#curly-haired-disaster | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mythicalmaven · 3 months ago

Note

Helloooo love, could I have nr 1, 13, 23(reader) and 28 with Daniel ricciardo?🤍 so needy for him

Forbidden - Daniel Ricciardo (requested)

As requested: a Daniel Ricciardo fanfic with a few prompts from the list! It's my first Ricciardo fanfic, so I hope I wrote it like you hoped lol :) It turned out a little longer than I expected, but I honestly like how it turned out! (I didn't proofread it, so excuse any mistakes lol)

masterlist | promptlist ↳pairing: daniel ricciardo x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 7,7K ↳prompts used: 1 - 'Use my thigh", 13 - "You're fucking soaked". 23 - "I..Uh.." - "I have never done this before" & 28 "We shouldn't do this" ↳warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, age gap (8 years), kissing, alcohol, drunk, explicit sexual content, 18+ (MDNI!), jealousy, sexual tension ↳summary: In which it's 2017 and Max Verstappen's twin sister gets a little too involved with her brothers teammate

You honestly had no idea how you'd come up with the not-so-clever idea of getting wasted in a Monaco nightclub, but right now, you couldn’t care less. The music thumped through the room, blending with the haze of alcohol and dim, colorful lights, and a certain curly-haired Australian who had slipped off to the bar for another drink lingered in your mind.

As the beat softened into something deeper, sultrier, you found yourself moving with Carlos once more. His hands rested casually on your hips, his thumbs brushing over the fabric of your dress as you swayed together. Ever since your twin, Max, joined the Formula 1 grid, Carlos had become one of your closest friends.

Carlos leaned in, his lips close to your ear, his voice a low murmur against the music. "So… when are you finally gonna hook up with Danny?"

You scoffed, playfully swatting the back of his head. “Oh, shut up, will you?”

Carlos only grinned, knowing exactly how you felt about Daniel. He'd been trying to push you toward him for ages, but as always, you deflected. “I don’t think Max would be thrilled if I hooked up with his teammate,” you replied, though a part of you knew that wasn’t the real reason you’d been holding back.

Carlos shrugged with a smirk. “Did you forget how convinced Max was that we were hooking up back at Toro Rosso? He didn’t seem too bothered by that idea, did he?”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling as you swayed in rhythm with him, your fingers linking behind his neck. “Yeah, vividly. But that was different…” You let out a laugh, trying to keep your tone casual. “For one, our age gap was a lot smaller than Daniel and mine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “You’re 20, who cares? Daniel’s 28—it’s not like he’s ancient.”

Sighing, you dropped your forehead against Carlos’s shoulder. “Besides, even if he would consider hooking up with me, he’d probably be disappointed. I’ve never… well, you know. I’ve only gone as far as giving a guy a blowie in a club bathroom, and even that was a drunken disaster. Somehow, I doubt a 28-year-old is looking for a hookup with a 20-year-old virgin.”

Carlos chuckled under his breath, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “You're really that blind, aren't you? The guy is absolutely head over heels for you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Carlos shifted his grip, spinning you around so your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist to guide your movements. To anyone watching, it looked like a slow grind, intimate and close, even though he left enough space to keep things comfortable.

He steered you both around the dance floor, inching you closer to the bar. “Look at him,” Carlos murmured in your ear, lifting a hand to tilt your chin ever so slightly. “See for yourself.”

Your gaze landed on Daniel, and your breath caught in your throat. There he was, leaning against the bar, drink in hand, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. His jaw was tight, his lips set in a straight line as he took in every shift of your body against Carlos’s, his gaze dark, brooding, and unmistakably heated. The way his eyes drifted, tracing the curve of your legs, lingering on your hips as they moved, made your heart race. He wasn’t just watching; he was studying, every look brimming with tension and frustration.

Carlos’s laughter hummed against your back, pulling you out of your trance. “The guy’s been staring daggers at me since the second we started dancing.”

“No way,” you murmured, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady, even though your pulse hammered in your ears. “He’s just… looking. Nothing more.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he leaned down to murmur against your ear, “Who are you trying to convince? Me… or yourself?”

“Fuck,” you huffed, feeling your cheeks flush under Daniel’s gaze, heat spreading through you in a way that felt as dangerous as it was thrilling. “I need more alcohol.”

⁺⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺ ⋆⁺

Hours and too many drinks later, you’d long since shed your usual shyness, finding a brazen confidence in the music, the crowd, and the glimmer of alcohol-fueled ease in every movement. The world felt hazy but thrilling, every pulse of the bass reverberating through you as you let yourself sink into the beat.

Carlos watched your transformation, amused at how you threw back shots and laughed a little louder than before. At one point, you looked back at him over your shoulder, eyes bright and mischievous, completely oblivious to the intensity with which a certain Australian had been watching you both.

With a chuckle and a playful push, Carlos nudged you forward, aiming you right in Daniel’s direction. “Go on, dance with him already,” he teased, his smirk saying he knew exactly what he was doing.

You stumbled into Daniel, feeling his hand steady you, his fingers lingering just a second too long as you regained your balance. “Well, fancy seeing you here, Ricciardo,” you quipped, your voice carrying an edge of flirtation that you didn’t usually dare with him.

Daniel’s lips curled into that easy, charming smile, his fingers still on your waist. “Fancy that. You’re looking a little… spirited tonight,” he replied, his eyes raking over you with a mixture of amusement and something darker, something almost hungry that you couldn’t miss, even in your haze. He was trying to play it off, keep things casual, but his gaze lingered just a bit too long, drawn to the curve of your hips, the dip of your collarbone, and the dress that had ridden up just enough to reveal more of your thigh.

“Oh yeah?” you leaned in close, fingers grazing up his arm, catching the way his eyes followed every movement. “What do you mean, ‘spirited?’” You were close enough to catch the hint of his cologne, something warm and subtly spicy, like he was, and it made you feel just a little bolder.

Daniel chuckled, but his fingers tightened slightly at your waist as if grounding himself. “Just saying,” he replied, “I don’t usually see you dancing like that.” His eyes sparkled with a mix of fondness and something a little more conflicted. He was trying so hard to keep things cool, but you could tell he was affected. “Especially with Carlos. Didn’t know he was your type.”

You laughed, moving your body a little closer to his, playfully ignoring the tension that brewed between you. “Carlos? Nah. He’s more like… a dance partner for the night. Besides,” you added, looking up at him through your lashes, “I think my type is just a little taller… curly hair.. and definitely Australian.”

A flicker of something like surprise crossed his face, his eyes briefly widening before he collected himself. He swallowed, looking away, almost as if to compose himself. “Is that so?” he murmured, his fingers curling at your waist, his voice low.

Just then, the music changed to something slower, a sensual rhythm that had you pressing a little closer against him. Daniel’s hands slipped to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his heartbeat thrumming fast under your hands as you settled into a rhythm together. You let your body sway, your hips pressing against him as his hands guided you, holding you steady and closer than he should.

“Gotta stop moving like that,” he mumbled, his voice tight, a strained note of amusement as he tried to mask how breathless he sounded.

You looked up at him with a smirk. “Why?” you asked, feigning innocence, though the mischievous gleam in your eyes told him you knew exactly what you were doing.

He swallowed, his gaze darkening as his grip on your hips tightened, pulling you flush against him. The movement brought you closer than before, and in that instant, you felt him—hard, pressing against you through his jeans, undeniable and unrestrained. A thrill shot through you as your eyes met his, your gaze drifting downward for a fleeting second, then back up to find his expression transformed, conflicted and charged. His voice was rough, edged with that undeniable tension. “You know very well why,” he murmured, his tone thick with barely restrained desire and frustration, his fingers gripping your waist as if to hold himself back.

Your lips parted in surprise, but you didn't move away. Instead, you let a slow smile spread across your face, your body swaying against him just enough to deepen his predicament. Daniel’s jaw clenched, his gaze darting down to where your bodies pressed together, his expression shifting between longing and resistance, the internal battle clear as he tried to keep himself grounded, even as you blurred every boundary between you.

You felt the heat radiating off him, the subtle hitch in his breathing, the way his fingers trembled slightly against your waist.

⁺⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺ ⋆⁺

Hours later, you stumbled out of the bathroom, trying to make your way back to the dance floor but feeling far less coordinated than before. The world tilted slightly as you bumped into a table, a stray chair, and even a few club-goers who offered you amused or annoyed glances.

“Alright, I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night, darling,” came a familiar voice from behind, warm and steady. Before you could turn, a hand wrapped around your upper arm, steadying you, and the familiar scent of Daniel surrounded you, grounding you.

You turned to him with an exaggerated pout, his arm still holding you up. “I… I’m definitely… not,” you managed, words slightly slurred as you tried to shake off his grip, failing miserably. He chuckled softly, clearly amused.

Daniel’s gaze softened, his eyes roaming over you with a mix of tenderness and barely concealed desire. Your dress had shifted, one strap sliding off your shoulder, the hem hitching up to reveal more skin than you intended. He took in the sight, pausing for just a moment too long before swallowing hard and composing himself.

“Let’s get you sorted out here,” he murmured, reaching to fix your dress. His fingers brushed over your shoulder, grazing your skin, and he swallowed hard, the gentle touches sending a thrill through you. His hands moved lower, trying to straighten the hem, and his fingers brushed over the curve of your thigh, a touch that made you let out a soft, involuntary whimper. His eyes darkened, and he hesitated, looking like he wanted to pull away but unable to tear himself away from the way you looked at him.

“Mm… feels nice,” you murmured, leaning into his touch, your gaze half-lidded as you looked up at him, lips parted slightly. You noticed how he tensed, his jaw clenched, clearly struggling to resist.

“Come on,” he said, clearing his throat, his voice a little rough. “Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

He led you through the club, supporting you with one arm wrapped securely around you. As you stumbled along, your hand brushed over his chest, lingering a little longer than necessary, your fingers tracing small patterns as you walked. He glanced down, swallowing, his throat bobbing as he tried to keep his focus. Along the way, you nearly collided with Max, who took one look at you and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm bringing your sister back to the hotel," Daniel explained, nodding toward you with a hint of amusement. "She’s absolutely hammered."

Max smirked, his eyes flicking between you and Daniel. "You sure? I can take her back if you’d rather stay. I know she can’t hold her liquor."

“Hey!” you interjected, stumbling slightly as you tried to regain your balance, waving off your brother with a slurred, “I-Ik ben niet eens d-dronken…” (I’m not even drunk). You gave him a half-hearted glare, rolling your eyes in exaggerated annoyance.

Daniel glanced at Max with a small, amused shake of his head. “I have no clue what she just said, but don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he reassured him. “I was planning to head home anyway, and besides,” he added with a smile, “our apartments are in the same building anyway, so it's no hassle”

Max nodded, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder before turning back to Daniel. "Alright, mate. Get her home safe."

With that, Max watched as Daniel guided you gently but firmly toward the exit, his grip steadying you as you leaned against him, too tipsy to resist.

When you reached the curb, he helped you into a cab, sliding in beside you. You leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder, your hand slipping to rest on his thigh, your fingers drifting ever so slightly higher, sending a rush of heat through him.

“You’re drunk,” he murmured, his voice low and strained, trying to keep his breathing even.

You looked up at him with a playful, tipsy grin, fingers tracing the fabric of his jeans. “So?”

He bit his lip, fighting a losing battle against his own desires, his hand covering yours to stop its teasing ascent. He’d never seen you this forward, this flirtatious, and though it thrilled him, it terrified him all the same. The line between you had always been thin, but tonight, with every touch, every brush of your skin against his, you were slowly erasing it.

When you arrived at the apartment building, you had began starting to sober up a tiny little bit. Still wasted obviously, but it seems as if you had a little bit more control over your own actions.

