#i accepted a long time ago that the only reason i wanted to make new friends is because i had no robust in-person support network
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i know that when carlo suddenly decided that he needs to marry guy made a whole list in his head n like had a deadlines n shit. like it was some kind of a task he needed to do
#whole fkin campaign. idk still not sure how it was but man was in his peacock era for sure#n it's like i need to find a wife i need to make it in 2 (or whatever) months etc etc#but its like a bg task n he didn't speak bout it w others. like he just said that he needs to marry#also idk if i mentioned this but i wrote lauretta/carlo first meet long ago n she was w her fiance#i just listened to “pretty music” again sorry. i like that uh governor or tf this character is#changes his behaviour from one woman to another so real. n that fkin “but im a lucky guy who gets to dance w u”#and “since u know what i need i'll even take your lead” <- fr like im sure lauretta screwed him for several times#just to see if he's really serious good old manipulations w men nothing new nothing superstitious#upd. he probably made a mind budget for this (i mean finding a wife)#n bout lauretta screwing carlo its like in this ukranian song Ти ж мене пiдманула ти ж мене пiдвела#but since he's a strategist he's patient (like i wanted to accent this quality sm i wrote#that carlo started thinkin bout taking moretti's place back in 1932)#anyway. “Challenge accepted” situation and idk fr for some reason when it's carlo eddie lauretta it's always bout playing#so lauretta started playing n he entered this play too. i don't even think he was exactly mad (maybe only for the 1st time)#at this point i have a clear image of how they met n their first dates (cringe word) n how he proposed#ie how it started how it ended. ending was fast i believe (deadline is approaching 🤯)#what was in between i don't exactly know but i wondered just now if he also screwed lauretta (i think yes)#bc i don't knooowwww frrr all this is so bout playing to me#but bout ending its like. boss fight (<- sex) game credits (<- marriage) ((speedrun))#also i was thinkin if he even ever met lauretta's parents (i always thought that no but idk)#can imagine lauretta calling carlo a good friend. i also hm ok#i started to write a comic like a month ago just bout falcone polycule n it starts w#carlo who says that he finally needs to get married n lauretta's mother askin (in a pushing way) why#her n her fiance still aren't married like girl tf. she jinxed it i guess#upd. carlo/lauretta is funny in my head bc right before marriage he did fell in love lauretta didn't but guy's profitable we'll take him👍#she did only after marriage i think bc it was the time when u can finally relief bc it's over#u don't need to think bout no yes no no yes yes will it work or won't etc#woman was able to fucking chill at last. she got the money sorry i mean the man#he's not runnin away let's finally look who the fuck is even this man. why he won't shut up bout astronomy can i get a divorce <- jk#but yeah “я тобi брехала” is so lauretta right after marriage to me (“i dont even know the color of ur hair”)
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the people who make fun of aplatonics don't actually know what being aplatonic is, or what it means to be aplatonic
#no you fucking idiot it doesn't mean you're friendless jfc#at least not in the way you're thinking#most self-id'ing aplatonics are those of us who have non-desire to form new friendships due to trauma survival#we might form bonds with people online and consider them friends and we might have one to a few in-person/local friends we've retained#or who we're 'friendly' with as associates or acquaintances#some of us id this way because we've accepted and embraced that *because* trying to force ourselves to initiate the formation of friendship#is so traumatizing and/or retraumatizing we put our trauma-related recovery and/or neurodivergent boundaries first#i accepted a long time ago that the only reason i wanted to make new friends is because i had no robust in-person support network#other than literally my brother who is not able to support me the way a friend of no familial relation might#do you get what i'm saying?#i have friends and acquaintances#on occasion i end up meeting people that gradually become closer to me and who i eventually consider friends#but my desire to go out and form friendships with people actively is gone#i realized a long time ago that i didn't actually need to form new friendships nor did i want to - for the sake of being friends w/ people#when i meet someone and we hit it off i don't think 'i want to be their friend'. i used to think i did. but that wasn't it.#and the obsession people have with calling this unhealthy is just frustrating to me#you know what's more unhealthy? putting myself through the same damn friend-seeking routine i was forced to do for ABA therapy growing up#it's retraumatizing it doesn't align with what my needs are#as long as my needs are met and i don't feel distressed why should it fucking matter to anyone?
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A duty— Capitano
Synopsis: You were set to marry a fatui... Wait, is that a fucking harbinger?!
Wc: 3.3k
Warning(s): fem reader for this one, reader gets called "wife", Capitano is described to have dark blue eyes (i swear i did my research and they said yes to dark blue eyes), MDNI masturbation but no sex between them.
Notes: don't ask the reason why you are in an arranged marriage, my brain is fried. You can come up with your own reasons ! Wrote this with my eyes cursing at me to sleep so half not proofread. Part 2 is out here. Part 3 is out here!
Tick tock.
You watched as the clock ticked louder than usual, cringing to yourself when the sound became unpleasant to you, it was ringing in your ears.
Even the fatui around you were like statue's, you considered for a minute to check if they were even alive and breathing.
The door then swinged opened, everyone's head suddenly lowering slightly which made you even more confused, but you mimicked their gestures nonetheless for respect.
Heavy footsteps echoed in the room, the sound only getting louder and heavier the closer it got you.
The steps finally stopped, and your glance up to see a big—no, giant man standing right infront of you. He seemed to be wearing a helmet to cover his face, long black hair that protrutes from the back of his helmet and over his shoulders, and the big coat that was full of fur draped around his shoulders.
You must say, he went all out with his appearance as a fatui.
"Are you perhaps..." You started, breaking the silence that hung think in the air, "... The person who I'm arranged to marry?" You finish off, tilting your head curiously.
He doesn't answer immediately, rather, he looks down at you, observing your features which makes you wipe your sweaty hands to your sides.
"Il Capitano," he finally spoke, a raspy voice, you noted. Capitano extended his arm out for you, and you willingly accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.
"Member of the fatui Harbingers."
His next words made your hand freeze. Did he just say Harbinger? Not even a normal fatui like you thought, but a whole harbinger. Standing right before you, and shaking your hand.
Well you were screwed because what the hell have you gotten yourself into.
You both were quiet now, staring at eachother that it's becoming almost painfully awkward.
"Your name?" He asks, letting your hand go and it's like you were snapped back to reality when you immediately blurt out your name.
He repeats your name like you were on his kill-off list, but that was just overthinking on your part.
"I'd like your company from now on." He announced, stepping a tad closer to you which made you hold in your breath.
"then i shall be at your company..." Giving him your best small smile, you bowed your head again.
•••
Your wedding basically consisted of a witness and marriage papers that needed your signature. You didn't even get the chance to wear a traditional wedding dress nor have a honeymoon, which you don't think is necessary for now since everything was going too fast for your liking.
And Marina, your new personal maid, has become your new friend in this big estate of Capitano's, teaching you everything you must and mustn't do. Kind of like a 101 guide on how to be a wife.
Ever since that day a two months ago, you have not done anything but cause trouble.
You wanted to go out? Well you need your husband's permission. You want to eat something? Ask Marina first and she'll whip it for you no problem, and no you're not allowed to cook by yourself. You bombarded Capitano with questions about himself, but his answers wouldn't be enough as they were about a word or a sentence long.
As boring as that is, this is your life now for... Archons know how long. But you remember it being temporary, if your memory did not fail you.
Capitano had returned back to the estate for the night, and for the first time, you greeted him at the front door with a smile, wishing you could see him smile back at you.
"My lord," you bow elegantly like how Marina taught you, speaking even softly like nothing ever happened a week ago, the fit you remember throwing at him, demanding an answer on why you couldn't do anything around.
The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the clanking of his armor as he took a step closer to you, his towering figure cast an intimidating shadow upon you. "It is rare," he spoke in a blunt tone, "to see you this obedient." Capitano paused, his gaze scrutinizing your every move. "You have been behaving recently?"
You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your clothes nervously like you have been caught, a nervous quiet laugh escaping your lips, "i believe I've always behaved."
Capitano let out a terse sigh at your answer, his eyes unflinching through the slits of his helmet. "To your luck," he muttered, "you have been... tolerable." The word 'tolerable' hung heavily in the air, making it clear that it was the most positive adjective he could summon about you.
"However," he added after a few moments, "you seem more compliant than usual today. This is an... interesting change." His tone was questioning, as if hinting that he was wary of your compliance, expecting a hidden scheme behind it.
"Shall we have dinner?" You change the topic, changing your position to stand by his side so that both of you could walk to the dining room together. Capitano nods curtly, acknowledging your suggestion. He allows you to approach, though there is a stiffness in his movements as he lets you stand by his side.
