I would have taken the sword."

"Who would ever doubt that, my ferocious love?"

Tiriel hugs Astarion from behind, placing her cheek on the upper part of his scars. Her grip is tight, as if she tries not to let him fall.

Astarion places a palm over her hands. Tiriel is so warm. He doesn't want to let her go. If, a mere year ago, someone told him that this would be his life very soon enough-he would bitterly laugh at their faces.

Freedom? A monster dying a painful death? Tiriel? Those things were unreal.

Tiriel finally lets him go and returns to washing herself.

"Tiriel"

She looks up at him. Her eyes were so close he could see the green iris behind the foggy hag eye.

"What is it?"

"Why do you stay?"

She pulls back a bit.

"What do you mean?"

"I – I don't understand why you are with me. You could choose any man but chose me. Why?"

Tiriel is silent and Astarion fears he has hurt her. There is an instinct to apologize, to beg for forgiveness. He shouldn’t have asked.

She sighs. "Apart from the fact you are the most beautiful and handsome man I ever met in my life?"

"Six months ago, I would have thought that was enough."

Tiriel takes his hand. "Look at me, please."

Her smile shines like the summer sun. "You want to know why I am with you? Because you sometimes think that I am with you either for pity or just because of your looks?"

He nods.

"I love you for being brave. For being strong. All these decades of torments and you preserved yourself. You survived where madness was the only choice. You never allowed to break yourself. What can be more heroic? Every day you fight the darkness in your soul – and win. It is an invisible fight but, gods, it's more formidable than fighting dragons and monsters. I can see it. I see it daily, and I admire you for that. Because accepting darkness is easy."

She touches a loose strand of silver hair and kisses his cheek. "I love you for being so smart and good with words. I can't even read – and you know so many things I didn't even know existed! You open a new world for me, every day!"

"You know I can teach you how to read?"

"My eyes hurt when these letters jump on the page."

"Unless the book is enchanted, they are not supposed to."

Tiriel cups his cheek and plants a kiss on his forehead.

"You care about me. You protect me. No one ever did! I am this wild warrior girl who can kill a giant with one swift of her sword. Who can be beaten to death and then stands up with bones broken and wounds bleeding and shrugs it all away. No matter how in pain I was, no one ever asked me how I felt. No one cared. Do you know why people like me drink ale all the time, especially celebrating victories? Because we're in pain. But we can't show it, it's a weakness. And we can't be weak."

Tiriel suddenly turns her eyes away, and Astarion sees a glimpse of pain as if she re-lives those moments. He pictures a wounded woman who drinks herself to numbness while people cheer her for slaying a monster. Then a bleeding half-elf curled up in the tent, hollow and miserable.

"But you – you care. When I don't rage anymore, when I feel the pain and exhaustion again, I don't have to think how to get back to camp and make sure my companions don't steal my part of the loot. I can just fall into your arms and let you take care of the rest. Washing me, helping to undress. You help me with my flesh wounds and broken bones. You wait till I recover – and don't let me risk myself."

"It would be cruel to let you return to the fight with internal bleeding."

"Aastarion, that's the point. I've never had anyone who would do that to me. I never knew I could sleep so worriless. My heart, you are safety. You are protection. You let me hide behind your back. No one ever did. Because if someone with a two-handed sword joins your party, she is supposed to protect you. Sometimes I would vomit blood after the fight and people would surround a delicate looking maiden-sorceress who was just shocked by seeing so much blood and gore. I was always the last one to get the potion or healing. I am Tiriel the Barbarian, after all. No one would check up on me, no one would look after me. But you – you do that. Astarion, you can't even apprehend how much love there is inside you. And how much I need it."

Astarion finally makes himself move and pulls Tiriel closer. She wraps her hands around his neck.

"You remind me of a fairytale I loved as a girl. When I was beaten by my mother and when my stepfather called me a "fairy bastard," I would run to the village healer and listen to his wife telling fairy tales. There was one which always caught my attention.”