As you fumbled through your purse, your expression shifted from confidence to frustration as you realized your keys weren’t there.

“I… I had them,” you muttered, searching again, only for the reality to settle in. “I must’ve left them with Carlos or Max.”

You looked up at Daniel with a mischievous glint in your eyes, swaying slightly on your feet. “Guess that means I’m staying with you?”

Daniel hesitated, his resolve weakening as he searched your face, taking in the way your lips quirked in that daring, flirtatious smile. He was already in too deep, the familiar ache in his chest too hard to ignore. After a moment, he let out a resigned sigh, offering a small, reluctant smile as he nodded.

“Yeah, alright,” he said softly, his hand brushing over your back as he guided you inside. “But you’ve gotta promise me you’ll go straight to bed.”

You leaned in, closer than necessary, your breath warm against his cheek. “We’ll see about that,” you murmured playfully, sending one last spark of heat through him as he led you toward his apartment, both of you caught in a delicate balance of desire, restraint, and the thrill of the unspoken between you.

⁺⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺ ⋆⁺

Daniel led you to his kitchen, pulling out a stool by the bar, gesturing for you to sit. But you had other ideas. Following him over to the sink, you leaned back against the counter, lifting yourself up onto it. Your dress slid up as you settled, exposing nearly everything to anyone watching.

Daniel turned off the tap, glass in hand, and was about to pass it to you when he caught sight of you. His gaze trailed over your bare thighs, and his breath hitched, eyes widening as he muttered, “Fuck.” His eyes lingered, and he dared to glance lower, noticing the smallest glimpse of black lace between your slightly parted legs.

Swallowing hard, he gripped the counter edge, his knuckles whitening as he fought the overwhelming urge to close the distance between you, his lips already tingling with the desire to claim yours. Forcing himself to look away, he pressed the glass into your hand, his voice husky and tight. “Drink this. It'll help,” he murmured, barely able to keep his composure. “I’ll… I’ll go grab a shirt for you. So you don’t have to sleep in that dress.”

You downed the water in one swift gulp, letting your gaze drift back to him. The proximity hit you both, close enough for you to see the tension in his jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. But what captured your attention most was the unmistakable bulge in his jeans, straining against the fabric, betraying the restraint he tried so hard to maintain.

A slow smirk crept across your lips as you reached out, letting your fingers graze his arm, traveling in a slow, tantalizing path up to his shoulder, then down his chest, inching ever closer to his belt. But before you could reach it, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist firmly. “We… we shouldn’t do this,” he muttered, voice low and rough as he gently pushed your hand away, though his touch lingered just a second too long, his resolve wavering.

Undeterred, you hopped down from the counter, stepping forward until there was barely any space left between you. Confidence you hadn’t realized you possessed surged through you, and you reached out, cupping him through his jeans. He let out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, his resolve crumbling under the pressure of your touch.

Bringing your lips close to his ear, you whispered, your voice a hushed, sultry tease, “That’s what you say… but your body’s telling me something else entirely.”

⁺⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺ ⋆⁺

Daniel forced himself to gather every shred of self-control he could muster, putting a few steps of distance between you before he turned on his heel, heading to his bedroom to grab a shirt from the closet. His mind raced as he moved. He wanted you—God, he wanted you more than anything—but he knew you were drunk, teetering on that edge where even a soft touch or glance was hazy with the thrill of it all. And as much as he ached to feel your lips on his, to let every longing he’d harbored for so long finally spill over, he didn’t want to take advantage of your current state.

Yet, you were making it damn near impossible to keep his composure. Every touch, every glance, every whisper made his restraint crumble bit by bit, leaving him clinging to the last threads of resolve.

When he made his way to the bathroom with the shirt in hand, he stopped in the doorway, noticing you struggling with the zipper of your dress, your back turned to him. The zipper was halfway down, leaving a tantalizing glimpse of your bare skin, and his heart pounded harder, fighting between propriety and desire.

“Danny, can you help me with the zipper, please?” Your voice was soft, but the note of longing was unmistakable, each word sparking something primal within him.

He hesitated, but before he could stop himself, he stepped forward, leaving the shirt on the sink, and positioned himself behind you. His fingers brushed your skin as he reached for the zipper, feeling the warmth radiating off you. You shivered at his touch, a soft, involuntary whimper escaping your lips that sent a jolt through him. He dragged the zipper down slowly, his fingers grazing your skin, unable to resist lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

Once the zipper was down, you slipped the straps off your shoulders, the dress falling effortlessly down your frame, pooling at your feet. Daniel’s breath caught in his throat as he took you in, standing before him in nothing but your black lace lingerie. He clenched his jaw, feeling a wave of heat course through him, the last of his rationality slipping as his eyes traced over every curve, every inch of you laid bare.

You turned to face him, the look in your eyes a mixture of vulnerability and desire, a silent plea that tugged at the very core of him. Reaching up, you let your fingers graze the stubble on his jaw, caressing his cheek as you held his gaze. “Kiss me, Daniel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, a soft, desperate invitation.

It was all he needed. His restraint finally shattered, and he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat. His hand cupped your cheek, fingers threading through your hair as he captured your lips in a kiss that was fierce, urgent, filled with all the pent-up emotion and longing he’d been holding back. You melted into him, pressing closer, every brush of his lips igniting sparks that spread through your body.

His hands slid down to the small of your back, then lower, gripping your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly, setting you onto the countertop of the bathroom sink. He stepped between your legs, his body pressing firmly against yours, grounding you in the heat and solidity of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The slight tug on his hair drew a low, guttural moan from him, his chest heaving as he leaned into you, lost in the feel of you against him.

His hands roamed over your body, sliding along your curves, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You gasped against his mouth, a sound that turned into a soft moan, each note pushing him closer to the edge of his composure. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips, exploring, tasting, savoring every second. You could taste the hint of whiskey on his lips, warm and heady, mingling with his natural, intoxicating flavor. Every brush of his tongue against yours sent a surge of heat pooling between your legs, each movement building the need that pulsed through you.

Daniel pulled you closer, his grip tightening as you felt his hardness pressing against you, undeniable, unmistakable. The sensation made you dizzy, your entire body responding to him, the ache between your thighs intensifying as you instinctively rocked your hips against him. His breath hitched, and he let out a soft, unrestrained groan, his head dipping to press heated, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down to the sensitive spot behind your ear. His lips left a trail of warmth, each kiss setting your skin alight, making you ache for more.

“Daniel,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper, breathless as you held him closer, “I need… I…”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with a barely contained fire. “Use my thigh, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, encouraging you, his words laced with both restraint and indulgence. The suggestion was almost too much, the heat in his eyes spurring you on, each word sending another pulse of arousal through you.

You didn’t hesitate, shifting your hips to grind against his thigh, a soft moan slipping from your lips as you felt the friction, your panties already damp against his jeans. Daniel’s hands gripped your waist, guiding you, his own breath coming faster as he watched, the sight of you losing yourself in the pleasure unraveling him bit by bit.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough as he pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands urging you to move, encouraging every motion. “Been wanting this… wanting you… for so damn long.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as he spoke, his voice shaky, every word spilling out in a way that only fueled the fire between you.

“Seeing you with Carlos tonight,” he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear, “it drove me crazy. Couldn’t stand it. I wanted to kill him for touching you” He paused, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his gaze raw, vulnerable, every wall he’d built around himself now shattered. “I’ve wanted you like this… needed you like this… for so long.”

Every word, every touch, every heated gaze pushed you further, his encouragement spurring you on as you moved against him, feeling the delicious friction, the warmth spreading through you as you both succumbed to the intoxicating pull of each other.

Daniel’s breathing grew ragged as he watched you move against his thigh, each roll of your hips sending a wave of heat through him. The way you looked at him, with that mixture of need and adoration, was undoing him in the best possible way.

Your breathing came in shallow, needy gasps as you looked up at him, eyes heavy with desire. “God, Daniel… you have no idea how good you look right now,” you murmured, your voice thick with arousal.

Your soft moans and whispered praises only fueled him more, each one pushing him to explore, to give you everything you were craving. His gaze darkening even more as he captured your lips in a searing kiss, pouring every ounce of pent-up desire and affection into it.

Without breaking the kiss, he slid you back a little on the counter, his hands gripping your hips firmly. You gasped as his fingers traced the edge of your panties, his touch light but electrifying, and he paused, his gaze meeting yours as if asking for permission.

You gave a small nod, your breath catching as his hand slipped beneath the lace, his fingers brushing over you, his touch igniting every nerve ending. His breath hitched when he felt just how wet you were, a low groan escaping his lips as he murmured, “God, you’re soaked.”

The words sent a thrill through you, making you arch into his touch, craving more. His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, exploring and teasing, drawing out your reactions, each moan and gasp fueling his own desire “The way you make me feel… God, it’s like you know exactly what I need.”

Your words lit a fire in him, a spark that deepened the hunger in his gaze as he pulled you closer. His lips curved into a smirk, fingers dipping lower as he murmured, “Yeah? I think I could get used to hearing that.”

He watched you intently, captivated by every expression, every sound that escaped your lips as he continued, building the tension higher with each movement.

You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as his fingers moved with perfect rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He whispered soft words of encouragement, his voice low and full of affection. “That’s it, love… you’re doing so well. Let go for me,” he murmured, his tone both comforting and enticing.

And then, as his touch pushed you over the edge, a wave of pure ecstasy washed over you, and you cried out his name, your body shuddering as he held you through it, his gaze never leaving yours.

Once you came down from your high, your hand started making their way to Daniel's jeans, intending to return the favor, yet your movements where halted once again by his fingers around your wrist "I won't be able to hold back if you continue" he mumbled, his lips pressing soft kisses against the skin of your neck.

"Maybe that's the point" you whispered seductively.

He shook his head "As much as I would love to, I'm not sleeping with you while you're drunk" he whispered as he pressed one last kiss against your cheek, before he pulled away, grabbing the shirt that was still on the sink with his free hand, assisting you to pull it over your head "We'll talk about it tomorrow, and then we'll see"

As if the post orgasm haze started to kick in, you felt yourself getting tired, giving yourself over to the Australian driver as he carefully lifted you off of the sink and carried you over to his bedroom, placing you down onto it.

He was intending to get up and sleep on the couch, just in case you wouldn't remember things tomorrow, or worse, remember it, but regretting things. But the soft plea that left your lips stopped him in his tracks "Please, stay with me?"

It was as if his legs moved on their own accord, slipping into the bed next to you, feeling you crawl into his arms, your head resting on his chest. Once he noticed you were sound asleep, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and send Max a quick text:

Daniel: Your sister is sound asleep btw, she's crashing here, since she apparently forgot her keys or something.

Max: Figured as much indeed, Carlos came over and handed me her keys, said she forgot to take them before she left. Max: Thanks for letting me know, I'll torture her tomorrow about her headache ;)

⁺⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺ ⋆⁺

As the soft morning light filtered through the curtains, you stirred, feeling the gentle warmth touch your skin as you blinked awake. It took a moment to piece things together, the room unfamiliar, the quiet hum of an unfamiliar space settling around you. When realization dawned, it hit all at once. This wasn’t your apartment—this was Daniel’s.

Your eyes widened, and you scanned the room, momentarily panicked. But the bed beside you was empty, the sheets cool to the touch, which brought a small wave of relief. Sitting up slowly, you took a breath, glancing down to see yourself dressed in one of Daniel’s shirts. The soft fabric brushed your skin, and you realized, with a sudden blush, that you were only in his shirt and your lingerie.

Heart pounding, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, trying to clear the fog of last night’s hazy memories. The details were elusive, flashes of warmth, laughter, and maybe… something more. You felt oddly refreshed, but the lack of clarity gnawed at you. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to find him, needing some answers.