The two of you begin walking to the dining room, your husband's steps were heavy, and it was evident that he was still in his full armor, the sound of his footsteps filling the hall.
"You are not usually the one to suggest dinner," he commented, "I thought today was nice... Despite how i always fight you, forgive me." you mumble apologetically.
You become quiet when he doesn't answer back, your hands clasped infront of you instead.
You both soon reached the dining hall, now sat opposite eachother on the dining table, Capitano's gaze remained fixed upon you as you both sat across each other, the coldness in his eyes didn't waver as he observed you intently. The silence seemed to thicken as the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against the ceramic dinnerware.
"How was your trip?" You asked casually while stuffing some veggies in your mouth.
"The trip was... uneventful," he replied tersely, pausing briefly before continuing. "The usual Fatui business, nothing that concerns you, wife." His words were as biting as ever, indicating that he wasn't keen on discussing his business matters with you.
"nofing mfun?" You ask again with your mouth too full this time, "don't speak with your mouth full of food." You swallow your food down when you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his tone, maybe he was even frowning if you could see him behind his helmet.
"i will retire to my chambers after this," you place down the silverware on the tablecloth to reach for the glass of water next to you. Capitano doesn't answer, but he nods slowly in return.
•••
The world was still and the moon illuminated the grounds outside, casting a soft glow upon the landscape. You could hear the occasional sound of crickets and the whispered rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside the expansive estate.
The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seemingly longer than the last as you anticipated Capitano's return this time. You fidgeted with the sheets, as you waited, you recalled Marina's words, a distant memory echoing in your head, "It is custom for a wife to wait for her husband to return before she retires to bed." You never did that, no. You would always sleep before he did and he would always wake up before you did. It was rare to even see him on your side of the bed, only sometimes when you would wake up from a sudden heavy weight shifting next to you.
Despite being married for quite some time, the connection between you two was still distant and cold. Capitano didn't seem to care for you on any emotional level, instead seeing you as a mere accessory to his life as a mighty Capitano of the Fatui Harbingers. A possession rather than a wife, you thought.
Capitano's steps echoed through the room as he stepped into your bedroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He closed the door behind him with a thump, shutting out the outside world and isolating the two of you in the room.
He observed you quietly for a moment, "You're not in bed yet?"
"i was waiting for you."
"And why, pray tell, were you waiting for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Marina..." You mumble, standing up from the bed while looking away in a bit of embarrassment, "she taught me it was custom for a wife to wait for her husband."
Capitano seemed even more surprised upon hearing your answer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Marina... I see," he said slowly, of her name sending a ripple of irritation through him. Capitano disliked Marina's influence on you and how she seethe mentioned to be teaching you things.
He strode closer to you, by now you were used to his presence that it would not make you involuntary step back, you instead wait for his next move.
Lifting his hand to take a few strands of your hair was the last thing you expected. The strands resting on his hand as he lifted it closer to his helmet, almost like a gesture of kissing your hair which made you blink rapidly.
"You don't have to," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing the strands, "don't have to listen to Marina or anyone. You may do your own thing in this estate. I just want you well taken care of and safe."
You think you may have just fallen in love with the man because... Why is your heart beating so fast that it could explode? Or wait, can he hear it?
Capitano then let go of your hair, walking past you as he started loosening the straps of his armor, "it is late," he muttered with a rasp, his hands working quickly to remove his armor. The sound of armor being unthreaded echoed through the room, punctuated by the clinks of metal.
Taking off his helmet next so casually made your eyebrows furrow and sit back on the bed with your head tilted to get a closer look at him.
His eyes were glowing dark blue, the most beautiful shade of blue you think you've ever seen. The prettiest face too despite his dark and intimidating aura.
"you're beautiful." You whispered in awe, though Capitano, who was half-way through removing his armor, paused for a moment as he heard your words. He wasn't expecting such a compliment from you. It was rare for you to praise him, preferring to defy him more often than not.
"Beautiful?" he repeated, his voice gruff, you noticed his expressions and tried to act cool, your fingers nervously scratching your neck out of habit when you get shy.
"You're beautiful too, my wife." This completely caught you off gaurd, but it doesn't stop you from smiling and laughing it off quietly.
"Goodnight." Your head rests on the pillow, and this time you face him in your sleep, and he makes the effort to mimick your gestures.
"Goodnight."
•••
"Marina, where is my wife?" That was the first thing he asked your personal maid the moment he arrived back from his mission. His head looking around rather than looking down directly at Marina.
"The lady should be at her chambers."
"She's not."
"What?" Poor Marina's eyes widened, she was sure she just gave you a basket of fruits and snacks in your room, even asking you if you needed anything else.
"... Forgive me, my lord. She's probably in the bat—"
"She's not in the bathroom." He replied in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down her spine.
Where are you, my lady? Marinas thought through gritted teeth before exhaling out shakily, "i shall go find her at once." Marina began looking around every corner of the estate, and each room she opened without you in it, she would lose two years of her life with Capitano following her.
You couldn't have escaped, right?
Finally when she hurriedly went to the back of the estate, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting outside on the grass with the basket of goods she handed you earlier.
You wave your hands and both Capitano and Marina with a bright smile, causing his shoulders to relax when you were at last seen having fun by yourself.
"you're going to get me killed one day." Marina mouthed at you, but since there was some distance between you both, you just smiled and shrugged at her.
Capitano approached you slowly, his purposeful stride carrying him towards you with measured steps. You were perched on the grass, happily savoring the treats in your hands, when he suddenly materialized before you. "Sit." You pat the space next to you, to which he obliged without hesitation.
"Have you ever done this before?"
"No."
"Never? It's nice."
"You do seem to be enjoying yourself." He hums thoughtfully, and your smile widens, "The last couple of months have been interesting, and i get to know you better now." You say before popping a blueberry in your mouth to chew on.
"Blueberry?" You offer, raising your hand while holding a blueberry in between your thumb and forefinger.
You might think your husband is shy by how he looks around at first before taking off his helmet, cute. Eventually he leans to take the fruit between his teeth before chewing silently, the slight fruit juice glistening on his lips before his tongue along with his thumb swiped over his lower lip.
"you know," you suddenly speak, drawing your hips near him, "we've never kissed yet."
He pauses, staring at you while thinking deep about it, "does it bother you?"
"No, does the idea bother you?" Your question held a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.
Without a warning, his hand held your left cheek with gentleness, his lips slotting against yours for three seconds max before it ended.
What?
Your eyes were wide open the whole three seconds of it too!
"What was that?" The horror in your eyes was evident, not because you were scared, but because you were caught off guard and your eyes were fucking open. Capitano, upon seeing your eyes, he immediately tried pulling away, thinking he might've scared you in some way.
But you were quick to hold his wrist firmly so it wouldn't leave your cheek. "I liked it." You blurt out with the reddest cheeks ever, and he's almost amused.
"But it was too fast," you clear your throat before tilting your head closer, "may i, husband?" How can he refuse when you asked so nicely too?
Your lips latch onto his for the second time, and this time, you were going to give him a proper kiss. With your lips moving with ease against his, the sounds of soft smacks of your lips together filling the air which makes the tips of his ears go red.
You don't continue after both of you pull away to catch your breath, your eyes staring deeply into eachother as he pressed his lips into a thin line.
"Let's not do this again," your heart almost drops at his words. Did you mess up again? Did he not like how it felt—
"In public, i meant. I wouldn't like anyone to see you in such a state."
You can definitely hear the crickets in your head. "So we can continue kissing?"
"Mm," he only hums back before reaching for his helmet to put it back on. "I have to leave, i will be back by midnight," and when he stands up, it was your cue to stand up to bid him goodbye.
"Take care, husband." You wrap you arms around him, and he circles his arms back around you into a tight hug. It was not your first hug together, so you got used to the feeling of not being able to breath for a couple of seconds before of his tight arms around you.
•••
Capitano expected you to be awake when he returned from a few errands he had to run earlier, expecting you to wait for for him so that both of you could sleep at the same time ever since you did that day.
But you were asleep, peaceful and relaxed on your shared bed. You, wearing nothing but a silky nightgown like you always do, the blanket shuffled messily on you which revealed your legs slightly parted, and your arms hugging the pillow underneath you.
You looked like an angel to him, so vulnerable.. so pretty like this—god was he pent up from today.
He hands clenched tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white as he looked away, instead busying himself in taking off his usually neat coat which was now covered in few splatters of crimson red.
The sound of the running water masked his muttering, instantly regretting his thoughtlessness. As he grabbed the bar of soap, he began to wash vigorously, trying to expel the memories of combat and the musky scent of carnage. His body couldn't be gentler with himself though, as he massaged his muscles that ached from the constant strain.
His heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered back to you. You were the sweetest thing in his life, and he would never ever hurt you, in fact, he would rather die than have your precious skin scratched. Or even cutting off the heads without hesitating if one would hurt you.
He hates himself for envisioning your body under his, or thinking about how skilled you would be with your tongue or hands. he thought he was a selfish lustful man for thinking of such thing when you were sound asleep and tired.
Unable to bear it any longer, he reached for himself, stroking slowly at first before heavier thrusts took over all while imagining how it would feel like to be inside your soft and warm cunt instead of his hard and rough fist. The steam from the shower served to muffle his low groans, half in agony, half in ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he pictured your warm smile or shy and embarrassed facial expressions as his release came steadily forth, his forehead hit the cool tiles as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.
After taking a moment to get himself together, he turned off the water and faced the mirror. How can he go back to bed after jerking off to the thought of your smile and sleeping figure? He would very much rather bang his head on the wall.
But he dried off with a sigh and headed back to bed, trying to keep his eyes half closed with his back turned to you as he sinked down on the mattress, taking a bit of blanket to cover himself with his eyes forced shut.
Your sudden arms that enveloped around him from behind is what gave Capitano a scare. A literal scare to the big man.
Were you awake this whole time? Did you hear him back in the bathroom? Was he too loud?
But your soft snores made his stiff shoulders sag in relief, indicating you were still in deep in your dreams.
He decided to turn around to face you, looking down at how innocent you looked, how the moonlight seemed to glow on your face from the window, giving your features a glowy shine.
"You have ruined me," he whispered carefully while brushing off strands of your hair away from your face to press a goodnight kiss on your forehead. "I am yours, ruin me, break me, and love me as much as you want, my wife."
#il capitano#genshin impact#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x reader#il capitano x reader#capitano#capitano x reader#fatui harbingers#genshin harbingers#capitano x you#capitano smut#genshin impact capitano
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒
and the kids ask them how did they fall in love.
pairing: dad & husband! alhaitham, cyno, kaedehara kazuha, kaveh, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x fem! reader
cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. use of farsi, arabic and japanese terms. there's a lot of dialogues but there's a plot. approximately 7.3k words. not beta-read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
Wriothesley
You watched Cameron and Éveline playing on the other side of the room as you tirelessly documented the files that had arrived from the courthouse that afternoon.
Wriothesley have been patrolling the prison’ Forbbiden Zone all day after receiving an information about some anomaly within the fortress, so you barely had seen your husband except for the brief greeting at breakfast.
Distracted with your work, you didn't even notice that both children had stopped building the wooden blocks and Cameron was sitting in the chair in front of you while Eve made herself comfortable on the sofa behind him.
“Mummy?” he called and you looked up from the papers at him and smiled.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“How did you and Daddy fall in love?”
Your son's sudden question took you by surprise, leaving you stunned for a few seconds. But you soon found yourself chuckling and ignoring your work to pay attention to the boy.
“Why the sudden curiosity, Cam? That's pretty out of your character, you know.”
Cameron shrugged.
“I just want to know how you and Daddy met.”
Smiling softly, you nodded.
“Very well. Let’s see… It all began a long time ago, when mommy was sentenced to the Fortress of Meropide,” you narrated in a reflexive tone and waved for Éveline to come closer to sit next to her friend.
“Back then, mama wasn’t the person she is today, you see. I was rude, I was always angry, I picked fights with anyone who crossed my way and I didn't let anyone get close to me. You could say I wasn't a very nice person to be around, and because I was in prison, it also meant I wasn't a good person either.”
“I simply couldn't get used to life down here as most of the prisoners do, nor do I could accept the sentence that was given to me. Therefore, I rebelled in every way I could and participated in the fights in the hope that someone would see some value in me and would send me back to the capital. But, well, at that time we had a not very nice director and the inmates cared more about themselves than about others.”
“Lo and behold, a year passed, your dad ascended as Duke and I was still hoping to be able to get out of here.”
“But then, the night of a new duel had arrived and barely I knew it'd be a night that'd change my life forever. It was the night I finally met your dad. Or better saying, where he became interested in me.”
“I remember it was a quick fight. I was already assured of victory but my opponent decided to bravely face me anyway. Although I was no longer the girl I was a year ago, I was still merciless in the face of a rival. Mostly of the Pankration Ring’s regulars knew my name because I made of it my reputation. That was one of the reasons your dad went to watch the fight that night. He wanted to see who was the person who was sending dozens and dozens of prisoners to Sigewinne,” you smirked at the kids making them giggling.
“When the fight ended, he came to me wanting to know more about me and asking all kinds of questions. Nevertheless I wasn't interested in relationship, preferring to stay away from every one of the Fortress. Furthermore, I had an exclusive grudge against men so I couldn’t stand his person,” you paused the story to see if Cameron would react negatively to this detail but the boy only seemed more interested by it.
“I don't remember very well what I said to him, however, it was clear that I wasn't interested and didn't want any kind of flattery from him. Needless to say it didn't work because your dad is as stubborn as a mule.”
“From that night, Wriothesley made a promise to himself to get closer to me and he fulfilled it very well as he kept following me everywhere.”
“It was extremely annoying and I couldn't understand what his curiosity about me was. After all, when I first arrived here he had never shown any sign of acknowledging my existence, so why at that moment?”
“Even though I still didn't understand him and tried at all costs to escape his sight, Wriothesley always found a way to find me and include me in his conversations. It was irritating to get so much attention from the new director of the Fortress of Meropide, and it was even scarier for me not to know what was his intentions either. But, over time, I got used to his presence and even started to yearn for it…”
“A couple of months later I dared to ask him why he insisted on getting closer to me,” you snorted at the memory as a small smile stretched your lips.
“What did he say?” Éveline asked curious.
“He said he wanted me to know that even though I kept pushing everyone away from me, he’d always come back. Because even though I thought I was doing better on my own, no one deserves to be alone and remain unseen.”
“It wasn’t the answer I expected but I felt like all my feelings—all the frustration, anger, sadness, and pain I was carrying at that time were validated, and he was seeing each of them.”
“After that, it took a while longer for me to accept that there was someone who cared about me, but I slowly opened my heart to him.”
“When I finally came to terms with my feelings, I still tested Wriothesley's loyalty a little bit more. I must say it was worth it to see him working hard for two years. Nonetheless, he was and still is the best choice I’ve ever made,” you finish the story and the children clap excitedly making you laugh in amusement.
Unexpectedly, a third person also claps and you see the said person leaning against the stair railing, smirking at you—probably he had been there since the beginning of the story.
“So you mean that all that time I was trying my best to have my feelings acknowledged you were testing me? That hurts, doll.”
You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to the children who were entertained by the scene.
“Just like I’ve said. It was worth each second.”
Neuvillette
“Mummy, daddy. How did you fall in love?” Éveline asks suddenly as she makes her presence known in your husband’s office, making both of you stop your tasks to stare at her.
“I was playing with Cam today and he asked his mama how she and Monsieur Wriothesley met and fell in love, and it was a very nice story! I want to know how you and papa met and fell in love too!” she says with a rare enthusiasm that makes you chuckle and Neuvillette smiles fondly.
“My my, if my beautiful Line isn’t curious today, huh?” you tease your daughter and leave a quick peck on her pale cheek soon after. “Well, let me see… Everything began when mama was sentenced to prison,” you chuckle when Éveline's blue eyes widen.
“No need to get your little head stewing with that, angel. It was years ago and mama didn’t stay there too long either. You see, your mom used to do some… inappropriate stuff and I ended up going to trial for that.”
Neuvillette snorted softly from his desk.
“Inappropriate is a very polite way for your mom to say she used to be involved with a lot of illegal matters, darling,” Neuvillette pointed out with a small smirk himself as he stopped his reading to stare at you.
“Oh, shush you, Neuvi. You say that as if it was an unforgivable crime when it wasn’t,” you roll your eyes in fake annoyance making Éveline giggle, “As I was saying, angel. Mama went to trial and, of course, your papa was the only one to conduct it.”
“You see, I already knew who was he—actually, who didn't? The just and benevolent but impartial Iudex of Fontaine. Although, I had never seen him in person until the day I had to show at court.”
“At that time I’d never admit it but I was very anxious to meet the head judge of Fontaine. When you get involved in reckless things, you think you're smarter than everyone and will never get caught, but little did I know that your dad had been tracking and watching me for ages.”