"A long time ago there was a warrior woman whose ancestors were giants. She was fierce and strong. One day she got a mission – to kill a monster. She realized the monster was indeed an enchanted prince. She broke his chains and they married. I always pictured this prince as an elf in my head. Like, he was described as someone very beautiful. It couldn't be a human! Human males are ugly. Or maybe it was my own desperate hope my elven father would come back and take me with him".

"And what is more important, you understand me. You laugh at my stupid jokes. You know how to make me feel better. I love talking to you. I never thought I would find someone I would be so comfortable with. Yes, I fell for your looks. For your sweet words. You made me feel wanted, desired. Everything I thought I wasn't. I knew you were manipulating me; it was easy to understand. But I felt good when you dragged me to the woods. I am going to live for fifteen or twenty decades more and I want to live these years with you. I don't want and don't need anyone else."

Astarion stares at Tiriel as if seeing her for the first time. As if they hadn't shared a bed for half a year. It was like she was talking about someone else. Someone he doesn't even know. How come… how come he has her? What a weird coincidence made them meet? Maybe some god was responsible after all. Heard his prayers and made that unknown elf hook up with a married human woman thirty-six years ago.

A married human woman who hated the little girl she gave birth to. Who abused Tiriel and beat her for her mere existence.

"My stepfather once lusted for me and he suppressed his desires with violence. He snatched a knife and cut my left ear off. The healer stitched it back but I have a scar left."

The girl grew up. Survived. Made her way to Baldur's Gate.

Tiriel, with her absolute lack of self-control or respect for anyone, solved most of the problems threatening to break people's bones.

"He told you "No!", I will smash your head against the wall if you don't leave him alone, you drow bitch!"

His very own knight in shining armor. Well, barbarian rags rather than actual armor, but Astarion is also far from an innocent prince.

Tiriel puts her head on his chest as if trying to hear his undead heart. They both don't move, holding each other in silence. Astarion wants to say a thousand words. How much he loves her. How she makes his undead heart ache. How he adores her – with her dark humor, easygoing nature, and bravery.

But he can't. The words are stuck in his throat; meanwhile, Tiriel keeps humming. A song of the north, of the wilderness. There is wind and cold, battles and blood. The smell of burning wood. The rage. The sorrow. And dragons.

Tiriel, the unwanted daughter of the barbarian kin, holds Astarion, and he drowns in her arms. Safety, protection, freedom, love. Such simple concepts and yet so unknown.

He doesn't want to let her go. He won't let her go unless she wants.

"Ok I am freezing and want to sleep. I will be in the tent," She pulls away, shivering. "How do you say "my love" in Sylvan?"

"Salen Aster," Astarion answers, and the words sound like a spell.

"Then see you later, Salen Aester."

He chuckles – Tiriel pronounces the words clumsily with a terrible Common accent.

"Have a good rest, my love."

Being alone is uncomfortable. So he quickly puts on clean clothes, leaving the dirty pile for the latter, and returns to the small camp they had put up. Tiriel is already under the fur blanket but knows she hasn't fallen asleep yet. She never goes to sleep without him. So while she rests, Astarion stays beside guarding her or meditating himself.

Astarion crawls beside her, and she immediately wraps herself around him, placing her redhead on his chest, sharing body warmth.

Astarion concentrates on the heartbeat. He can feel blood streaming around her body. Her short breaths. Tiriel is so alive it's enough for two of them.

"Tiriel"

"Hm?" she looks up at him, her eyes already sleepy.

"These six months we've been together are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery I endured. My worst memory lasted longer than I know you but somehow… somehow it holds the same gravity as those years of darkness. I don't even know how this is possible."

She smiles and caresses his cheek.

"Rage is louder than tears, fire is brighter than shadows. Rags are cheap but fur is paid with gold."

It seems like she wants to say something else, but she falls asleep in his arms. Astarion looks at her with adoration, trying to memorize every small detail of her face.

"Salen Aester", he whispers in her ear.

Tag List

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy

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lendeah · 4 months

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After the Weave 3.

series masterlist

Summary: Elara and Astarion go to the ball with the aim of securing support, but navigating high society comes with its own set of perils.

Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav, past Gale x OFC!Tav

Tags: Angst, Drinking to Cope, References to Depression, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Emotional Baggage, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Post-Break Up, Tav finds herself again with Astarion, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD.

Word count: 4.3k

Also on AO3

"Godlike power, perhaps I can live without, but you?

You're everything"

The memory tugs at my mind, that moment beneath the rich purple sky, when everything felt within my grasp beside him. I can still see it clearly - the way his eyes gazed at me, filled with adoration and vows of forever. But now, as I finish tightening the corset with a sharp pull, the long red ball gown hugging my curves perfectly, I realize that those were just empty promises. Lies upon lies.

The crimson silk hugs my curves beautifully, though as I walk the long halls, each step becomes a battle against the uncomfortable fabric that makes me trip repeatedly. A beautiful dress indeed, but one that brings discomfort and pain with every move. Just like Gale's love.

Astarion is waiting by the entrance, looking as disinterested as ever, his face a mask of boredom. He is dressed in a crimson and black suit that hugs his form in all the right places. I can't help but admire how the fabric accentuates his lithe frame, the way it compliments his pale skin and emphasizes the white of his curls.

As his eyes finally land on me, something changes in them. There's a flicker of surprise and admiration before he quickly masks it with his usual sneer.

"That is a nice dress, I wonder who made it. They sure are talented, for making you of all people look regal."

I roll my eyes, "I don't even know how they got all my measures right. I mean, I don't think anyone has ever measured me, to begin with."

Astarion smirks, his eyes roaming over my form with a hint of amusement."Ah, well, I do recall taking your measurements once. However, that was quite some time ago, my dear, so you may have forgotten it."

I frown, and then a flicker of a memory flashes through my mind, and I can see Astarion's skilled fingers and his concentrated expression as he took my measurements with meticulous precision.

"You shared my measurements with a seamstress to make this dress?" I ask, surprised that he went to such great lengths for our work at the grand ball.

Astarion's eyes become unreadable for a second, and then he nods. "Yes, of course. It wouldn't do for you to arrive at the ball looking anything less than perfect." His tone is laced with sarcasm, but I can sense a hint of sincerity behind his words.

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. "You never cease to surprise me, bloodsucker." I say, approaching him slowly. "Thank you for your help."

His smirk softens into a small smile and he bows slightly in response. "It was my pleasure, Lady Elara."

His voice is dripping with mock formality, and I can't help but chuckle at his antics. I gesture towards the door. "Shall we, Sir. Ancunín?"

Astarion extends his arm to me like a gentleman, and I take it gratefully, feeling strangely comforted by his touch.

Just as we are about to step into the grand carriage, he stops and turns to face me once again. "Are you absolutely certain about this? We can stay here if you'd like, especially after... the missive."

I wince to myself. I knew he would want to talk about the letter sooner or later, but I thought I had done a pretty good job avoiding the subject for the past few days. Aparently, it hadn't been enough.

"Yes, I'm sure. The sooner we get this over with, the better." I say dismissively.

He looks at me intently, his eyes searching for any signs of hesitation or doubt. Then, his expression softens as he nods in understanding. "Very well then, shall we go?"

We climb into the grand carriage, and make our way towards the palace where the ball is being held. The ride is a quiet one, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I steal subtle glances at the man in front of me. He looks mesmerizing, as always, with his white, tousled hair falling just so over his forehead, accentuating the sharp angles of his face. His crimson eyes, usually filled with mischief, now hold a hint of worry that he's trying to conceal, and I have to fight the urge to smooth the lines that have formed in his forehead.

I catch myself staring and quickly avert my gaze, focusing on the passing scenery outside the carriage window. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silvery glow on the city. Lately I feel like I'm constantly living in the night, between the walls of the Palace. I guess that is how Astarion's life has felt in the last few months, back in the shadows without the tadpole giving him immunity to the sunlight. I can't help but pity him, as the memories of his pale body basking in the morning light flash through my mind.

As we near the palace, Astarion finally breaks the silence between us. His voice is softer than before, almost hesitant.

"When was the last time you practiced the art of sorcery?" he asks, with his eyes still fixed on the window.