Moving carefully down the hallway, you made your way to the bathroom, hoping to splash some water on your face, collect yourself before facing him. You twisted the doorknob, assuming the room would be empty. Instead, steam filled the space, and you froze, the faint outline of a figure behind the frosted shower door capturing your attention.

Your gaze locked on the silhouette, recognizing Daniel immediately—the shape of his shoulders, the familiar line of his back. A rush of heat flooded through you, your mind replaying a rush of emotions from last night, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, trying to banish the sudden surge of desire. You knew you should turn around, slip out quietly, but you were rooted to the spot, utterly transfixed.

Before you could retreat, Daniel turned off the shower, reaching for a towel and wrapping it low around his waist before stepping out. His gaze landed on you, his mouth curving into a smirk, droplets still trailing down his chest and abs. His dark hair was wet, small drops sliding from his curls, and the steam radiated off his skin, casting him in a hazy glow.

“Well, good morning to you too,” he said, his voice a rich, low rumble, his signature smirk making your pulse race. “If you wanted to see me naked this bad, all you had to do was ask. No need to sneak up on me.” His tone was teasing, though his gaze held a hint of something deeper, something almost daring you to respond.

Your cheeks flushed, and you raised your hands to cover your face. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” you stammered, feeling a mix of embarrassment and that same lingering heat from last night.

You heard him chuckle softly, and when you dared to peek through your fingers, he’d already dried off and slipped into a shirt and a pair of boxers. He stepped closer, gently pulling your hands away from your face, his expression softened, a trace of warmth in his morning-rough voice. “No need to be so shy, darling,” he murmured, the words filled with a quiet affection that sent a shiver down your spine.

You glanced at him, unable to ignore how close he was, feeling both relieved and oddly disappointed that he was now dressed. You couldn’t deny how good he looked, fresh out of the shower, the lingering scent of soap and warmth filling the space between you.

But the question weighed on your mind, and finally, you managed to ask, “Please tell me we didn’t…?”

Daniel’s gaze softened further, his eyes flickering with an understanding smile as he placed a steadying hand on your shoulder, letting it linger for just a moment before he replied. “If we slept together? No, we didn’t.”

A breath you hadn’t realized you were holding slipped out in relief. Before you could fully process it, though, Daniel added, “But I’m also not gonna pretend that you didn’t try to… and I’m definitely not going to act like nothing else happened.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt your breath catch, a wave of both nerves and arousal coursing through you. “Oh God,” you mumbled, lifting yourself onto the countertop by the sink, feeling a little dizzy, staring at the floor as you tried to piece together what he meant. “What did I make you do?”

Daniel leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his gaze steady and entirely too knowing as he took in the expression on your face. “You didn’t make me do anything, darling,” he said softly, his tone gentle yet firm. “It takes two to tango.”

The words lingered in the quiet, settling over you with a weight you couldn’t ignore. He shifted, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “Let’s just say… this isn’t the first time you’ve sat on that countertop in the last 24 hours. Although, last night it was for… different reasons.”

As soon as he said it, memories rushed back in vivid, unfiltered flashes—the feel of his hands, the press of his lips, the way he held you as if he’d waited forever to do so. Your cheeks flushed deeper, the weight of those memories flooding you, the reality of what had happened leaving you breathless.

“Oh God,” you murmured, looking down, struggling to meet his eyes. The blush deepened, and you tried to banish the embarrassment, but it was impossible to hide the way your body reacted to just being near him, recalling every detail of last night.

Daniel watched you, his gaze contemplative, and he let out a small sigh, pressing his lips together before speaking. “Look… you were drunk. I’d had a bit to drink too. I understand if you regret it” His voice was steady, but there was a subtle tension underneath, as if he was holding something back.

You took a deep breath, fiddling with your hands as you struggled to find the right words. "Yeah, about that.." you said, taking a deep breath before continuing "There might be a slight problem to that"

Daniel studied the way you were acting, unsure of what to expect “We can pretend it didn’t happen, if that’s what you want. That's no problem” he offered, though his tone held a hint of something unresolved, something unsaid.

Finally, you looked up at him, your gaze meeting his, the sincerity in your expression clear. “Well… I guess the problem is that..” you whispered, voice barely audible at first, but then you gathered your courage and continued, “I don’t regret it, Daniel… not at all.”

The words hung in the air between you, thickening the silence, every hidden feeling and unspoken desire now out in the open. His eyes widened slightly, the guarded expression slipping as something raw and vulnerable crossed his face.

Daniel's eyes softened at your words, the vulnerable confession drawing him closer, dissolving any remaining space between you. He stepped forward, situating himself between your legs once more, just like he had done last night, but this time you were both sober.

His presence warm and steady, grounding you in the intimacy of the moment. His hands reached up slowly, one gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing a soft line along your skin, the other tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His gaze was deep, intense, and full of affection as he looked into your eyes, his face only inches from yours.

"Good," he whispered, his voice low and tender, “because I don’t regret it either.”

Without another word, he closed the distance, his lips finding yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. There was no urgency, only a steady, deliberate affection that conveyed every unspoken emotion he’d held back. His kiss was soft and careful, full of warmth, each touch of his lips conveying the depth of his feelings as he held you close.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and you both shared a quiet, contented breath, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. But the tenderness only fueled the lingering desire that had simmered between you both, and with a sudden burst of confidence, you grasped the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to you.

This time, the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync as the restraint melted away, giving way to something more fervent, tinged with longing. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you even closer, his fingers splaying against your skin. The gentle intimacy turned heated, your mouths exploring, tongues teasing as the passion escalated with each passing second. You could feel his breath hitch as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned softly against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

Without breaking the kiss, your lips began to wander, trailing a path from his mouth to his jaw, where you lingered, pressing soft, teasing kisses that made him shudder under your touch. You could feel the subtle stubble against your lips, the warmth radiating from his skin as you moved lower, planting slow, lingering kisses along his neck, tasting the faint hint of his cologne mixed with his natural scent. Each kiss seemed to draw a deeper, ragged breath from him, his chest rising and falling as he leaned into every touch, unable to hold back the quiet sounds of pleasure escaping his lips.

You let your hands roam freely, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, fingers tracing down the curves of his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. His pulse thrummed beneath your touch, quickening with each passing second. He swallowed hard, his breathing growing heavier as you continued, savoring every inch of him.

“God, Daniel,” you whispered against his neck, letting your lips brush the words over his skin. “You have no idea how good you look like this… or how good you feel.” Your voice was soft but laced with genuine admiration and a suggestive edge that had his grip on your waist tightening.

“Fuck…” he muttered, his voice thick with need as your words and touch clearly had an effect on him. He tilted his head back, giving you more access, his eyes closing for a moment as he absorbed the sensations.

Your lips brushed his ear, and you could feel him shiver as you whispered, “I’ve wanted this for so long, wanted to feel you… just like this.” Your words spilled out as you continued trailing kisses, his low groan fueling your confidence as you let your hands drift lower.

You let your fingers slide down his torso, tracing every line and curve of his body with deliberate, teasing slowness. Your hand finally ventured to the waistband of his boxers, and you pressed your palm against him, feeling the unmistakable hardness through the fabric. His breath hitched, a deep, guttural sound escaping his throat as he instinctively pushed into your touch, his fingers digging into your waist.

“God, you feel incredible,” you murmured, palming him gently, feeling his arousal grow beneath your hand, hardening with each brush of your fingers. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Daniel… wanted to know how you’d feel like this,” you admitted, voice a mix of admiration and desire.

“Shit… you’re… you’re killing me here,” he managed, his voice a strained whisper as he looked down at you, his eyes dark and filled with unrestrained want. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, his breathing growing heavier as he lost himself in every touch, every word you murmured against him.

You continued your slow, deliberate movements, letting your fingers trace along his length through the fabric, a satisfied smile crossing your face as he groaned in response, his hips pressing into your hand. “God, you look so good like this,” you breathed, meeting his gaze for a moment, taking in the way his face was flushed, his expression filled with raw, unfiltered desire.

“Keep talking like that, and… fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he rasped, his voice low, rough with need, his hands gripping your hips with more intensity, clearly unable to resist the effect you were having on him.

Emboldened by his reaction, you slipped a hand inside the waistband of his boxers, your fingers wrapping around him, and his entire body tensed, a shuddered moan escaping his lips as he exhaled sharply. As you started running your thumb along his length, savoring the way he twitched in your hand, his face contorted with pleasure as he bit his lip.

“God… that feels so good,” he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked down at you, his expression a mixture of awe and arousal. His hands roamed up and down your back, and you could feel the effect of every touch, every word, as his breathing grew heavier.

Between breaths, you whispered softly in his ear, “I want you, Daniel. All of you.” The words tumbled out, filled with a raw honesty that made him draw back just enough to meet your gaze.

In one swift, effortless motion, he lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his bed. He laid you gently onto the soft sheets, hovering over you as his lips met yours once more, igniting the same passion that had brought you here. Each kiss was heated and lingering, hands tracing and memorizing every line, every curve, savoring every moment that had led to this.

As his lips left a trail of kisses along your collarbone, your breaths came faster, and the anticipation tightened around you. But then when Daniel started removing your panties, you felt a familiar wave of nerves rise, and your voice trembled slightly as you spoke.

“I… uh…” you began, hesitating, feeling vulnerable but needing him to know. “I’ve never done this before.” The words left you in a shy, almost apologetic murmur, your cheeks heating as you admitted it. You lowered your gaze, fidgeting slightly under his gaze, before adding, “I mean, I’ve done… other things. Just… never got to, well, this part.”

He paused, taking in your words, his expression softening instantly. Cupping your face gently, his thumb brushed along your cheek, his gaze reassuring and kind. “Hey, there’s no pressure here. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he whispered, his voice steady, genuine. “We can take it slow. Or… we can keep things just like this.”

You bit your lip, the vulnerability still lingering as you met his gaze. “You’re not… disgusted, or something?” you asked, feeling a wave of self-consciousness bubble up. “I mean, I probably won’t be… any good. You’re… you know…” You trailed off, your face warming as the words left you.

He let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward to kiss you gently, his lips reassuring as he lingered for a moment before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Disgusted? Not even close,” he murmured, a faint smile on his lips. “And I promise you, that thought never even crossed my mind.” His thumb brushed along your cheek again, his gaze warm and encouraging. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me. Not at all.”

You took a steadying breath, feeling his words soothe the nerves that had crept in. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked up at him, heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and newfound confidence. “I don’t want to take it slow,” you admitted softly, voice barely above a whisper, but the words full of determination. “I want it to be with you, Daniel. I’ve… I’ve thought about this more times than I dare to admit,” you confessed, the warmth of your cheeks betraying the shyness that lingered, but you held his gaze.

His eyes softened at your words, a slow smile spreading across his face as he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Then I'm all yours,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

Without another word, Daniel leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, hungrier, every ounce of restraint between you both slipping away. His hands roamed up your back, pressing you firmly against him as your bodies melded together, the heat between you palpable. His lips moved over yours with an urgency that matched the rhythm of his heartbeat, each kiss filled with the passion that had built up over all this time, all the unspoken moments leading up to this.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as you felt his quiet groan against your mouth, his own hands exploring your curves, fingers tracing your waist and pulling you flush against him. His body hovered over yours as his gaze met yours, filled with both desire and a lingering tenderness that made your heart race.

His lips found yours again, and you welcomed him with a fervor that matched his own, your mouths moving in perfect sync as the kiss grew deeper, more intense. You could feel his body pressing into yours, the weight of him grounding you, making the moment feel all the more real. His hand traveled down your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as he settled between your legs, his hips pressing against yours in a way that made your entire body ache with anticipation, before slowly but surely entering you inch by inch.