“And then when I finally stood in front of him, my nervousness strangely disappeared and became more like a curiosity. After all, I had only heard about the Iudex's morals and not his personality much less his appearance, so it was clear to everyone at the court that I was very intrigued by that man standing above me.”
“As the trial proceeded, he gave me a five-year sentence in the Fortress of Meropide which I managed to reduce by eight months for good behavior,” you winked at your daughter who kept listening to your storytelling, dazzled. “Not only did I refuse to be there in prison away from my own business, but I felt more motivated to return to the surface to learn more about your dad.”
“When I finally got back to the city, I used all my means to get your dad’s attention again—which actually worked several times since he likes to keep an eye on Fontaine’s order.”
“Then, the months were passing by and my curiosity and interest just kept growing. And suddenly, I caught myself falling in love with all the things I was learning about him.”
“Even though it was fun to use of wrong ways to get the attention of the man you like, it was also tiring. And that situation was also reaching a point where I felt like your dad wasn't giving me the signals I was expecting him to do, so I was also getting stressed. Maybe he isn’t as fond of me as I am of him, that was what I thought.”
“Nevertheless, I'm a very resilient woman. I didn't let myself sink into self-pity, much less feel sad about the lack of reciprocity in love so I opened a new business here in the capital saying I wanted to live a peaceful life, and see where it’d take me. Fortunately here I could make great friends, a lot of associates, and even more trades.”
“And contrary to my guessing, Neuvi eventually started to visit my store where we had more appropriate interactions and talks, much for my joy.”
“I kept falling in love with him every day, you know? Thankfully your dad is a gentleman and he didn't take too long to ask me on a date. From then on, we became almost inseparable. That’s our story.”
As you finish your love story, you could see your daughter’s eyes sparkling like two beautiful gems and a huge smile shining on her face. It made you happy that she enjoyed the story of how her parents met instead of getting mixed feelings by it—after all, the things you still do are better kept hidden until she’s older enough to understand them.
You and your family kept talking about the said topic for a while, but eventually, you had to say goodbye to them to leave for a meeting with some partners from your business which you already were late for.
Unbeknownst to you though, Éveline and Neuvillette who were still in the office, shared your love story once again. But this time, it was a version you still haven’t heard.
Perhaps you'd never know either as it became a secret shared only between father and daughter.
“I fell in love with your mom at the very moment I saw her.”
Lyney
The twins' little nimble footsteps could be heard throughout the house before it took them to the kitchen where you and Lyney were busy cleaning the lunch dishes.
“Mommy, mommy! Uncle Freminet just read a book to Quentin and me and we want to know how you and Daddy fell in love too!” exclaimed Corinne, smiling excitedly.
“Oh my. That was quite sudden,” you laughed as you dried the last dish of the day and put it away immediately to give your full attention to the children, “I bet it was a very romantic book for you to be so excited about.”
“It was!”, they exclaimed together making you and Lyney laugh.
“I don't see why not, then. It may not be as exciting as the tale Freminet read to you, but I think you'll like it too,” you say sitting at the table and placing Corinne on your lap while Lyney does the same with Quentin.
“Well, I think our story is much more charming than the one in the book that Uncle Freminet read to you,” replies your husband, sending you a wink, “You could say that like a fairy tale, the magician prince fell in love at first sight with the most beautiful princess in the entire kingdom.”
“Back in those days, a troupe of nomadic artists traveled throughout Teyvat bringing joy and laughter to their audiences. It was your mom’s family.”
“They traveled across all nations enchanting its residents with their music, acrobatics, but especially with their dance. And, believe it or not, they had never come to Fontaine until that day.”
“As a lover of the art of entertainment, I had to see for myself what a performance by the Pathfinder’s Troupe would be like, they who had a reputation that extended beyond the stars in the sky! Furthermore, as a colleague in the same department, I also wanted to give my final verdict. But truth to be told, daddy was just a little bit of jealous because of all the attention mama’s group was getting at that time,” he made a face at this specific memory that made you and the kids laugh.
“So when the night of the show came, I finally understood why they were such a success. All the troupe members had a bright, warm smile, seeming to love what they were doing. The music was loud and happy and even though you didn't know the language they sang in, you wanted to join them. It was a simple show, but funny and welcoming.”
“But then when it came time for your mom to take the stage, there wasn't a person in the audience who wasn't dazzled by her. Including me,” Lyney pauses as he smiles at the memory running through his mind. You smiled back.
“It was, and still is, the most beautiful performance I had ever seen. Not only did your mom look like a goddess at that moment, with her traditional clothing, makeup, and gold jewelry, but she mesmerized the audience with her movements.”
“Unfortunately, her dance didn’t last long and she soon left the stage, thanking us all for our presence.”
“Like several people enchanted by that beautiful dancer, I tried to approach her to say my compliments but—whether you two believe it or not, daddy was scared to death.”
“Why scared Daddy?” asked Quentin.
“Mama was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of her, much less offend her with my words,” Lyney replies to which the two children nod as if they understood.
“Luckily, daddy always had a secret or two up his sleeve, and when I approached her, I did a little magic trick turning a tiny spark of my vision into a Rainbow Rose, which at the time I thought was my worst trick but it seemed to make your mom happy.”
“It was the most genuine and sweetest gesture anyone had ever made to me,” you extend your hand to your husband across the table and he takes it, placing a light kiss on your palm.
“We didn't have much time left together since she was traveling back to her hometown the next morning, and nor did I have the courage to invite her to dinner either, something that caused me deep regret and even made Aunt Lynette annoyed.”
“But before she left, I promised I’d see her again. And, luckily, a few months later, she and her troupe returned to Fontaine to perform a new show.”
“And then you said you loved each other?” Corinne asked innocently.
You and Lyney laughed, “No Rin. Far from it actually. Your dad could barely get close to me without him stuttering something indecipherable, turning around, and disappearing into the city streets,” you teased your husband which made him feel embarrassed.
“What can I say? You always seemed to get more beautiful each day and I had never been interested in anyone before. Besides, there were a lot of suitors vying for your attention so I figured you wouldn’t be interested in me.”
You roll your eyes in amusement, “And look where we are now.”
“So how did you start to love each other?” Quentin asks, still in doubt.
“After many failed attempts by your papa, he finally managed to invite me to dinner—which I accepted without thinking twice. After that, he felt more confident talking to me and asking me out,” you say, “But there were also many times when we were away from each other due to our work.”
“I knew I loved the troupe and I loved being on the road traveling and performing in different countries but I was also in love with your papa. When I was with him… I knew I had found a home. So I left the troupe, came to Fontaine, confessed my feelings to him and, fortunately, he confessed me back.”
“And since then we have been living happily ever after. The end!” Lyney jokes and you and the twins giggles again.
“So! Did you like the story?” you ask.
Corinne is the first to nod eagerly. Her beautiful purple eyes shone like two amethysts in pure joy towards her parents' love story.
Quentin in turn…
“Meh. I thought Daddy had fight a dragon to save you.”
You and Lyney stare at each other for a while before laughing loudly, catching the attention of Lynette and Freminet as they enter the kitchen.
Yeah. You couldn't deny it. Fighting a dragon seemed more exciting in this case.
Kazuha
“It’s more precise to say that love has fallen on me,” Kazuha said as he sat Kazumi on his right leg and little Kiyomi on his left. His children looked at him with a confused expression making him chuckle.
“It was a long time ago. We were sailing on the waters east of Mondstadt when I felt an unknown agitation being carried by the wind currents.”
“You should know that it’s pretty rare to face sea creatures nowadays due to fishing, but at that time, it was an occurrence we faced quite often so we should've always be prepared for it. And as part of The Crux’s crew, it was my job to stay vigilant, so I immediately informed our captain and mates to stay alert and careful for a possible attack—although I must say I wasn’t alarmed as I should be. Something in my instincts told me to not be afraid,” he smiled at the memories.
“Then, as if to confirm my predictions, we saw a shadow crossing the skies and falling not soon after. No one seemed to react in time, however, I had instantly prepared myself with the help of my vision for whatever was coming to us.”
“That was when your mom fell directly into my arms, surprising everyone on the ship because I had just saved her life from a free fall after one of the wings of her wind glider broke,” the kids gasped and he kept softly smiling at them.
“I feared that your mama had hurt herself during the fall but when she finally looked at me she was giving me that gorgeous, bright smile of hers. I think it was at that exact moment where she had my heart.”
“Until that moment I had never seen someone so beautiful in my life. She looked stunning, wonderful. As radiant as the first sun ray of the morning.”
“I could see she was thanking me for saving her life as her lips kept moving, but all I could do at that moment was stare at her, completely mesmerized. It was quite impossible not to be that one who was falling in love at that very moment.”