I feel myself freeze up at the question. It's been months since Gale left, and with him went my motivation to even touch a spellbook or scroll. Every hint of magic reminded me of him, and I couldn't bring myself to face that pain again.

"It's been a while," I admit reluctantly. "Since Gale left."

Astarion nods in understanding, but there is a hint of dissatisfaction in his expression. "That's a shame. You were good," he says firmly, finally looking at me.

I meet his gaze, feeling a mixture of gratitude and irritation. Astarion always had a way of cutting through the chaos in my mind and speaking truths that I didn't want to confront. He was right, of course. I had allowed Gale's departure to shatter not only my heart but also my connection to magic. A wave of regret washes over me as I realize how easily I had let go of something I loved so much, how easily I had forgotten myself.

"I know," I reply, my tone softer than I anticipated. "It's just... difficult. Every time I try to conjure a spell or tap into that part of myself, I can't help but think of him."

"Ah, I understand the pain of reminders all too well," he murmurs with a wry smile. "But Elara, you cannot let him, or anyone for that matter, define who you are or what you're capable of. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for."

His words stir something within me, an ember of determination that has been smoldering beneath the ashes of heartbreak. Perhaps he's right. Perhaps it's time to reclaim my magic. But not now, I tell myself, there would be time for that after we finish doing what we came here to do.

As we step out of the carriage and into the entrance of the castle, my mouth falls open. I didn't even know such extensive grounds could fit in Baldur's Gate's narrow streets. The palace, lit up by hundreds of lanterns and torches, looks like something out of a fairytale. The gardens are filled with colorful flowers and fountains, and the marble steps leading to the entrance are lined with statues of ancient gods.

Astarion catches me staring in awe and smirks. "Remarkable, isn't it? A chance to join the illustrious Duke at his grand ball is a rare privilege indeed."

"Wait, Duke? As in Duke Ravengaard? As in, Wyll's dad?"

Astarion nods, "Yes, the very same. I'm surprised you didn't know, it must've slipped my mind to tell you." But the mischief in his eyes tells me he most definitely didn't.

As we make our way into the grand ballroom, I find out the grand hall is just as breathtaking as the exterior. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a warm golden glow on everything below. People dressed in extravagant gowns and suits dance to music played by musicians in one corner of the room. As Astarion and I enter the room, all eyes turn towards us with a flurry of emotion. Some gaze at us with curious intrigue, while others openly display their desire. But the dominant reaction is one of pure fear, evident in the way they shrink back and avoid eye contact.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that have resurfaced at the sight of so many eyes on us. Astarion must sense this, because he takes my hand on his cold one and squeezes it reassuringly.

"Relax," he whispers with a smile. "Just be your usual 'Savior of Baldur's Gate' self and you will be more than fine."

As we reach the ballroom, I can see it is filled with high-ranking officials, nobles and other powerful figures, all dressed in their finest attire. I try to remember the individuals Astarion had taught me about, but there are too many and the names and occupations are mixing in my brain. In a sea of unfamiliar faces, one stands out amongst the rest. Duke Ravengard approaches us, with a welcoming smile dancing on his lips. He reminds me so much of Wyll that a wave of emotions hit me like a punch to the gut.

Before I can even say anything, Astarion steps forward and greets the man with a respectful bow. "Your Grace," he says smoothly, "allow me to introduce the Savior of Baldur's Gate. Rumor has it, she once saved you from certain death in the not-so-distant past."

I feel my cheeks heat up at the remark. The Duke's eyes widen in recognition before a warm smile forms on his lips.

"Ah, Elara. What an honor to see you again," he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I've heard tales of your brave deeds for our city, and we are all in your debt."

I manage to give him a small smile and a nod.

"It was a pleasure, sir."

He chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Modesty becomes you, my dear." He says with a smile. A flicker of sadness appeared in his eyes as he asked "Have you happened upon any news of my son? I recall that the two of you were once close friends."

My heart sinks at the mention of Wyll. I haven't heard from him since he left for the Avernus with Karlac, but seeing how important Duke Ravengard is to him, I decide to be honest.