Between kisses, his hands caressed every inch of your body, learning and savoring every curve, every response he drew from you. His mouth left a trail of kisses along your jaw, down your neck, lingering on the sensitive spots that made you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued his slow, intoxicating descent. Each kiss, each touch seemed to stir something deeper within you, the desire building to a crescendo with every shared breath.

“Fuck…” you whispered, your voice soft and laced with longing, and he looked up at you, a question in his gaze, waiting for any hint of hesitation.

But you only pulled him closer, guiding him to you as your hands roamed his back, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. He leaned down again, his lips finding yours as the kiss deepened, turning into something that went beyond words—a culmination of everything you’d both been holding back.

In that moment, every barrier fell away, and you lost yourselves in each other, the moment filled with soft murmurs, quiet laughter, and the tender, passionate intimacy you’d both waited far too long to share.

masterlist

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #smut #formula 1 smut #friends to lovers #fluff #redbull #red bull racing #danny ric #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #kissing #making out

424 notes · View notes

greengoblinswifey · 5 days ago

Note

can we get a fic where Luigi is stressed after a long day in his college classes and his gf gives him a blow job to help him relax? 👀 in excruciating detail puhleeeeze 😩

Helping Luigi out after a stressful day of classes.

Luigi sighed as he dropped his bag onto the couch, like he was trying to let go of the weight of the day. His dark, curly hair was slightly messy, a sure sign that he had been running his fingers through it in frustration, and his thick brows were still furrowed as he exhaled sharply.

You leaned against the doorway, watching him. “Long day?”

“Brutal. My professors are insane, my group project is a disaster, no one’s pulling their weight, and I swear if I have to listen to one more pointless lecture—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “You don’t wanna hear all that.”

You pushed off the doorframe, making your way over to him. “I don’t mind listening,” you murmured, placing your hands on his shoulders. “But, I can think of a much better way to help you relax.”

“Oh?” he said, his dark eyes flickering to yours, curiosity sparking beneath his exhaustion.

Your fingers went down his chest, smoothing over his pecs then his abs. “Mhm,” you hummed, tilting your head slightly as you gave him a coy smile. “You work so hard, baby. You deserve a little something.”

His breath hitched just slightly, and you could feel his muscles tense beneath your touch. “What exactly are you suggesting?” he asked, his voice going lower, raspier.

You smirked, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before letting your hands slide lower. “Why don’t you just sit back and relax,” you whispered. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

Luigi swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared at you. Your hands went even lower, slipping into his boxers and taking ahold of his hard, thick cock. No matter how many times you had it in your palm, you just couldn’t get enough. m

You grinned, nudging him back until he sank onto the couch before sinking gracefully to your knees between his legs.

His head fell back against the cushions, a deep, contented moan slipping past his lips. One of his hands found its way into your curls. “You’re amazing,” he murmured.

He was so big in your hand, his vein prominent and pre cum leaking from the pink, mushroom tip. With your gaze doe eyed and needy, you stuck your ass out and slowly took his cock in your mouth. You hummed as he stretched your lips, vibrations spreading throughout his body. “Fuck,” he moaned, already getting lost in the pleasure.

You took him deeper, swirling your tongue as you did and using your hands to caress his balls that were heavy with cum until the tip hit the back of your throat.

Luigi’s hands went to the cushions, gripping as if grounding himself. “You’re such a good fucking cock sucker. Keep going,” he groaned.

Teasingly, you removed him from your mouth, running your lips along the shaft then replacing it with your tongue. You were a sloppy mess, salvia and pre cum dripping down your chin, eyes dazed and lust blown. “Mm, I love how you taste,” you praised, before taking him down your throat.

As you bobbed your head at a steady pace, his fingers tangled in your curls firmly but gently, thrusting up into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed, and you ran your hands along his thigh caressing him. “God, this fucking mouth. You’re such a good girl helping me relax.”

He pulled you by your hair off him with a pop, a trail of saliva connecting you. He took himself in his free hand, slapping his cock against your cheek and your lips. “So pretty, baby,” he cooed. “My good little cock sucker.”

He dragged the shaft across your lips then lodged it between them, sliding back and forth as his moans grew louder.

“Holy shit. Open wide, baby. My dick needs to be back down that throat.”

You did as you were told and took him right back, your movements increasing, precise and deliberate. His hips bucked, balls tightening as your mouth was on the verge of tipping him over the edge.

He met your mouth with thrusts, each making you gag as your tongue slid across his throbbing length. “You’re really helping me relax, sweetheart. I wanna cum down your throat so bad.”

His resolve snapped as his hand guided you all the way down onto him until your nose touched his pelvis. You felt his control waver, his head tilting back as a deep, guttural sound escaped him. His fingers were tighter in your curls, pulling you up and down his long, thick shaft fast, as the sound of gagging and spit filled the room like you were nothing but a throat for him to use.

“God, you’re incredible,” he groaned, his voice breaking into praises as his grip tightened. “My perfect fucking girl.”

You slapped his dick on your tongue before taking him in once more, the throbbing unmistakeable. “C-cum in my mouth,” you begged him, your voice desperate and shaking. He relented with a deep moan, his praise spilling out.

“You’re so, so perfect, baby. Take my cum,” he gasped, as ropes of his hot load shot down your throat.

You swallowed every drop and looked up at him, ass in the air with lust blown eyes, sticking your tongue out to show that nothing had gone to waste.

Luigi’s head fell back against the couch, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. His fingers were still tangled in your curls, holding onto you like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

You smirked up at him, pressing one last kiss to his tip before shifting up to settle between his legs. He reached for you, pulling you into his lap and capturing your lips in a slow kiss. His fingers brushed over your cheek, as he deepened it, his tongue sliding against yours as he tasted himself in a way that had you melting into him.

When he finally pulled back, he let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “You’re unreal, amore,” he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “The best girlfriend anyone could ever ask for.”

Before you could respond, he dipped his head down, pressing a series of soft, grateful kisses along your jaw. “Thank you for this,” he whispered against your skin. “For taking care of me.”

You hummed, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching as his eyes fluttered shut at your touch. “Of course, baby,” you murmured. “You deserve to relax.”

Luigi exhaled deeply, his body sinking against yours. You guided him to lie back, letting him rest his head against your tits as your fingers combed through his curls in slow, soothing strokes. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close, his body completely at ease now.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Lu.”

#black reader #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione x reader #luigi x reader #luigi mangione x yn #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione blurb #luigi mangione prompt #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione edit #ceo killer #uhc shooter #uhc assassin #uhc killer #drabble #luigi mangione #luigi #free luigi

255 notes · View notes

cuteandhughesy · 5 months ago

Text

When The Seasons Change | Luke Hughes

summary: each season comes and with each one, you're falling deeper in love with your best friend. 4 + 1

11.0+k

link to masterlist

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

september 9th, 2015

dear diary <3

it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny. the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friends luke 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11.

anyways :) his party was a girl boy party and we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together but we couldn't because of jack and quinn's hockey.

it was a really fun day and luke loved the sidney crosby shirt I picked for him. but the reason i'm feeling funny is because of lacey patterson. lacey is in our class and was invited to the arcade as well. I thought she had a crush on matthew but the whole time she wouldn't leave luke alone. she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me.

i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special. his soft curly hair and his bright eyes and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love my best friend and now that lacey likes him I can't help but feel angry.

how and I suppose to grow up and marry luke if lacey is in the way???!!!

one: valentine's day

"it was a disaster," you sigh loudly, pushing your way into luke's apartment as he pulls open the threshold of the door. you toss your small pink bag on his counter top and slump into a bar stool, "I mean a breakfast date? I'm not even sure why I agreed to do that with him in the first place- I barely know the guy and breakfast certainly isn't the place to get to know him."

luke slowly makes his way over to you, still rubbing the sleep out of his eye with the palm of his hand. "I shouldn't say I told you so, but," he says sleepily, pausing to grab a bowl out of the kitchen cupboard, "I told you so."

you groan, dropping your head into your hands. "I really need to listen to you more," you admit, eyes flicking upwards as you watch luke pour himself a healthy sized amount of shreddies. you hate the cereal, you think it taste like dry wheat. luke has always loved shreddies though, so you always have some at the ready. plus, it's the only cereal luke's professional athlete diet allows.

he shrugs with a cheeky smirk.

"not only did he only talk about himself and refer to me as a 'female'," you air quote the condescending title and luke shudders between spoonfuls of cereal. you continue, "but he asked me how much money I make and spilt his orange juice on me - on valentine's day of all days. I swear i'm never spending valentine's day with a man again."

luke wipes the drip of milk off his mouth with the back of his hand, sending you a questioning look, "not even me?"

"you don't count, obviously, or I wouldn't be here." you raise your brows in his direction, as if if to say duh.

luke smirks again but shoves more cereal in his mouth to try and mask it. "right, okay, guys an asshole - so you ended the awkward valentines breakfast to head here at..." he trails off, eyes finding the digital clock on his and jack's shared stove for the first time that morning. "8:56 in the morning - jesus is this guy 80?"

"I wish," you huff, "an eighty year old would probably of kept his nose out of my bank account."

luke snickers, dropping his dirty bowl in the sink.

"do something with me today?" you plead, leaning across the counter top so you can poke his muscular side. "don't let my valentines makeup go to waste."

luke tiredly glances over to you, taking note of how there's a little pink glitter sprinkled across your eyelids and how your usual lip colour was replaced with a more pink toned shade. your smile all cheesy at him and it has luke breaking out of his thoughts - blinking hard.

"how does lunch and the movies sound?" he asks after a moment of pondering. "i'm sure there's some sappy romantic movie playing."

you scoff at his tone, "hey! I love those sappy romantic movies."

"I know," he hums, leaning against the counter infront of you. "that's why I suggested it."

you place your head in your palm, looking up at your best friend fondly as he practically leans over you. "you're the best lukey," you say after a moment, a gentle smile on your face.

he shrugs and the action has his sleep shirt lifting to reveal his toned v-line and happy trail. you don't let your eyes linger, quickly darting your vision away before you turn red.

luke's expression changes briefly, and it looks like he may say something but the sound of jacks bedroom door clicking open has him stopping - eyes darting to the hallway just as his brother shuffles out.

jacks eyes find yours as you sit comfortably in his bar stool. he admits a big yawn and wide stretch before mumbling - "I should've known it was you making all this noise."

he rounds into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle to boil himself some water for his beloved morning coffee.

"ha ha," you say sarcastically.

"why the fuck does it smell like orange juice in here." jack mumbles.

"oh god," you cry out, grabbing your bag and sliding off the stool. now that luke's eyes are properly open and he's aware of his conscious, he sees how your white jeans have an orange liquid stain on the leg. luke smiles fondly as your cheeks tinge pink, brushing past him and his brother and towards the front door, "i'm going home and changing!"

luke laughs gently, following behind you. "i'll text you when i'm leaving here."

"sounds great," you breath out, a smile making its way onto your face. "wear pink," you tease him, shimming your shoulder in his direction.

"happy valentine's day," jack calls out from the kitchen. you catch sight of him shuffling his way past the door and back down the hall, a steaming mug in his hands.

you meet luke's eyes again and hes still looking at you, leaning against the door in his morning glory - plaid pyjama pants hanging low and his arms crossed to make all his muscles stretch deliciously. "happy valentine's day," luke mimics his brother in a fond whisper.

"happy valentine's day," you repeat. "i'll see you later."

"you will." luke says.

when you get back to your apartment complex, marianne, the front desk receptionist, flags you over before you can reach the elevator - her bright red lipstick and heart bobble head band instantly making you smile.