“After that, she started accompanying us on some journeys and even took us on some of her adventures. I was in love with her free spirit, yes, but even more so with her person. It didn't take long for us to get closer, and starting to date her was as natural as having her in my life.”
“That's our story. It is still being written, however, this time we have you, our most beloved children, to share our memories with.”
As he finished it, Kazuha noticed the dreamy and joyful expressions on both children's faces. Kiyomi seemed the most enchanted by the story since she had inherited the romantic spirit of both her parents while Kazumi pretended to be unimpressed when in fact, inwardly, he was eager for more details of it. The patriarch couldn’t hide his amusement at the view.
Both siblings showed excitedly their enthusiasm towards their parents’ love story with some funny and cute comments here and there which, eventually, drew your attention to the living room they were in.
When you walked in with a baby Haruki sleeping in your arms, your family stopped their conversation to stare at you which made you raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“What? Am I interrupting something? I heard a loud noise coming from here and came to see what you two little things were up to.”
Kazumi and Kiyomi looked briefly at each other before giggling cutely.
“Otochan was telling us the story of how you met and how he fell in love with you,” your daughter responds excitedly.
This immediately brings a smile to your face, making you walk over and sit on the couch next to them, adjusting Haru comfortably in your arms as you lean towards your two older children and husband.
“Oh, I love this story! Did you guys know? I literally fell for your dad!”
Kaveh
It was late at night and you and Kaveh were putting Zahra to sleep.
Normally, you and your husband would take turns with your daughter's nighttime routine so that the tasks wouldn’t be exhausting for only one person.
However, the little girl had woken up sick that morning and had demanded her both parents' attention all day, acting more whiny than usual. So it wasn't unexpected that she also asked for both parents to be with her at bedtime.
Lying in bed with Zahra, you stroked her blonde curls as she snuggled into the warmth of your embrace, happy for the attention she received. In turn, Kaveh was looking for a book from her mini library to read to her, although you could tell that he was having a hard time making the right choice since none of the options seemed to catch his daughter's attention.
“Umm… We have The Boar Princess, Flowers for Princess Fischl, and The Fox in the Dandelion Sea but Daddy doesn’t know if you want me to read one of those titles again,” Kaveh showed her the books but Zahra denied them.
“No! Daddy already read The Boar Princess yesterday and I don't like Princess Fischl,” she responds grumpily, which draws a sigh of defeat from the architect.
“Okay, I'm out of ideas. Azizam, I need help here.”
You giggled softly but went to your husband's aid, “Well... How about we change the scene a little and tell you a different story?”
Zahra's eyes suddenly widened in curiosity and she nodded enthusiastically.
“How about if we tell you something new? Something that doesn't even exist in books. The story of how Mommy and Daddy met!”
Kaveh, also seeming to brighten at your suggestion, takes the other spot on your daughter's tiny bed and wraps his arm around both of your waists.
“Ah, this is one of my favorite stories,” he comments, sending you a small smile.
“It’s better than The Boar Princess, mummy?” asks Zahra excitedly.
You laugh, “Much better than The Boar Princess, sweetheart. Honey, how about you do the honors?” you suggest in a mischievous tone that catches Kaveh off guard, but seeing that you weren't going to budge and his little princess seemed increasingly anxious, the architect cleared his throat before starting to recount about the day he finally met you.
“Let’s see… It was at a time when life was a bit of a rollercoaster for me.”
“You know, I’ve always been very passionate about my work and have always dedicated myself to the maximum to bring my projects to life. I was ambitious, hard-working, and had dozens of clients but I was also quite ignorant. It didn't matter how great my desire to build houses and palaces was, or how strong were my inspiration when my wallet didn't match my reality. Neither did my mental state...”
“Then one day I received a letter. It was the Liyue's Tianquan inviting me to participate in an exclusive civil construction project and my participation in this event would be of great honor.”
“When I saw that opportunity, I grabbed it without thinking about the consequences. After all, it wasn't every day that I received a chance like that, and even though my work had a certain popularity, not all clients were able to follow my ideas. So I imagined that being in a foreign environment with people who apparently valued my projects would be like reaching the purpose I wanted. Plus the paycheck seemed to be rewarding too.”
You snort in amusement at his last comment.
“So I went to Liyue and soon I was in a huge meeting room with professionals coming from all Teyvat. As the project meeting continued I found myself increasingly out of place by the suggestions my colleagues were making. They were so closed-minded. When they’re thinking about time, I wanted quality. While they wanted cost savings, I wanted to do something to make the people involved in that construction feel worthy of a home. It was disappointing and I was starting to get sick of that place.”
“That’s when your mama decided to speak out,” the man’s eyes twinkled briefly.
“Unlike those people who had simple and selfish ideals, your mom was brilliant, confident, and bold. Not only did she catch the attention of the men in that room with her beauty and elegance, but it was certainly her intelligence that captured the hearts of many that day. Including mine.”
“Until that moment I hadn’t given my opinion, but knowing that one of the main people in charge had a similar vision to mine, I felt excited to give my ideas. It was one of the moments I felt most anxious too.”
Zahra frowned, “Why Daddy?”
“I think at that moment I got it into my head that your mom had high expectations for me and I didn’t want to disappoint her.”
“But luckily that wasn't the case as she seemed to approve each of my ideas. That’s how we ended up forming a partnership.”
“As we worked together, I found myself liking her more and more. At the time, this was also a big obstacle for me as I didn’t like mixing my professional and personal relationships.”
"But— aah, your mama had a way of enchanting me every day. She appreciated my work and my dedication. She encouraged me to think bigger and challenged me to be bolder not only with my work but with myself. Somewhere along the way, our nightly sessions turned into conversations about life, ambitions, and even our struggles.”
“A few months later, when we finally finished the construction, I felt brave enough to confess my feelings to her, and guess what your mom said, Zaza?”
“What? What did she say Daddy?” she asked expectantly.
“Mama said she wouldn’t accept my feelings until I sorted my life out,” he huffed making you laugh and your daughter look at you in disbelief.
“Don’t look at me like that, Zaza. At the time it was the right decision to make. I was already in love with your papa as much as he was with me, but I knew he wasn't ready to get into a relationship when he wasn't okay with himself. I wanted someone who could provide me security and was confidence in themselves, and your daddy didn’t have those qualities.”
“Ouch, azizam. You don’t need to rub it in!”
“I’m just saying.”
Kaveh sighed resignedly, “Anyway, she said she wouldn’t accept my feelings but would wait for me as long as necessary.”
“After that, I returned to Sumeru but this time determined to prove myself to her. I used every means possible to resolve my financial, family, and personal issues. I worked tirelessly to find my path and build my own home. And almost two years later I traveled back to Liyue. But this time I was sure I wouldn't leave without my girl, and so I did,” he finishes the story, and you clap softly while Zahra smiles tiredly.
“It was a great story, azizam,” you comment, smiling, “But I think now it’s time to finish for today because our little princess needs to sleep well to wake up better tomorrow.”
Kaveh looks at his daughter's sleepy eyes and agrees.
You place Zahra back on her pillow and cover her with the blanket, placing a kiss on her forehead—Kaveh copying your gesture soon after.
Saying goodnight to the girl, you and your husband leave the room together, leaving the door ajar the way she liked it.
On the way to your room, you couldn't help but notice how Kaveh looked so down and you frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
He clicks his tongue and turns his face to the other side, mumbling, “I was just thinking you didn't need to say that I didn't look confident back then, you know? What about now, azizam? What will my own daughter think of me? She’ll think I’m lame!”
You roll your eyes.
“You surely look lame now.”
“Hey!”
Alhaitham
The heavy oak door creaked softly as Alhaitham entered the house, his mind finally relaxing after a long day at work.
Right in the living room, the scribe identified your very focused presence with what he presumed to be correcting tests and homework. So as not to make his arrival go unnoticed, Alhaitham approaches and gently touches your shoulders, making you jump in scared.
“I’m sorry, habibti. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says and you smile at him.
“It’s okay, dear,” you reach for his hand and squeeze it in greeting, “But you should learn to make a little more noise, Haitham. Your presence is as subtle as that of a cat. Anyway, welcome home.”
Alhaitham kisses the top of your head, “Thank you. Where is Hakim?”
You frown and look around the room but don't identify your son's presence anywhere.
“I am not sure, to be honest. He was here with me until a few minutes ago but I don't think watching his mother work is that fun. Maybe he's painting in his room? If he had gone out to play with the twins, he’d have told me,” You conclude.
Your husband nods, but the faint gleam of recognition in his eyes announces that he already has an idea where the child could be.