"I'm afraid I haven't heard from Wyll in quite some time."

The Duke's expression falls slightly but he nods understandingly. "I see. Well, if you do happen to come across him in your travels, please let him know that his father misses him dearly."

"I will," I promise solemnly.

He pauses for a second, and then adds "But let us not dwell on the past tonight. This is a night of celebration and joy!"

As the Duke leads us further into the ballroom, Astarion walks beside me, his eyes flickering with a mix of amusement and mischief. "Well, well, Lady Elara," he whispers. "How greedy you are, relishing in all the glory"

I roll my eyes at his teasing remark but can't help but feel a sense of pride bubbling within me. Standing in the midst of power and privilege, I can't help but feel that maybe I do deserve this recognition.

As we continue to mingle among the crowd, a smooth voice catches my attention. I turn to see a blonde elf woman approaching us, drink in hand.

"Ah, Astarion, dearest," she says with a charming smile as she reaches us. "What a pleasure to meet you again."

Astarion smiles back at her and gives her a slight bow. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Shaphyra."

I remember now. Her name is Lady Shaphyra Boldsong, daughter of one of the most influential elven families in Baldur's Gate. And she and Astarion seem to know each other quite well, by the looks of it.

"I see you have brought a lovely companion with you," she says, turning her gaze towards me. "The Savior of Baldur's Gate, no less. And she is a half-elf! What a delightful surprise."

I feel my cheeks flush once again as I am introduced for the second time tonight. But Lady Saphyra doesn't seem to mind as she bows towards me.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she says warmly.

I bow back. "Likewise, Lady Saphyra."

She turns back to Astarion, with a sly smile on her lips. "I couldn't have imagined you keeping such remarkable company. Is she also lending a hand in funding the hospital?"

I tilt my head and raise a questioning eyebrow in Astarion's direction, but he remains unfazed. As if sensing that it's now my turn to take the lead, I clear my throat and confidently interject into the conversation, "Actually, Lady Saphyra, I have been heavily involved in the fundraising efforts for the hospital. It's a cause close to my heart, after the catastrophe we lived."

Lady Saphyra's expression changes, her eyes widening in surprise. "How wonderful! I must say, you are quite the impressive lady, Elara."

Astarion gives me a small nod of approval before turning back to Lady Saphyra. "Indubitably, my dear, she is a remarkable creature indeed. I daresay, any assistance we can offer in tending to these unfortunate young ones is most welcome. Even more if the help comes from someone as bewitching as yourself."

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes at Astarion's practiced flattery, his smooth words and charming smile all too familiar to me by now. However, Lady Saphyra appears taken with his act, as she giggles and sips her drink before responding, "You are quite the charmer, Astarion. But I am glad to hear that you both are involved in such a noble cause. I may consider helping myself, if you treat me to a dance."

He takes her delicate hand in his and guides her gracefully towards the dance floor, their movements fluid and elegant as they join the other couples swaying to the music.

I watch them go with a mixture of amusement and relief that everything is going as intended. The rest of the night unfolds with a whirlwind of introductions and conversations. Astarion seems to know every person in the place, with most of them regarding Astarion with respect. I find myself seamlessly switching between engaging in political discussions with influential figures and gracefully gliding across the ballroom floor in elegant dances, all of this while convincing the nobles to join our very worthy cause. Just as Astarion had predicted, my presence was enough to sway many into following through with his plans.

At some point during the evening, we are approached by a group of people. Among them is who I recognize as Sir. Paddock, a human man in his sixties with silver hair and piercing green eyes. He is one of the most influential magistrates in the city, and also someone Astarion explicitly told me to beware of.

"Sir. Ancunín," he greets us with a bow before turning to me with a charming smile. "And Lady Ella, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

I give him a polite smile despite him getting my name wrong.

"You know, I didn't imagine the Savior of Baldur's Gate to be so appealing to the eye," he says with a raised eyebrow and lowers his eyes down my chest just enough to make me uncomfortable.

"Thank you for your compliment, Sir Paddock," I say stiffly.

He chuckles as if he's amused by my reaction before turning back to Astarion.