"you have a delivery," she says, pushing a massive vase full of red roses in your direction.

you're momentarily in a state of shock, staring at the bouquet of flowers dumbfounded. "are you sure they're for me?" you splutter after a moment.

marianne nods joyfully, a finger running over one of the delicate pedals. "oh yes, honey! delivery man dropped them off real early this morning."

you pluck the crisp white card from its slot, quickly opening the small envelope with slightly shaky fingers - anxiously wanting to reveal the mystery behind the roses.

just incase your breakfast date doesn't get you flowers. I hope you get all the ladybugs in your stomach today, y/n/n. happy valentine's day.

love, lukey.

two: easter

"you two seriously need to quit this," quinn's voice is a mix of bordem and amusement, eyeing you and luke. "it's every year." quinn concludes, jack nodding in silent agreement as he bites into a chocolate egg.

"quit and willingly loose to luke?" you thumb over your shoulder to the tallest hughes brother - who is standing diagonally behind you with his arms crossed. "absolutely not."

jack tries to hit you with a chocolate egg, but it misses your body - you send him an accusing glare before quinn starts again.

"guys, seriously it's just an egg hunt." he deadpans, eyes dancing between his brother and you.

"it's not just an egg hunt," luke says matter of factly. his arms fall to his sides and he steps closer to you, the fabric of his flannel brushing your exposed shoulder. "it's one of the only times I get to prove to everyone I am the superior egg finder."

competitively, you roll your eyes. luke has been using that line since one of the very first easters you had spent together.

when you were 5 years old, your family moved to your now home city and into the two story house neighbouring the hughes' home. it was almost instantly that you and luke become close - after he got over how'd you'd aimlessly follow him around and want to be near him (you liked the leafs just like him so he liked you soon after).

your parents become very close with ellen and jim and it become a tradition to spend easter together - enjoying the festive meal and activities. even now with quinn in a different country and you, jack and luke all in jersey, you would all find yourself making it home for the easter dinner and egg hunt.

which leads you into your second ever holiday spent with the hughes family - the first egg hunt you had won. luke claimed to his family after they had teased him that he let you win and was, in fact, the superior egg hunter. obviously, you couldn't let that slide and you're still battling luke in your early twenties for the title of egg hunt champion.

"you wish," you tease luke, "a superior egg hunter would of brought proper footwear to ensure they could get down and dirty." slowly, your eyes flicker to luke's feet, eyeing the crisp white air forces that were bound to get filthy.

luke scoffs, taking a step towards you. "oh trust me - i'm ready to get dirty."

"is this how kids flirt now?" jacks voice is like a nail to your eardrum and you quickly take a step away from luke, making your way to the island and grabbing your bunny shaped bucket.

"it's called smack talk," luke answers his brother sharply, also grabbing his egg basket - a bright yellow whicker bin with fuzzy chicks hot glued to the handle: he's been using it forever. "this is a competition."

"it's really not," quinn mutters, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he leans into the kitchen island.

just before you or luke could scold the eldest hughes, ellen makes her way through the back door, her pink floral maxi skirt swaying around her ankles. "you guys coming out?" she questions you all, her brows raised expectantly. "all the young kids are ready."

"oh," luke snickers, "i'm ready."

"we are all ready," you correct, eyeing your best friend briefly.

she smiles fondly, her small hands clasping together - ellen hughes would never get tired of seeing you and all her boys together on the holidays. "the eggs are all hidden - don't forget the winner gets the chocolate bunny!" she sing songs, guiding you all to the large backyard decorated in pastels and flowers.

"see," luke hums, jamming his elbow into his oldest brothers side, "told you it was a competition."

"oh my god."

after a brief speech from ellen, you were informed the oldest kids (you, luke, jack and quinn) would be searching for the blue coloured eggs and the younger kids (consisting mostly of hughes' cousins) would be searching for yellow eggs. the yellow eggs were hidden in easier spots but jim and your dad had ensured the blue eggs were in more difficult places.

10 minutes into the hunt, you've secured 6 of the possible 17 blue easter eggs. you wander further down the large property, eyes frantically searching for more to add to your collection. it isn't long before you catch a glimpse of bright blue - the small egg nestled between a few branches up in one of the trees. you're suprised you could even see it through the leaves, but the sun catches the egg once more and you're positive you're not imagining it.

with a determined head, you place your bucket on the ground near the stump of the tree before grabbing ahold of the lowest branch. you use all your strength to start hauling yourself up the tree, climbing upwards through the leaves and branches.

finally, you reach the height of the easter egg, and you smile victoriously, reaching out to grab it. at your sudden movement, the branch you had been standing on with your one foot gives out, cracking loudly until it snaps downwards. you gasp, hands reaching out to wrap around the thick trunk, watching horrified as your previous spot swings in the air.

you scan the surrounding branches, looking for the most secure one for your full weight - one that wouldn't break off under your feet. there's one behind you that looks promising, so you shift against the trunk, carefully stepping across the gap in the branches until you can fully place your feet on the new one.

you sigh once you feel secure, taking a deep breath to try and let the erratic heart beating in your chest come back to normal. miraculously through your almost plummet back to the ground, you managed to keep ahold of your egg and your gripping that damn blue thing hard, ensuring after all that trouble it wasn't going anywhere.

once your adrenaline levels return to a much more manageable level and the thumping heartbeat in your eardrums subsides, you decide you're ready to start making your journey to the ground - as safe as possible.

you let your one foot steps off, pressing down on a different branch to test its sturdiness. it seems stable enough, and you push off the trunk behind you to help push yourself onto the other branch.

your dress tugs, not allowing you to move over. you frown in confusion, trying to pull away harder. it's no luck, and your eyes close in disbelief. you try and uncomfortably stretch around yourself to catch sight of what the hell was going on and you catch a glimpse of of a sharp broken twig, completely hooked through your dress.

and of course you've left your phone behind on the kitchen island when you decided you'd have to use for it during the egg hunt. you course yourself, making another attempt at wiggling yourself off the ridged twig. it proves to be unsuccessful when you try and move onto the other branch once again and find yourself still being pulled back towards the trunk.

just as you begin to feel waves on panic bubble up your body and tears well up in your eyes, the sound of shuffling below halts your meltdown. you listen more intently, and the melodies of an all too familiar hushed whistle adding to the noise.

luke is wandering around aimlessly, whistling the megan moroney song you had showed him the week prior - clearly he has taken a liking to it as well. he's got his easter basket in his hand, swinging it slightly so his collected eggs roll around.

he is practically right under the tree you're in, and you take the opportunity before it leaves. "luke!" you call your friends name, your voice a mixture between a whisper and a yell - not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to your very uncomfortable and embarrassing position, luke would surely tease you enough to make up for everyone.

luke's whistling comes to a halt, his body coming to a stand still near the large roots of the tree that were protruding from the soil. he spins around a couple times, looking for you.

a beat passes.

"where are you?" luke questions quietly, doing another 360 of the area. he knows you can't be too far because you sounded close, but not directly beside him. his brows furrow when he can't see anything.

"in the tree - i'm stuck." you huff, eyes closing as the rush of embarrassment comes after admitting your predicament out loud. luke still looks confused and unsure, so you sigh, rustling one of the nearby branches to show him that you were in fact in a tree and not hiding in a nearby bush - planning to ambush him for his eggs.

finally luke catches on, looking up towards the thick branches wide eyed and confused. once he catches sight of you, his previous expression morphes into one of mischief and his lips tug upwards in a gooey smile. "oh! don't you look all cute up there."

you ignore his teasing with a dismissive eye roll, "come up here and help me untangle myself from this damn branch."

luke's eyes wander towards the trunk of the tree, landing on your easter basket that you'd previously abandoned in favour of climbing - your blue eggs starting at him in all their glory. luke hums, slowly looking back towards you - his eyes shimmering with a misbehaved twinkle you're all too familiar with. "nah, I think i'll just take some of these eggs and be on my way."

"lukeeeeee," you whine his name, eyes closing in annoyance- luke could really push your buttons when he wanted to.

your hands are starting to hurt from the bark under you palm, and your ridged posture from being caught by the tree is becoming uncomfortable. "come help meeeee," you whine again, "is this how you're going to treat your best friend?"

when you began to speak, luke has already put down his own easter basket, nestling it beside yours wiped his hands free of any sweat and made his way towards the tree, large fingers wrapping around the first branch as he pulls himself up. "relax, i'm coming."

you watch as he quickly climbs up the tree, resembling a spider monkey as his long limbs wrap around branches and you smile to yourself at the thought of luke as a monkey.

suddenly, you begin to feel embarrassed about your situation. you feel even sillier for getting yourself stuck on a branch, something taht could've been avoidable if you weren't so damn stubborn about a stupid egg hunt. your previous smile of relief turns sour, eyes downcast as luke finally gets to your level.

your face has luke mimicking your frown, brows drawn together as he addresses you. he reaches out for you, running a large hand over your curled hair. "hey, don't worry - you're okay."

you muster one nod in acknowledgment, taking a shaky breath.

"let's see," luke mutters between you, leaning into your personal space to attempt in getting a proper look at the damage - one of his arms wrapping around your body for stability as he peeks over your shoulder. "easy peasy," luke adjusts his body slightly, his chest brushing your bare shoulder as he fiddles with the material of your dress.

you fight off a pleasant shiver, controlling your breathing as his long fingers brush against your soft skin, tickling you in the best way. finally, you feel your dress become loose and fall back into its proper position.

you breathe in relief, your smile returning.

"ta da," luke pulls back, his own smile lighting up his face as he hovers over you. now that you're less stressed, you notice how intimate your and luke's position is. his feet's are slotted between yours in the thick branch, his one arm still around your body while his other one moves to wrap around the trunk, holding you both there - his breath fanning over your face.

"you're welcome." he teases you, snapping you out of your own head.

"thank you." you hum nonchalantly, one of your hands coming up and fixing your hair and be ridding of any stray leaves or baby twigs that may of found their way in there.

"what's my reward?" luke questions gently, head tilted as his tongues slowly darts out, licking his bottom lip.

the air turns thick with a sticky tension, making your spot in the tree feel like it suddenly was located on the sun. quickly, your eyes widen, watching the way luke begins to smirk at your flustered face.

you clear your throat, choosing to not read into any underlying meaning. "one of my easter eggs." you answer firmly, a gentle nod of confidence following suit.

he tongues his cheek. "just one?"

you nod once again, a noise of conformation falling from your lips.

luke hums, eyes not leaving yours as he says - "guess i'll just take more."

because you know your best friend all too well,before he can even attempt to descend back towards the ground, you push of the branch, quickly moving around him and scaling down the trunk. you're suprised at how quick you get to the ground and even more suprised you don't hurt yourself in the process.

just as you grab ahold the fuzzy purple bunny easter basket off the ground, you hear luke thump back onto the grass, a gentle laugh of disbelief falling from his mouth.

you turn on your heels to face him, your basket gripped in your hand as you swing it teasingly out towards him - a victorious and teasing smile on your face.

he kisses his teeth and his eyes dart towards the ground to mask his amused grin. he grabs his own easter basket before making the short distance to you.

"like promised," you say, plucking one of the shiny blue eggs from your basket. "your reward." delicately, you place the egg into luke's basket, adding to his collection of five.

almost immediately, luke grabs the egg you just gave him, placing it back into your basket. "no it's okay," he says quickly, hand raised defensively when you begin to furrow your brows. luke continues, "after all, when I win, I want it to be fair and square."

"my god," you roll your eyes fondly, the corners of your lips tugging up in a smile. "whatever helps you sleep lukey."