“Very well. I’ll change my clothes first and I’ll make us some tea right after, okay?”
You nod in thanks and turn your attention to the paperwork while Alhaitham disappears through the halls of the house.
Instead of making his way to your shared room, the scribe heads to the door of his office where he finds it ajar. Not surprised, Alhaitham approaches and through the small opening observes the brightly lit room as Hakim makes himself comfortable on the floor leafing through a specific book but surrounded by dozens of others—which he assumes have fallen to the floor as his son tried to reach them from the highest shelf.
A mixture of fatherly pride and affection surfaced beneath his stoic exterior.
Clearing his throat lightly, Alhaitham approaches with measured steps, not wanting to scare the boy.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he announces making Hakim jump in fright, just like his mother did. Alhaitham snorted in amusement.
“Sorry Baba. I know you don’t like anyone touching your things, but I was going to tidy everything up later.”
“It’s okay, Kim,” he replies calmly and sits down in the armchair located in the middle of the office, “What are you reading?”
Hakim smiles adorably showing off the book he was so interested in and Alhaitham couldn't help but chuckle.
“It’s a cool book!” comments the boy, “I can't read what's written because there are lots of strange letters and drawings but they're cool too.”
“I expect so. After all, your mother wrote this book.”
Hakim’s interest peaks, “Really?”
“Yes. It's one of my favorite ones, by the way. It was through it that I met her”, he pats his thighs inviting Hakim to sit on his lap which the boy accomplishes happily.
Hakim leans back against his father's warm chest, hugging the book affectionately, “How did you two meet, Baba?”
Alhaitham was silent for a few seconds before letting out a reflective sigh.
“It was at the same time that I was holding the position of Acting Grand Sage”, Alhaitham began, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone.
“Sumeru was going through great changes due to everything that had happened and, inevitably, Akademiya had been one of the main places affected by it. I ended up temporarily taking on the role of the great sage out of respect for Buer's wise decision, although it wasn't exactly the job I was looking for.”
“There were many responsibilities, many commitments, and daily there were dozens of issues to be resolved due to years, centuries of bad motivations. So you can imagine how exhausting it was to rebuild an entire institution from zero and be that person that people followed orders.”
“Until one day your mother suddenly appears as a new candidate for the position of professor in the Darshan of Haravatat.”
“I hadn't met her at first since our paths never seemed to cross. Yet the words in the halls of the Akademiya were always the same: the new professor was like a breath of fresh air in that old institution—beautiful, kind, with a passion for knowledge that matched her beauty.”
He paused, remembering the scene as if it were yesterday. “One afternoon, I found myself in the library again, buried in a book—absorbing all that knowledge with a hunger that had previously been unknown to me. Little did I know that it was her book that I was reading. Such insight, elegance, and dedication to details had uniquely captivated me.”
“I was pretty engrossed in the text when I heard footsteps approaching,” Alhaitham continued, with a hint of amusement in his tone. “She stood by my side and gently asked about the book, curious to know what I thought, and so our conversation began.”
“We didn't talk much that day as I was a much more reserved person, but she was exactly as the scholars’ whispers described her. Through the brief talk we had, I was able to explore philosophical thoughts and complexities of life that I had never explored before. Your mother had a way of drawing out my thoughts, of making me see beyond the surface and into the depths of existence. That’s what attracted me to her in the first place.”
“As days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, we met at the library quite often. Our discussions deepened, and with each talk, I found myself opening up in ways I hadn't before.”
“I think she knew back then that she had caught my attention, although it took her a little longer to realize that she had stolen my heart,” he chuckles softly. Hakim smiles in delight.
“We began spending more time together beyond the Akademiya strongholds, exploring the world around us. It made me realize how much I wanted her in my life. In that same way. Every day."
“And then one night, in our quiet sanctuary in that very hallway in the library, I told her those exact words,” Alhaitham's voice softened with love.
“She smiled that radiant smile of hers that illuminates even the darkest corners of my soul and said she felt the same way. At that moment, Hakim, it was like the stars aligned and everything fell into place.”
“That’s how I met your mother, Kim. In the silent corners of knowledge and amid the pages of her wisdom, our love story began—a story woven with understanding, respect, and a bond that grows stronger with each passing day.”
Alhaitham ends the story with a slight smile to which his son imitates him, admiringly.
“I hope one day I can meet someone like you and mama did, Baba.”
The scribe smirks in amusement, “I hope for the same, child.”
Not long after, you made your entrance into the office carrying in your hands a tray with three cups of tea and milk and Hakim's favorite cookies.
“I knew you boys were hiding out here,” you smile at your husband and son, completely oblivious to the story they just shared. “Come on. Let’s eat while the cookies are still warm.”
Cyno
The whole family was gathered in front of the fireplace reviewing some photos that you had captured and saved over the years.
From your days as an eremite to the twins' first steps, every moment was recorded in several photographs that you kept with the greatest care so that, from time to time, you could remember them again with a nostalgic feeling. And currently, this was one of those moments.
Aryan and Isaar were having fun with some older photos of Cyno, courtesy of Cyrus, while you and he organized the rest of the albums back into the box they belonged to.
It was a serene moment, of pure bliss and harmony. Something you wish you could capture with your kamera again, but you'd rather enjoy just being with the people you loved most.
“Hey Mama, what picture is that?” asks Isaar, breaking you out of your daydreams.
When you recognize the black and white, slightly blurred image, a giggle couldn't help but escape your lips.
“Aah, it's from our first date,” you reply happily, “If I'm not mistaken, Dehya and Candace had followed us that day and took this one. Nobody could believe that the emotionless and unapproachable General Mahamatra could go on a date with a beautiful girl, so I think they wanted to have proof that this day happened.”
Cyno snorts and the twins nod in understanding, smiling at each other.
“How did you and Baba meet?” Aryan asks shortly afterward, still mesmerized by the photo in his brother's hands.
You and Cyno locked eyes briefly and a mischievous smirk crossed your face as the flicker of a smile curved his lips.
“Well, you boys won't believe it, but it all started when I defeated your baba in a fight.”
The smile on Cyno's face immediately disappeared, being replaced by an expression of slight unbelief and confusion. “You didn't defeat me, hayati. I remember very well that it was a draw.”
You made a slight grimace as if you didn't believe the blasphemy your husband was saying, which left him more incredulous than before, and your children quite amused.
“These are irrelevant details, my love. Let’s pretend you never said that.”
“Anyway, I was a different person back then,” you continued, your eyes shining with a mixture of mischief and pride. “Living according to my clan's philosophy but in a more devious and rebellious way, if I may say so. I wanted to chart a path in a way that’d only suit me.”
“I used to do several illegal jobs for which the matras already persecuted me for, but it was deceiving the young and naive scholars from Akademiya that amused me and made my reputation grow among its guards. No need to give me that look, boys. Mama only took them to forbidden ruins and mausoleums in exchange for extra money,” you added the last part as you received strange looks from the twins.
Cyno, seeing the scene, snorted in amusement, “You’re not helping yourself, hayati.”
“If they want to hear the true and complete version they better be prepared to hear what happened,” you wrinkled your nose.
To save you from more possible judgments, Cyno resumed the thread, his deep voice cutting through the room. “I was immediately informed about the incidents that were occurring with certain frequency, and tasked with restoring order. It was supposed to be a job easily accomplished even by the lowest ranking among the matras, but not only were your mom’s activities not within the law, as no officer was a match for her strength either. Many scholars had not been discovered of their misconduct thanks to her,” he admitted, a slight affectionate smile crossing his face.
His subtle compliment made you shy.
“And just as your dad’s reputation preceded him, he tracked me like a bloodhound,” you said with a hint of admiration underlying your words. “Until one afternoon I caught myself off guard on the outskirts of the Sobek Oasis and he appeared announcing that he’d take me to the capital so I could have my punishment. I found him incredibly attractive at that moment, but I wasn't going to give in so easily either. In the end, we ended up fighting,” you giggled remembering the duel. Two forces of nature colliding: fire and thunder.
“It was a draw,” Cyno resumes saying it again, “Although I must admit your mom gave me a bit of a hard time. It was my first time facing a formidable opponent who was equal to me—I dare say even superior to my abilities.”
Isaar, the more curious of the twins, leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement, “What happened next?”
You exchanged a knowing look with your husband, silently communicating with him.
“Well, sometimes life surprises you,” you respond cryptically, reaching out to ruffle the child’s hair in affection.
Cyno's gaze softened imperceptibly as he continued, “Our paths continued to cross after our first meeting. While on one hand your mom seemed not to give up what she was doing, I felt increasingly motivated, challenged to stop her—after all, not only was this affecting the performance of the Akademiya students, but it was also tarnishing the reputation of the matras who weren’t managing to deal with that situation.”