"So tell me," he says in a lowered voice, "what brings such extraordinary person here tonight in the arm of a man of the night, of all people?"

My jaw tightens at his words and I feel Astarion tense beside me. I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

Astarion flashes his signature smirk, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Ah, Sir Paddock, always the observant one," he says with a playful tone.

"Actually, Mr. Ancunín is doing a lot of important work for the betterment of this city," I say firmly.

The man just raises an eyebrow skeptically. "And do these 'important' labors involve the draining of a certain vital liquid?" he asks with a sly smile.

The people around us shift uncomfortably at his words, although I can hear some chuckles.

I stand my ground, not allowing his insinuation to rattle me. "No, they do not".

Astarion leans in, his smile never wavering."Ah, Sir Paddock, you wound me with your choice of words," he replies smoothly. "But as for Lady Elara's presence here tonight, she graces us with her company as both a hero and a benefactor to the hospital fund. We are fortunate to have her support."

Sir Paddock's smile falters, but he quickly regains his composure."A hero and a benefactor? Impressive indeed." He glances between us, a glint of suspicion in his eyes."Well then, I apologize for my bluntness. It's just that Astarion here has quite a reputation in the city."

"I assure you, Sir Paddock, that Astarion is a changed man now," I say confidently, placing a hand on Astarion's arm for emphasis.

Sir Paddock studies us for a moment.

"You seem like an accomplished and respectable young woman," the man continues, ignoring my previous statement. "You don't need to waste your potential with... this thing."

His words strike a nerve within me and before I know it, I am speaking without thinking. "Mr. Ancunín may have a past that some frown upon, but he has proven himself time and time again as a valuable asset to this city," I retort "he is the most caring, ambitious, hard working and loyal person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. And none of you would be here if it wasn't for his labors." I finish, my voice quivering with rage.

The surrounding crowd falls into a heavy silence, their eyes darting between the three of us. Astarion himself wears a stunned expression, his typically composed demeanor momentarily cracked.

But the man just chuckles condescendingly. "Oh dear, it seems like you have quite the temper on you," he says with amusement. "But mark my words, Miss Ella. Associating yourself with someone like that will only bring you down in the eyes of this society."

My fists clench at my sides as fury courses through me. How dare he speak about him like this? Despite all of Astarion's faults and past mistakes, he has been nothing but good to me and the city. Hells, he is keeping 7000 spawn alive as we are talking!

Before I can respond, Astarion steps forward "Ah, Sir Paddock, always one to jump to the most scandalous conclusions. I assure you, Lady Elara and I are engaged in far more noble pursuits than you could ever dream of."

I shoot Astarion a grateful smile. Sir Paddock's eyes narrow as he studies Astarion. "Well, well, the rogue with a heart of gold. You've certainly managed to charm your way into the hearts of Baldur's Gate's elite, haven't you?"

Astarion smirks and bows slightly. "Charm is my specialty, dear sir. It seems even the most discerning individuals can recognize true talent when they see it."

Suppressing a laugh, I instead give his arm a tight squeeze in appreciation for his backhanded compliment.

"And now, as lovely as it has been talking with you, I believe I owe this beautiful woman a dance, so if you'll excuse us" Astarion says smoothly, extending his hand towards me.

Sir Paddock studies us for a moment "Oh, of course," he says with a forced grin. "I wouldn't want to keep you from your dance."

I glance at Sir Paddock, a smug smile gracing my lips, before placing my hand in Astarion's. With a bow, the vampire leads me away from the group, towards the dance floor. As we glide across the dance floor, the tension from our encounter with Sir Paddock slowly dissipates. The music envelops us, its melodic notes weaving through the air as if casting a spell of tranquility upon the room. I can feel his eyes on me while we dance, his hand resting gently on the small of my back, guiding me with effortless grace. I try to push the earlier confrontation out of my mind and focus on our mission, but I can't help but feel guilty for losing my temper.

"I'm sorry," I say sincerely, breaking the silence between us. "I overstepped and almost blew our plan."