"I see another one!" jack yells somewhere on the property - quinn's voice following suit as he threatens to fight jack over an easter egg.

simultaneously, your and luke's eyes widen at what you're hearing.

"what's over there?" luke questions, brows furrowed as he points behind you.

you frown in confusion, spinning around to try and spots the object of luke's gaze.

he takes off, calling out some stupid insult about you being a sloth as he does. your scoff of disbelief turns into a laugh, and you begin to run.

you don't remember finding the last egg that was sitting in your basket when ellen counted all of them out - but seeing as you had the most blue eggs out of everyone, you weren't going to complain, taking your chocolate bunny prize happily.

luke watches you light up with joy when you are declared the winner for another year in a row. he finds himself smiling along, happy that when he handed you the egg back you had given him as a reward, he managed to slip one of his own back in with it- just like he does every year.

three: 4th of july

you knew that having another vodka water, adding to your borderline drunk state, wasn't the smartest idea - but you cracked open the can regardless, the sound echoing over the michigan lake.

you take a hearty sip to mask the scowl on your face. lacey laughs loudly, and your annoyance grows because yes it was the same lacey from luke's birthday party all those years ago and yes, unfortunately she was close to some of your other friends so yes she'd often hang out with the group.

this 4th of july weekend was no exception as you watch lacey continue to hang around luke and jack - your jealousy meter maxing out anytime she would lean into luke or touch his arm.

you take another sip, some of the liquid dribbling down you lip after quinn drives over one of the waves, sending trevor zegras into the air as he wakeboards behind you. quickly and rather aggressively, you wipe the spilled alcohol off your chin, eyes still pointedly glaring towards your best friend, his brother and lacey.

as if he can sense your staring, luke turns his head in your direction, quickly finding you on the bench seat. you're sitting with your back turned to wards the water and jacob truscott - who's job is attentively watching trevor as he wakeboards.

luke's initial smile with seeing you is wiped away once he sees that you're annoyed, your clear sour face making him frown. quickly, you turn your head in the opposite direction.

and because drunk you has no self control, you quickly look back in luke's direction, not lasting 5 seconds. luke is still watching you, his brows pulled together in question. just when it looks like he is going to make his way over to you, lacey grabs his wrist, lighting up as she animatedly begins to tell a story that 'he just had to hear!'

you start to become angry. not only were you feeling frustrated because lacey was not your cup of tea and jack invited her to your 4th of july celebration regardless of your feelings, but you were even more upset by the fact that luke was allowing himself to be so easily entertained by her. luke had always treated lacey normally, even though you often expressed how you weren't her biggest fan - which was okay, of course. you didn't want luke to treat her differently just because you didn't like her, but still - it had you feeling jealous.

you take a huffy breath, getting up from your seated position as careful and as stable as you could while being drunk on a moving boat. obviously, it wasn't your best or most successful idea, quinn jerking the boat for trevor's boarding quickly and it has you stumbling - right into the back of jacob.

he turns around quickly, his eyes blown wide as he takes you in. "hey, y/n, you okay?"

and just like that your brain comes up with a plan. one that though you may regret in the morning when you're sober, in your drunkenness sounds perfect - you've never thought of a better idea in your life. you smile at jacob, fluttering your lashes at him. "can I sit and watch with you?"

jacob watches as you bite you lip in question while you await his answer, eyeing him with a hazy look over your bright eyes.

he chuckles slightly, "course you can."

you smile cheerfully and you quickly start to make the small step up onto the seat platform, your small hand gripping jacob's strong shoulder to help balance yourself until you gracefully plop down beside him. as flirtatious as you can manage while being intoxicated, you run your hand from his shoulder down his arm, trying to tickle him.

jacob eyes you suspiciously, a small amused smile beginning to tug his lips upwards. you smile back, bringing your hand into your lap. "what are you up to?" jacob questions after a moment. he doesn't wait for an answer before he turns his head to look over his shoulder - right at luke.

"nothing!" you hum, laying your palm flat on his cheek and bringing his gaze back towards you.

jacob gives you a look, brows raised knowingly. he has to tongue his cheek to not laugh, your plan of trying to make luke jealous obvious. clearly you're not as inconspicuous as you thought.

you shrug once, leaning in even closer to jacob. "just wanted to sit with you is all."

he just nods, shrugging nonchalantly "whatever you say." jacob's eyes leave yours, attention back on trevor on the wakeboard. clearly jacob doesn't mind helping you out, he even lets his hand slide behind you, resting flat on the seat right near your ass - he doesn't even seem flustered at the how if he stretched his pinky out he'd be touching your butt - that kind of makes you feel at ease.

after flirting and laughing with jacob for 10 minutes, trevor's time on the wake board comes to an end, quinn slowing down the boat. in that 10 minutes you'd only managed to get in a glance towards luke three times (jacob kept you pretty entertained oddly enough), and everytime luke was wearing a neutral expression - his arms crossed and listening to lacey.

trevor removes himself from to board, breathless as he climbs onto the swim platform."did you guys see me hit that last wave?" he smiles, unzipping the life jacket wrapped around his torso.

"it was sick," ethan edwards comes up beside you, leaning on his elbows right beside your thighs to talk to trevor - drunk you honestly forget he was here. "fuck man way cooler than any waves I got - quinn must have his favourites." ethan continues, playfully side eyeing the oldest hughes brother as he makes his way over to the back of the boat.

"ha ha," quinn says sarcastically, grabbing onto the rope of the wake board paddle and pulling it towards the boat. "if I actually had favourites, trevor wouldn't be one of them."

trevor cries out and grabs his peck like quinn's words had actually reached out and stabbed him, "ouch."

quinn ignores trevor, rolling his eyes dismissively - although his lips move upwards in a small smile. "alright," he breaths, finally getting the wakeboard onto the swim platform, " who wants to go next."

looking back over your shoulder once more, you see that luke still isn't bothered enough in coming over to you - listening to some story lacey was blabbing on about to jack and dylan duke.

you hum, shooting up off the bench. you wobble slightly, ethan grabbing your ankle reflexively to try and steady you. you smile triumphantly, "i'll go." you make your way over to quinn, taking the protective life jacket from trevor's outstretched hand.

quinn looks you up and down, eyes hesitant. "you sure?"

you nod without looking at him, stepping into the boots of the board. if flirting with luke's friend wasn't working in getting his attention, hanging off the back of the boat as you zip through the water surely had to.

you clip the buckles down, the sound snapping against the boots. quinn bends down in attempt to help you get secure, but you dismiss him, dropping off of the swimming platform and into the water.

"y/n..." quinn starts, his eyes filled with doubt.

"i'm good." you take the ropes right out of quinn's hands, wrapping them once around your wrist. "let's do it."

he sighs but doesn't protest any further, leaving you alone. quinn walks off the platform, making his way back to the driver's seat.

the engine starts a few moments later, the roar making you smile slightly - adjusting the slippy rope handles as you prepare to start.

"fuck yeah, y/n!" jack calls, hands bracketed around his mouth as he cheers for you, his voice echoing over the lake.

after getting your thumbs up, quinn starts to drive, the movement of the motor vehicle slowly dragging your body towards the surface, gaining speed until the wakeboard comes to the top. jacob slaps the bench seat a few times in a cheer, him and ethan both praising and cheering you on back on the boat. your smile widens at the boys and luke's brows furrow.

the boat is going the proper speed now, and quinn starts to do circles around himself to create the desired waves - you swallow nervously as you see the first one approaching. you can feel your hands loosen on the rope again , and naturally your fingers unhook themselves in order for them to readjust. the wave hits sooner than anticipated, and you first jolt forwards quickly before being flung backwards, your feet coming out of the boots as you get launched into the water.

you push up to the surface with your shaky arms, a gasping breath leaving your lips as you take in the air.

the boat has been stopped, and there's a group of worried faces staring at you from about 10 feet away. you definitely shouldn't of dismissed quinn when he wanted to check over your buckles, and you definitely shouldn't of let your guard down when trying to re-grip the rope.

you start to leisurely swim back towards the boat, feeling much more calm now that you’re not being panicked underwater. “i’m good!” you laugh it off, approaching the platform.

jack is waiting for you, his hand outstretched in your direction. you grip it, your wet palm slapping against his calloused one as he pulls you out of the water. he says your name through a smile, “that was badass."

then you notice how luke’s there as well, looking much more stressed than his brother - eyes frantically searching you for any visible injuries. "are you okay?" he breaths.

"yes," you sigh firmly. jack finally lets you go, allowing you to stand yourself up on your own feet. as you place your left foot down fat, your ankle screams in protest and gives out on you - making you topple forwards with a yelp. "fuck."

instantly, luke is there, rushing towards you and grabbing a hold of your arms. he keeps you upright, leaning down so he can look into your eyes. “what hurts?”

"my ankle," you whine quietly, eyes moving down in embarrassment. not only were you drunk, but you were now hurt and in enough pain for your intoxication to not even be able to mask it. "it really hurts lukey." you whisper, your throat becoming thick with emotion.

"okay, okay," luke wraps an arm around your waist, putting all of your weight onto him as he helps you off of the swimming platform and onto the carpeted area of the boat. you wince quietly in the short time it takes to get to the front of the boat - away from prying eyes that would only have you feeling even more embarrassed.

"sit down." luke tells you sternly, helping in lowering you to the seat. tears are desperately wanting to escape, the entire day of events weighing heavy on your chest.

luke turns away from you, reaching into the blue drink cooler - digging through the ice and cans of seltzers until he finds a plastic water bottle. he grabs it, walking back towards you with an unreadable expression, sitting across from you.

"i'm cold." you say as soon as luke sits down. you can’t decide if you’re cold because your wet and the sun is starting to set or if it’s because luke’s knees keep brushing yours, igniting goosebumps.

your emotions come to a head, and a tear finally falls, trailing down the round of your sunkissed cheek.

"let's take off the lifejacket, okay?" he reaches towards you, unzipping the wet jacket. your boobs definitely spill out of your bikini top in a way that is probably unflattering, no longer pushed against you by the life jacket. “give it back incase somebody else wants a turn.” luke grabs dylan dukes abandoned towel, wrapping the fluffy cover around your shoulders.

his teasing gives right over your head.

"okay," luke sighs quietly, tapping his two fingers against your thigh."let me see your ankle, put it on my leg."

you do as he says, bringing your leg up and over so you can comfortably have your knee bent and foot laying flat on luke's muscular thigh - his leg hairs tickling your painted toes.

softly, luke uses the water bottle he'd earlier grabbed as a temporary ice pack, pressing it to your ankle bone. the coolness feels nice, and it already is helping the pain.

your mood turns even more unpleasant when you her lacey's high pitched laugh echo around you - assaulting your water logged ear drums. you keep your eyes downcast, fingers wordlessly fiddling with a loose strand on the beach towel.

you sniffle, "wouldn't you rather be with lacey?" your jealously is definitely showing, but you're too irritated with the days events to be civil. lacey, combined with hurting your ankle and having luke practically ignoring you all day has your filter disappearing.

one of luke's long fingers slowly starts running along the back of your calf. "nah." he says gently. you can feel his eyes on you, but you're still not sure if you can handle looking into his eyes in the state your in.

your brows raise in suprise, and your disbelief is still prevalent in your tone. "really? she sure gives you a lot of attention."

luke shrugs once. "you're hurt. you take priority."

his answer has you scoffing slightly, and you tug harder on the loose towel thread. "only because i'm hurt?" finally, you look back towards him, eyes pinched with irritation at his answer.

in all seriousness, luke looks at you. his lips almost tug down in a frown, and his eyes begin to soften at your red cheeks and glazed eyes. "no. you always are my priority."

now you feel embarrassed. although lacey is more outgoing and flirty than you are, you are luke's best friend - not her. quickly, your hand comes up to wipe away any fallen tears, "sorry." you mumble.

luke dismisses your apology, tapping your heel twice around the cold water bottle he was still pressing against you. he eyes your somber expression again, and kisses his teeth.

your eye him as he scoots closer towards you. "can I tell you something?"

you nod, naturally finding yourself leaning in as well.

luke's lips begin to turn upwards. "watching you flirt and spend time with jacob today...It made me feel kind of jealous."

you feel your heart come to a hard stop and then speed up again - beating frantically at luke's confession. you're sure your mouth is opening and closing like a fish, but you're too baffled to say anything.

he continues quietly, "because, you know, he was taking my best friends attention away from me."

you deflate.

luke shrugs, "and I know that's hypocritical because I was kind of being a dick today but still...jacob doesn't deserve your attention - neither do I honestly but-"

you shake your head, bumping the leg that wasn't resting on his thigh against luke's knee, stopping his rambling. he's still your luke, no matter what. he's awkward and sweet and....yours.