“But as time passed and we kept facing each other, we also came to an understanding. Sometimes behind the clash of wills, there is a common thread. That’s how your mom and I realized we were stronger together than we were apart.”
Aryan, although quieter but no less attentive, absorbed his father's words with a thoughtful expression.
“So, it was like fate, Mama?” he mused aloud.
You smiled warmly at your children, your heart filling with maternal pride.
“Maybe it was. In an unpredictable way, but woven by the hands of fate,” you respond, your voice carrying the weight of years of shared history and love.
As the night progressed, you and Cyno continued to tell the twins your stories of adventures, challenges overcome, and the unshakable bond that had been born in infertile soil and blossomed into a deep, beautiful and lasting partnership.
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pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅
You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.
DO NOT PICK UP
You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.
And then it lights up again.
Just ignore it. Just ignore it.
As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.
It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea.
But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–
And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.
“Hi, baby-”
Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.
“Hi Logan.”
—
“It’s been too long, sweetheart-”
“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”
“But you answered.”
Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.
“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”
It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.
"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.
“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”
You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.
“What do you want, Logan?”
He takes a deep breath.
“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”
“No.”
“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”
You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.
It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.
“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.
“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”
He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”
You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.
Is this really living?
“Fine. You can come over.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”
With a snort, he ends the call.
He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance.
With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.
He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.
When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble.
Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.
It sends a shiver down your spine.
You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you?
You need to gain some control back.
“Condom,” you tell him.
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”
He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.
Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin.
In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.
“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.
“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”
“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”
“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”
“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”
You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.
“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”
“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.
You groan, and he laughs.
You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything.
The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.
But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat.
You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-
He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.
After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.
For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.
But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.
“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”
Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.
“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”
He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake.
He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.
“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”
You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.
“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-
“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess?
“Fuck you, Logan.”
“Use your words.”
“Yes-”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”
You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.
It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.
He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple.
As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.
He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder.
You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.
At least you got those tide pens.
You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.
You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.
—-
You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.
You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.
Back to this-
"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.
"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-”
You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”
"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“
He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.
This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.
You leave the room.
A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.
"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”
He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.
"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.
You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”
He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.
You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.
A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.
"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”
Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.
You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.
You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.
And then one night you get a text.
He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.
DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video
With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.
You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.
Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–
It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.
It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.
There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.
This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.
You hit play.
At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.
“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”
AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.
Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it.
A moment later, the text comes through.
“Ready for you, princess.”
God, if only it would take more than that.
As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt.
You’re at his house an hour later.
You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you.
You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.
And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.
#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett x you#wolverine smut#james logan howlett x reader#xmen x reader#logan howlett x f!reader#logan x reader#logan x f!reader#logan x fem!reader#logan howlett smut#worst logan#worst wolverine
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!
You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.
#opla#opla x reader#opla x y/n#one piece#one piece live action#opla sanji#one piece sanji#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#sanji live action#sanji x reader#sanji x you#sanji x y/n#opla sanji x reader#angst#one piece sanji x reader#ਏਓ ladadiida
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Obsessed - Part 4 (Azriel x Reader)
Summary: Feelings and desires finally come forward.
A/n: Apologies for the delay, I was busy giggling and blushing. THE SMUT FINALLY BEGINS!!!!!
Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), Azriel (that's it. he's the warning. he's too hot)
Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)
****
Needless to say, Azriel and his listening devices heard Y/n’s side of her conversation with Nesta. She must’ve had a voice call. He'd patiently listened to her crying and the anguish as she discussed her feelings with Nesta.
From how the call had concluded, Nesta must’ve probably told her to be careful no matter what.
Azriel was not interested in how to break Y/n’s walls. Walls were there for a reason. He was interested in becoming eligible for entry and working towards being the right choice and making her realise that.
It was obviously better for her to accept him rather than him forcing her to do that. Especially after all the shit Y/n faced towards the end of her bachelor’s degree.
Fifty eight days had passed since he first laid eyes on Y/n in that barely lit club with too much noise. Ever since her call with Nesta five days ago, there was a new wall.
They’d say hello but she deflected his every attempt to spend time together whether it was dinner or grocery shopping.
It was eating him up. Maybe there was something else he’d missed. Something she might not have told Nesta for any reason. Or maybe she’d had that conversation outside the apartment.
And Azriel was determined to find out.
It was a Friday. Her classes ended at four in the evening. She’d study in the library for god knows how long whenever classes ended early like this but she was also nearing her period. That meant she’d study at home where she could comfortably snack in case of premenstrual cravings.
Azriel had finished up his work and sat on the sofa near his door, waiting to hear her footsteps and the sound of her keys. He waited for nearly an hour before he heard her. Impatience made him rise and open the door in a hurry.
Y/n looked at him wide eyed as she was just about to turn the keys and open her own door.
“Azriel.” His name was a whisper and he took that as an encouragement to take two steps closer.
“Why are you so distant these days?” He was done waiting. He was done pretending that her fear to face her feelings wasn’t hurting him.
“I’m not.” She quickly responded. Too quickly.
“You don’t sass me around, joke with me, boss me, or even look at me properly. And I’m done pretending that this is not affecting me.”
And she watched him wide eyed, her lips parted. He wanted her to say something. Cry. Scream. The silence has become despicable since it was only a reminder of her absence.
“I. .” She looked at her hand on the doorway as her thumb scratched the wooden frame.
“Did I offend you in any way? I’d like to understand exactly what it is and apologise. I had no intention of hurting you in any way and I still do not.” Yes. Azriel was yearning. For her, for her attention.
“You didn’t offend me.” She was once again quick to respond. “I just. .” And she looked away, eyes shut tightly and her mouth closed as if she didn’t want to give him any response.
“Y/n.” And she immediately looked at him as if he’d never said her name before.
She didn’t know how much he loved her name. How much he wanted to call for her whenever he entered the apartment. How much he wanted her to be there and to simply embrace her warmly and tell her he was home.
****
Y/n had never heard Azriel desperate. He was bold and unwavering. He seemed like the type of man who would make others desperate.
But here he was, calling her name as if it was a prayer for her to come to him.
Avoiding Azriel only resulted in her carefully constructed walls suffocating her. She was so used to his presence in her life.
It was not just the talking, dinner, and the grocery shopping but it was also the silence. Sbe simply liked to be in his presence, either not doing anything or doing her own work. The knowledge that he was nearby gave her heart a rest.
And she faltered.
She held her tears and wiped her eyes before they fell.
“Y/n.” Azriel reached her in two large strides and held her like she was all that he’d ever wanted. All that mattered.
“I won’t cry.” She was stubborn about that. Because her feelings for him were beautiful.
Many spent their lives insulting beauty and then regretting their inability to appreciate it. Rarely did people actually appreciate it.
And she was determined not to waste time. “I like you.”
Azriel went rigid against her.
Oh.
Oh.
She pulled back to see his face. He truly had entered into some sort of trance.
She’d just slapped her feelings on him without considering what he’d feel. Sure, he saw her as a good friend but he probably also saw her as a sister since he’d patted her head a few times.
Maybe, all he felt was something platonic or sibling-like.
“Pretend you didn’t hear that.” Y/n wriggled out of his embrace and turned to her door with her key.
As soon as she unlocked and opened it, a large hand came from behind and covered her hand which was on the handle.
Azriel’s face came next to her shoulder, his entire body mere inches behind her. And he closed the door.
The other hand extended from the other side of her head and she was now effectively trapped.
This was beginning to feel like a very dirty dream that could end with both of them against this door.
She inhaled to gather courage and turned to look at him. Azriel’s face remained there before he let his head fall to her shoulder.
“Y/n. .” It was a tone she’d never heard. He sounded like he was aching. Tortured, even. “How do I even begin with you, sweetheart?”
Something crashed in her head. What was he saying? Why was he calling her sweetheart? A term that gave birth to hope.
He lifted his head and looked at her like she’d answered all his prayers and doubts. Like he had attained some divine level of clarity. “I’m quite certain that I like you more than you like me.”
She remained still for a few seconds before a smile touched her lips. Y/n pressed her forehead against his and whispered. “This is not a competition.”
“No, it isn’t. This is us.”
“Us.” She affirmed and he gently kissed her lips.
Y/n suddenly realised that she was trapped between him and the door and his arms caging her in. She kissed him a second longer. Her one hand was still on the door handle. At some point, the other had moved to cradle his head.
The next kiss was not sweet. It was all tongue and need. Azriel pulled her waist towards him and she could feel his cock against her ass.