"You handled Sir Paddock admirably," Astarion whispers in my ear, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and mischief. "You have quite the fiery spirit, my lady."

I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks at his words, my heart swelling with a warmth that I hadn't anticipated, "Thank you, Sir Ancunín."

For a moment, I forget about the tensions of the evening and lose myself in the rhythm of the dance.

As we sway together amidst the sea of elegant couples, Astarion leans in closer, his voice barely audible over the music. My back shivers at the closeness to his body, the feeling of his cold fingers grazing my open back.

"My dear Elara," he begins, his breath tickling my ear, "Your strength and resilience have always been a source of envy for me. But there is something I find ever more admirable from you."

"And what is it that you find so admirable?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Astarion pulls back slightly, his gaze fixed on mine. "It is your unwavering belief in the goodness of others, even in the face of their doubts and prejudices."

A small smile tugs at my lips as I listen to Astarion's words. His observation warms my heart.

"I'm not sure if that is entirely true," I say. "I have made plenty of mistakes believing others in my life."

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he tightens his grip on my waist."Don't we all?" Astarion replies. "But I've seen you in action, Elara. You have a way of bringing out the best in people, even when they don't see it themselves."

I swallow hard, his words resonating deeply within me. Astarion's observations of my character always manage to surprise me, as if he can see into the depths of my soul. For so long after Gale left, I had felt lost and disconnected from the world, but his presence back in my life had brought about a newfound clarity, a sense of purpose.

"Thank you," I say softly.

As the music begins to fade into another song, Astarion pulls me closer, his grip on my waist firm yet gentle. The room around us seems to blur into insignificance as our eyes lock, a silent understanding passing between us.

"Can I ask what Gale's letter said?" He says, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

I tense visibly at the mention of the piece of parchment, tripping on my own feet. But Astarion quickly catches me before I fall.

"I-I don't know," I stutter, trying to regain my composure.

Astarion's eyes narrow slightly. "You don't know? Did you not read it?"

I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. How much should I tell him? In the short time we've been living together, Astarion has already opened himself to me in more ways than one. Yet, I can't shake the feeling of shame that washes over me at the reminder of the words written in ink.

"He said that he has started crafting Karsus' Crown" I blurt out.

Astarion raises an eyebrow, clearly picking up on my discomfort. "And that's it?"

I give a slow, resigned shake of my head. "He also said that it's over, that I should forget him and move on with my life." I say, my voice heavy with disappointment, "Oh, and of course, he made sure to mention that he's not coming back, which I guess was to be expected at this point." I laugh bitterly.

Astarion's expression turns serious at my words. "I'm sorry, Elara," he says quietly. "I know how much Gale meant to you."

"It's fine," I say with a shrug, trying to brush off the sadness that threatens to consume me. "I've had plenty of time to come to terms with it."

Astarion studies me for a moment before speaking again. "How do you feel about it?"

His question lingered in my mind. How did I feel about it?

"I...I don't know," I finally answer truthfully. "Part of me is sad, of course. But another part of me is relieved."

Astarion looks at me curiously, and I can tell he wants me to elaborate. So I take a deep breath and continue.

"I've been holding onto this hope that maybe one day we would get back together. For so many months, I really hoped he would give up his power for me," I say, feeling slightly embarrassed at my admission. "But now I can finally let go of that hope and move on with my life."

A small smile appears on Astarion's face and he nods in understanding. "I think that's for the best," he says softly.

I nod in agreement, grateful for his support and understanding. We continue dancing in silence for a few moments before Astarion speaks up again.

"You know, dear," he begins hesitantly. "He on no account ever deserved you."

I glance up at Astarion, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. I'm about to ask him what he means by that, but before I can even part my lips, a blood-curdling scream shatters the stillness of the room. In an instant, Astarion's hand is clasped around mine and he is pulling me towards the source of the cry. The corner is filled with a sea of nobles, their faces contorted with fear and shock. We push our way through the crowd, struggling against the tide until we finally reach the head of the gathering. And there, lying on the floor in a pool of crimson, is Duke Ravengard. And his lifeless body bears two deep puncture wounds decorating his neck.

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