"you're the only one I really want to give my attention to, lukey."

he smiles gently, "really?"

"yeah - i'm drunk," you remind him, "I can't lie even if I want to." you both laugh at your half slurred confession, leaning into each other as you do so.

as quinn pulls the boat back towards the dock of the hughes summer house, you can't even remember why you'd been annoyed with luke in the first place - too focused on him nursing your ankle and his soft smile.

four: fall festivities

"jello shot?" you ask through an exhale, a bright smile on your face. you gesture the small serving tray full of colourful desert towards the two girls in front of you. thankfully, they smile back, happily taking the alcohol from you.

you nod in parting before picking up your pace once more, gripping the tray harder as you practically jog around your condo - determined to serve everybody.

when luke had mentioned jack offered to host the annual new jersey devils halloween party, he told you that him and his brother were worried about the limited space in their apartment and were unsure of how they were going to make it work. seeing your best friend in a predicament had you immediately offering your place to throw it.

not only was your space bigger, but your only neighbour was a wealthy businessman who was never home, so there would be no noise complaints and no issues with fitting the devils roster in for a halloween themed party. obviously your offer had nothing to do with being totally into your best friend and going to any extreme to see him happy - obviously.

there was a few more people attending than you were initially expecting to show up - which mostly consist of the wives and girlfriends of the team, but still, you hadn't factored that in. the added people had your hosting skills dialled up to an 11, and you can't remember the last time you had sat down or properly mingled with anybody - too busy making sure everything was stocked.

you squeeze through a group of laughing girls you don't recognize, and you whisper your apologies as you move through them. "jell-o shot?" you question, approaching dougie, dawson and john near the fireplace.

"oh hey," john greets you, dressed like a minion. "you look like you're having a great time." john laughs and they all reach out to take a halloween coloured shot cup off your tray.

"I am if you are," you smile politely, his teasing remark flying over your head - you're too tired and stressed to digest his words properly.

you're definitely not having a great time. your hand is cramping around the orange and purple striped serving tray, your fake eyelashes are stabbing you, your legs are killing you, and don't even start on how your faux fur coat has you sweating profusely.

"cruella, right?" dawson is the one to question you, gesturing to your halloween costume - a simple black dress paired with a spotted coat, red gloves, pearls and the wig of course.

you nod, "in the flesh."

"y/n!" you hear jack call your name loudly from the opposite end of your condo, his hands clasped around his mouth as he shouts for you. "we need more punch."

you sigh gently, throwing your hand in the air blindly to give the middle hughes a thumbs up - a conformation that you heard him and you'd make another bowl.

"sorry, would you guys excuse me - duty calls." you manage to give a laugh towards the three devil players, all dressed in contradicting costumes, spinning on your heels and speed walking away.

you push through the swinging door that leads to your kitchen, half empty tray of jell-o shots and the glass punch bowl you grabbed on the way balanced in your hands. thankfully nobody was in your kitchen, and the sight of emptiness has you breathing in relief.

you loved having everyone at your place and you especially loved how everyone felt comfortable in dressing up and allowing you, jack and luke to host - but you couldn't wait for the night to be over. you always underestimated the hassle of hosting, and this night is proving that.

you fan your warm face with a gloved hand, trying to cool yourself off. your free hand is pouring some koolaid mix into the empty punch bowl, the powered crystals becoming liquid as they touch the orange juice and sprite concoction.

the door creaks, alerting you as somebody enters your once quiet kitchen. your shoulders deflate naturally, and your already preparing for another task or hosting duty that you'd have to attend to.

you look over your shoulder and are met with the comforting gaze of your best friend. luke smiles softly at you, which makes him look extra cute in his dalmatian outfit. "hey," luke starts, making his way over you, "I haven't seen you all night. you okay?"

the relief floods through your body, but a different wave of emotion quickly replaces any prior ones. you feel yourself wanting to cry, because no, you're not doing okay. "i'm stressed, lukey, i'm sorry. I love hosting but my costume is so hot that i feel permanently wet from how much i've been sweating. my body hurts and i'm tired and I feel like the list of things I need to do is endless and-" you exhale, dropping the wooden mixing spoon to the counter. "respectfully I can't wait for it to end."

luke frowns, reaching you in two long strides. "don't apologize for feeling overwhelmed." he shrugs, glancing over his shoulder quickly, "it's definitely more people than I expected."

you sniffle, laughing gently as you nod in agreement. "definitely."

he smiles softly, and like he's done a million times before, luke gently reaches out, his thumb swiping under your eye to brush any fallen tears. "let's head up to the roof for a bit," he hums, a slight frown tugging his lips, "get some air."

you exhale shakily. "jack needs the punch though."

"fuck him and fuck the punch," luke tells you sternly, "they can survive without it for a little bit, okay?"

"okay," you whisper in agreement.

you live on the top floor of your condo, so the journey to the buildings rooftop wasn't long. luke leads you up the small flight of stairs and out onto the decorated deck like he's done many times, guiding you over to your and his claimed spot.

immediately, you fall back dramatically into the lounger, eyes meeting the starry night sky above. you can feel like you can breath properly, and the only noise you can hear is the city below.

luke smiles at your now closed eyes and starfish pose, making his way over to his favourite green lounger beside you, mimicking your laying down position. he tucks his arm behind his head, using his own forearm as a pillow as he looks at the stars.

a beat passes.

"i'm sorry you're stressed." luke tells you quietly.

you open your eyes, turning your head towards him. luke is already watching you, eyes guilty and frown present.

you shake your head at him, dismissing his apology. after all, he didn't do anything wrong. "it's fine, luke, really."

"I just don't like seeing you struggling," he admits.

"if anything," you start sincerely, "you've made my night 100 times better in like the 5 minutes i've spent with you - which by the way, is crazy, how is this the first time since you got here that we've hung out."

"I know," luke smiles, "i've missed you."

you eye him teasingly, a pout forming on your face. "did my little dalmatian miss his master?" you question in an animated baby voice, one of your hands reaching out to poke his ribs.

luke jolts away from your jab, pulling a disgusted face in favour of your baby voice. regardless of his expression, he was laughing at your question. "you're a weirdo."

"yeah but i'm your favourite weirdo," you say matter of factly, turning your entire body towards him on top of your blue coloured lounger.

luke smirks, "you're definitely top 10."

"top 10?" you screech with a laugh, "not even top 5....I really gotta up my game. who's my competition?"

luke kisses his teeth, in a deep faux thought as he hums. "well, obviously borat is up there."

"obviously," you repeat.

"and my friend y/n is up there too - she's the weirdest one of all." luke sends you another teasing glance, "instead of being normal and saying 'butterflies in my stomach', she calls them ladybirds like a grandma and she eats ranch with almost everything."

you smile, "she sounds hot."

luke tongues his cheek, eyes finding the stars again. another beat passes, the two of you enjoying each others company in silence of city nightlife.

the crinkling of a bag has your brows furrowing, glancing back at luke just as he pulls out a half empty bag of cheeto's. "hungry?" he asks you, holding out the open bag in your direction.

you grab a handful of cheesy sticks, "I didn't even know your onesie had pockets." you tell him with a snicker, plopping two cheetos into your mouth.

"this dalmatian is full of surprises," luke says between chews of the monster handful of chips he'd previously shoved in his mouth.

you snort, grabbing another handful. "of course he is." you're thankful that luke had miraculously snuck cheetos from the party out to the roof, because you think the last time you ate was breakfast. your stomach rumbles at the thought. you swear, your best friend knows you better than you know yourself. "I should've known you'd bring snacks."

luke eyes you with faux suspicion, sucking his thumb clean of cheese dust. "are you calling me fat?"

"luke," you laugh, head lolling away from him and his teasing comments. "you're insufferable."

a heavy drop of water hits your face, starling you. another one follows quickly after, hitting the round of your cheek before sliding down to your ear.

"what the hell," luke mumbles. you eye him quickly, watching as he wipes the few drops of rain off his face. "is that rain?"

you roll your eyes gently, "yes, luke, it's rain."

at your words, the water seems to unleash from the gray night clouds, a thick downfall of rain pouring over you and luke. you sit up quickly, squinting towards the sky. your faux fur coat is quickly becoming drenched, sticking to your skin uncomfortably. "let's go before my lashes fall off." you sigh gently - the thought of heading back into the hectic environment of your condo sounded anything but desirable.

as if luke can sense your hesitation, he gets to his feet quickly, stepping into your line of sight. the dog ears on his onesie are dripping with water, flopping pathetically as he looks at you. he wipes his face of rain, "not yet - let's just stay."

you sigh his name, "it's raining."

"so?" he shrugs, costume sagging down his body, heavy with rain.

"so," you breathe an amused laugh, "we will get wet."

"nothing wrong with a little bit of water," you can see luke smirk through the heavy rain, and you can't help your own lips from tugging upwards at the sight.

you exhale gently, "I don't know."

luke dismisses your hesitation, grabbing a hold of your soaked gloved hands and pulling you towards him, bringing you both farther out the roof deck. "just one dance before we go back to the party - I haven't gotten to dance with you allllll night."

you let him drag you wordlessly, giving him a deadpanned looked.

"plus you deserve a dance - my hard working host." luke adds cheekily. his one hand slides around your waist, pulling you against his front - swaying you to imaginary music gently.

"kiss ass," you mumble, voice just notable over the sound of rain pelting the concrete rooftop. you can feel luke's chest rumble with laughter, his fingers flexing around your hand. "you always dance without music hughes?"

he licks his teeth, looking down at you. your skin looks so soft and dewy from the rain, your eyes dilated from the dark atmosphere. you are blinking up at him gently, your eyelashes wet in a way that makes you look even more beautiful. luke clears his throat, spinning you around dramatically - just barley stopping himself from slipping on the slick ground in the process. "only with you."

luke pulls away from you quickly, but you don't have time to question him before his grip on your hand tightens and he's twirling you back into him. you screech gently, the movement taking you by surprise.

"so you only dance with me or you dance with others but they get the privilege of dancing with music?" you ask him teasingly - this time it's you who is twirling luke around, and the sight of your 6ft2 best friend spinning in a soaked dalmatian onesie was unbeatable.

luke comes back towards you, taking his original position with his strong forearm around your torso, interlocking your fingers together in a waltz like stance. "I only dance with you," he whispers through the rain, "and you're the only one i'll ever dance with - especially in the cold rain without music." he tries to tease you, but his words fall on deaf ears.

you're looking at him with a swirl of emotion in your eyes and your heart beating heavily against your rib cage.

luke seems to stop as well, looking down at you with just as much admiration and tenderness that you're surely showing him. he visibly swallows, his adam's apple bobbing against his throat.

you watch luke's eyes fall to your lips, swiping over them before finding your eyes once again. at first you think you imagine it, but then quickly his eyes dart back to your red lips and the ladybirds start going frantic in your stomach.

was luke about to kiss you?

your blinks start to slow naturally, preparing to shut fully as luke begins to inch in closer to your face, leaning over you in a way that most definitely was uncomfortably straining the muscles in his back.

the door to the rooftop swings open with a squeak before bagging against the wall loudly - echoing all around. startled, you and luke jump away from one another, breathing heavily as your adrenaline comes to a spike.

your body feels freezing without luke's pressed against it, and you shiver uncomfortably, wrapping your soaked fur coat around yourself further.

jack is eyeing you both through the october rain, "hey," he starts, adjusting the plastic firefighter helmet onto his outgrown head of hair. "i've been looking for you guys! y/n we're out of chip dip."

you start walking towards the middle hughes sibling. "sorry, i'll get the other one out the fridge." you sigh, brushing past him and back into the dry hallway of your building.

luke closes his eyes, exhaling loudly.

"you good?" jack asks once luke makes his way over, eyeing his brother suspiciously. "what where you two even doing out here - it's raining."

luke sends his brother a glare, "I know that," he walks back into the building,wiping his face clean of all lingering rain water. "you're so annoying." he quickly walks away from his older brother, leaving him by the door.

jack throws his hands up, "what did I do?"

+ one: christmas

sabrina carpenter's heavenly voice slinks through the warm home, nestling in your ears comfortably. just over the music, you hear ellen hughes laugh happily at something your mom says - both of them in the kitchen, chatting and finishing off a bottle of wine while they clean up the dinner dishes.

jim and your father have been watching hockey tapes in the den, both quiet and content by themselves - them too indulging in a festive spiced wine.

it was christmas eve, after all.

you laugh warmly as quinn dips you low to the ground before pulling you back upwards quickly, sending a quick dizzy wave over you - which is probably the alcohols fault, not quinn's.

jack applauds quinn's elaborate dance moves, smiling with flushed cheeks as he watches you both from his spot sprawled on the worn brown love seat. "where'd you learn to dance like that huggy?" the middle hughes brother questions after a sip of beer, brows raised inquisitively.

quinn doesn't answer and he only spins you on the spot. you hum, "you jealous jack?" your body faces quinn once more, and your momentum has you stumbling slightly, tripping over your own feet and bumping into your dance partner.

"i'm not jealous of anything," jack snickers to himself like he's in on some crazy secret you aren't aware of - but you don't have the mental capacity to unfold that, still laughing and dancing on your family homes shaggy rug.

"yeah yeah whatever," quinn dismisses his brother teasing, rolling his eyes so only you catch it. you giggle at the sight, head falling onto his shoulder as you do.

the stairs creek under somebodies weight, and a moment later luke walks back into the family room empty handed, meeting your eyes. "I can't find it." he tells you.

you leave quinn, which was expected, turning your body and attention towards the youngest brother. "well where did you look?"

after your christmas dinner, ellen and your mom had started going on about childhood memories in their typical sappy mom fashion - laughing and crying while you and the boys eyed them with amusement. your mom was the one who brought up the scrapbook you and luke made together after your shared trip to the zoo on your 11th birthday, which was something even you had forgotten about.

jack had immediately starting pestering and teasing the two of you for being quote on quote cheesy (even though you were kids so obviously you were cheesy - but you digress.) jack begged for you to get the scrapbook so he could see it, and then once he started, quinn claimed he had never seen it and also wanted to look.

"i mean," you had started gently, eyeing luke with a hesitant smile, "it would be nice for us all to look at."

one look at your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, luke was sighing, pushing off the couch. "where is it?"

luke thumbs over his shoulder, "the hallway closet."

"really?" you hum, deep in thought as you think about where else your beloved shared scrapbook could possibly be hiding. "I mean, we could check my old bedroom closet? sometimes mom keeps stuff in there."

jack groans dramatically from the couch, head lulling back. "hurry up and go find it! I need to see that picture of the giraffe licking y/n's face."

quinn and jack crack up just at the thought of the picture you'd told them about - the image captured you shrieking as the giraffes purple tongue slides up your cheek.

"you whiny baby - we're going!" you huff, walking towards the stairs with luke in tow, both of you making the journey up the creaky staircase.

your room is located at the end of the hall, still painted the sage green you had chosen when you and your family first moved in. you dodge your suitcase that you left in the middle of the room, all of your clothes sprawled across the cream carpet from when you were frantically searching for your christmas sweater this morning.

"holy shit," luke says from behind you, eyes wide as he looks around your childhood room, "I haven't been in this room since like....highschool."

you open your closet doors with a small laugh, amused at your best friends amusement. you start rifling through the millions of photo albums and frames that your mom did fill your closet with - like you expected.

"oh my god, we were so little." luke smiles, picking up your lady bug decorated picture frame that was sitting on your tall dresser - right beside you original speak now CD and jewelry box. you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, smiling automatically at the sight of him looking at the picture. "god where are my front teeth?" he laughs, placing the frame back down.

it's a picture of you and luke when you were both 10, smiling happily poolside in your bathing suits - luke's akward grin made perfect by his lack of front teeth. you giggle with him, the memory of that picture just as fresh now as the day it was taken.

you rifled through a few more old photo albums until your fingers land on the tiger striped spine of your and luke's scrapbook. you gasp, "I found it!" you pull it out of the closet quickly, standing from your previously crouched position to once again face luke. you start flipping through the pages, giggling at the pictures as you do so. "this is amazing."

"dear diary," luke says with a laugh. you look up inquisitively, a quirk to your brow. he's got your fuzzy purple notebook clutched in his hand, flipped open to a random page. "it's y/n again and today i'm feeling a bit...funny." he reads your entry out loud, an amused smile on his face.

"oh god," you laugh, a hand covering your face in embarrassment- already cringing at your younger self.

luke's eyes light up as he reads the next line, laughing as he does so. "the day started absolutely amazing! it was my best friend luke's 11th birthday party! I can't believe he's 11 and in two more months i'll also be 11." he quotes you, "you were such an optimistic happy kid." he laughs.

your heart stops and you can feel your face fall. memories of the day you had wrote that specific diary entry come flooding back to you. you pale and your stomach plummets unpleasantly - you half a bottle of wine taunting you. "luke - give me the diary."

he's still laughing to himself, book propped open with a thumb and middle finger. he continues reading, "we all went to the arcade that luke and I have always wanted to go to together." he quotes you. he pauses, thinking back to that huge indoor party, "it was a sick arcade." luke hums.

you step towards him, "luke seriously lets go...jack and quinn are waiting." you're suprised at how fast your brain came up with an excuse to leave your room and the diary behind - your anxiety through the roof.

he couldn't fishing reading it.

he skims farther down the page, laughing loudly, quoting your writing more. "she was always around like an annoying little fly. lacey kept taking all of luke's attention away from me - you still sound like this by the way."

you try and lunge towards him and grab the diary, but luke is quicker than you (he always has been) and pulls the book farther out of reach. "i'm feeling jealous, diary. because luke is....special - you're too kind to me," he teases you.

"luke," you huff, hands trying to reach around him to grab the book once again, but he spins away, affectively dodging you once more. "please put that away"

luke continues to read the diary entry, your stomach plummeting deeper. "his soft curly hair and his bright eyes-"

"give that to me now." you panic, voice shaky as you beg. you make another attempt at getting your diary out of luke's hands, but he rushes towards the other side of the room, giggling at the writing of child you complimenting him.

luke starts again, "and when he smiles I get ladybugs in my stomach. I love -" he stops reading, face falling. you watch intently as luke's eyes dance over the rest of the lines on the page, reading your 11 year old self's love confession.

you're already thinking of excuses for the entry - you were just a kid and didn't know what love meant or what marriage meant. but you weren't 5 when you wrote it, you were almost a pre-teen who definitely knew what marriage was. that won't work.

you'd could say that lacey was just having you feeling weird and angry - like she always has, but that excuse doesn't seem plausible.

you watch luke anxiously and silently, knawing on your lip as a way to channel your nerves. you were already preparing for your friendship to plummet. now that luke has read your deepest darkest secret - the life long crush you've had on him - you were ready for him to not want to be your friend anymore.

logically, you know you should say something and at least try and convince him that it was nothing - after all it was almost a decade ago and you could play it off as a joke. but words don't come out, and you're stuck in a plummeting hole.

"wow," luke eventually mutters, closing your diary gently.

"luke," you whisper waterly, eyes following him as he walks your diary back over to your dresser, tucking it between taylor swift and framed pictures. you think you might start praying, desperate for luke to want to stay your friend or at least stay in your life - you can't imagine living without him.

"be honest with me," luke starts, "was this just a silly little crush or do you still...love me?"

you mumble his name again, eyes watering with a million emotions that you definitely weren't expecting to experience on christmas eve.

"y/n....tell me."

you meet his eyes, and all you can mutter is a quiet 'I still do', a tear falling down your face and dipping towards your collarbone.

a beat passes.

"well this is pretty embarrassing, right?" he says with a gentle laugh, running a hand over his head of curls in disbelief.

"what?" you mumble.

"I mean over a decade of loving each other in secret, neither of us ballsy enough to say anything- I wonder how many people knew." he laughs to himself, visibly thinking.

you shake your head, "wait what?"

luke steps towards you, closing the space between your bodies in favour of holding the side of your face, his thumb wiping away the trail of water from your tear, resting against your cheekbone affectionately. "I love you."

"you do?"

he nods, "of course I do, wanna read my endless texts from quinn and jack telling me to man up and confess my lifelong crush on you to prove it?" he challenges you teasingly, a playful tone accompanied by a tinge of nerves.

finally, you smile, lips tugging upwards as you reach out for him, your small hand gripping his wrist to keep him close to you. you shake your head, "no, I believe you."

luke laughs breathily, forehead touching yours as he brings your faces closer together. "thank god because those texts are embarrassing." his words are like a million tiny kisses, tickling your face in a way that has your nose scrunching.

"and you reading my diary wasn't?" you question with laughter.

"god no," luke dismisses, "it was cute."

"kiss ass," you smile, running the tip of your nose down the bridge of luke's, nudging your faces closer together. your other hand reaches for his waist, keeping him close.

"yeah." he agrees, free hand moving up to hold the other side of your face. luke smirks one more time before leaning in, finally kissing you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fluff #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl smut #nhl #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils #hockey imagine #hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #hockey blurb

602 notes · View notes

talesofesther · 1 year ago

Text

first in my heart

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.

A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.

Word count: 4,7k

Masterlist

"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.

To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.

And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.

Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.

He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.

Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.

It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.

The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.

You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.

With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.

"What are you up to, my sweet?"

The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.

The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.

You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."

You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.

Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"

The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."

Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."

He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.

You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.

Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.

He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.

And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"

A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.

You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.

The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.

When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.

You didn't.

You said you cared for him. You hugged him.

There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.

Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.

He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.

Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.

Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.

There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.

With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.

It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.

But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.

The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.

Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.

Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.

"Astarion?"

With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.

"Is everything okay?"

Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.

Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"

The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.

You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."

But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?

Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.

He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.

Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.

He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.

Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.

Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.

And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.

He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.

You could only hope he would adore it just as much.

It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.

Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.

You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.

Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.

You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.

With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.

You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.

"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.

You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.

"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.

You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."

His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.

"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.

A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.

You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.

For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.

You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.

"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.

Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.

"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"

You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."

A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.

You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.

Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.

The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.

A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.

He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.

People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.

Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.

Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.

You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.

Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.

"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.

"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."

Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.

There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.

Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.

You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.

When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."

You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #astarion fanfic #my story #astarion ancunin

2K notes · View notes