“Let me take you somewhere.” Azriel whispered against her lips.
“With this?” She pushed against his cock, feeling mischievous.
“Tease all you want, Y/n. I’ll make you beg soon.” He thrust his hips against her.
She somehow pulled back. “We’re still in the corridor.”
“And?” He nipped her ear and Y/n could feel her resolve mist away into nothing.
“There are cameras.” Reason was evaporating and she had to cling to it. Y/n really was not interested in another tenant or any delivery man seeing them.
“Kiss me again.” She obliged his request far too easily and found herself twirled with her back against her door.
Y/n continued to be greedy, fingers combing Azriel’s hair from his nape. She pulled his hair and pressed herself more and more against him. And obviously, none of it was enough.
She wanted more of him. And the more he gave her, the more wanton she became.
“Lock your apartment, sweetheart. We’re going to mine.” Azriel spun her so that she’d lock the door but she was barely able to focus with his lips on her neck. She fumbled with the key against the lock but she managed to insert it.
“Or shall I take you right here?” A large hand squeezed her breast. Her body arched, ass pressing harder against the bulge poking from his pants.
She really needed those pants gone.
“We can explore voyeurism later.” Y/n finally twisted the key and locked the door. She turned around as she pocketed her keys.
“Would you like that?” Azriel took her hand, eyes blazing with desire and a hint of amusement. “The thrill of being caught?” He led her to his own apartment where the door was still open. “Or is it being watched?”
“I like privacy.” Azriel continued to kiss her temple and trailed down to her jaw. He was all too eager to throw her bag and coat away. “Although the possibility that someone may see is. .”
Y/n sighed and did not continue because Azriel was busy with her neck. Wet kisses and gentle nips escalated to a harsh suck. Her back arched easily. The thrill of being seen was now an abandoned topic.
“Off.” She pulled against his grey sweater. Azriel hoisted Y/n, set her on the dining table, and proceeded to remove his sweater.
An odd mixture of anticipation and anxiety swirled in her abdomen. She always knew that Azriel was larger than her but seeing that broad chest with ink in intricate swirls and patterns that extended till his arms was a sight.
Curly hair, golden brown skin, tattoos, muscles, an insanely attractive face, and she whimpered at the sight.
He threw the sweater somewhere and placed his arms on either side of her, once again caging her. He was leaning in. He was closer. And Y/n whimpered as she processed that much information and shut her eyes tightly.
“What is it?” He was now alarmed. Y/n simply leaned her forehead against his chest as she caught her breath. “Y/n?”
“You’re too. . .” She whined. “Too perfect.”
In all honesty, Y/n tried.
She tried to look at his face.
To meet his gaze.
But the hunger in his eyes as he watched her, tongue darting out to wet his lips, curly hair all messed up, and the unavoidably attractive body made it difficult.
In a swift movement, Azriel grabbed Y/n and thrust his hips against hers, groaning at the friction. “Do you feel my cock?”
What else could she feel?
“This is all your doing.” A hand grabbed her throat and made her look at him.
“Take responsibility like a good girl.” He pressed against her, the clothes now only a nuisance. “And I’ll reward you so well.”
Yes.
She wanted to be his good girl. She’d gladly take responsibility for that cock.
Y/n peered down and saw the tattoo beneath his navel that disappeared into his pants. She wanted to remove his pants, see the entirety of that tattoo, lick his cock.
Y/n placed a hand on that bulge and gently caressed it with her palm before grabbing him properly. A groan escaped Azriel and she was beginning to accept the power that came with arousing this man.
“Yes.”She placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him. Azriel immediately complied, moving away.
And Y/n removed her sweater and chemise in one go. Her bra remained and he closed in immediately, looking at her as if he’d never seen her before.
She moved her hands behind her and unclasped the hook. The strain on her breasts was no more once the bra was removed and Azriel immediately kissed her again, softly and deeply.
They progressed again towards red hot desire now that they could feel each other’s bodies more. He descended to her neck, collarbone and sucked on the skin right above her breasts.
Those large hands squeezed her waist and hips and seemed to explore as though he was studying her.
Y/n found herself moaning and arching pushing towards him. She tried to explore his back with her hands and yet there seemed to be more area left as a testament to how large he was compared to her.
His mouth wrapped around a nipple, softly licking it. It seemed like he was slowing down but once he spread his spit enough, Azriel flicked his tongue on the peak.
Y/n loved it. Her hands on his hair and neck, scratching and tugging. Her breasts were free and worshipped. Azriel was all over her.
Her elbows were supporting her upper body against the table as Azriel continued to work his mouth and hand on her breasts.
Azriel paused and looked at her as if to remind her that he was insatiable at this point. His hands came to her hips and then to her thighs and he hooked a finger on one of the belt loops and pulled it. “May I?”
Y/n was absolutely ready for this man to do whatever he wanted to her. Her legs were already spread and she nodded once. “Yes.”
Azriel unbuckled her belt and the sound of it excited her. So did the sound of the zipper.
His mouth against hers was another wonderful experience, tongue exploring her mouth as if he was searching for something.
Her hips had to rise in order for the jeans to be pulled down but Y/n was sort of sitting and supporting her body on elbows if that was anything.
In one smooth motion, Azriel stepped to the side, grabbed and lifted her legs with one hand and removed her pants till the hip with the other hand. He set her down gently before getting rid of the obstructive piece of clothing before returning.
“Where were we?” His hands on her thighs was a surreal experience. Spreading her so nicely. Those tattooed fingers against her skin had such power and his touch felt electric.
Fingers closed in on her inner thighs, teasing her as they played with the edge of her panties. She heard the sound of wood being clumsily dragged and she found that he’d pulled a chair and sat down.
Y/n thought she was ready but Azriel quickly erased that misconception when a finger suddenly entered her.
An obscene sound escaped her and she suddenly pulled him closer by his neck, her back arching.
It had been a while since she’d had sex. Needless to say, it was a surprise for both of them.
“Sweetheart, have you never. .” Azriel trailed away, searching her face for an answer to a question. Y/n opened her eyes and saw his shock, immediately understanding what he wanted to ask.
“It’s been a long time.” She responded, taking her time to get used to him. Gods, it was just one finger and she could not get rid of the feeling even with how wet she was.
She was still breathing heavily since that one finger had been enough to leave her breathless. Her eyes closed as pain slowly gave way to pleasure.
Fuck it. At this rate, she’d need more time to get used to sex altogether. And with how big and thick Azriel was, she’d probably need a few days. “I’m here, Y/n.”
He was so good, whispering words of comfort and affirmation. Tell her she was beautiful and that they’d go at her pace and how good she felt around his finger.
It didn’t matter how much she wanted him to lose control with her because it’d probably hurt her with how she was currently.
“Move.” She whined, holding his shoulders for dear life. Azriel slowly moved his finger and Y/n kept gasping.
“Y/n, if you ever want to stop-”
“Are you insane?” She meant to sound strict but she was still processing the pleasure. “I-ah.”
Y/n could see how difficult it was for him to restrain. Desire bordering on determination to keep her needs first.
Azriel removed his finger and before she could complain, he moved her panties aside and sucked her clit harshly.
She had no control over herself and he easily grabbed her legs and placed them over his shoulders. Her hand moved to his head, fingers combing through his hair and grabbing them.
Her grip loosened and tightened in tandem with his tongue’s ministrations. Azriel was very much interested in teasing her towards the edge.
Y/n took a peek at him as he slowed down. Azriel met her gaze, raising a brow with such arrogance, she pushed his face against her cunt. A laugh reverberated through her skin.
His tongue relentlessly flicked against her clit and his finger slowly re-entered her. It felt easier since she’d been stretched for it earlier.
Azriel reached places her own fingers had never reached and he took his time exploring before Y/n trembled and moaned louder than she had so far.
She knew he’d realised what that spot was, how it would affect her. And he was simply teasing her. Trailing around, reaching everywhere except where she needed him the most. Her impatience rose and her needs increased.
“Az!” He hummed against her, the vibration carrying another wave of pleasure. “More.” He obliged with another finger.
Y/n jolted when she heard something loud. Azriel removed his mouth from her cunt, kicked away the chair he’d been sitting on, and rose to his height.
He set her legs down and pulled her closer to the edge of the table, his fingers still inside her. His hand found her throat as he pulled her into a searing kiss. A tear fell from her eye. And then another.
“Azriel.” The sight of him hovering over her in all that dark glory was too alluring and she couldn’t look away. Even seeing him made her quiver.
“What do you want, sweetheart?”
She whimpered when his fingers started slowing and frantically looked up at him. “Your mouth and. . your fingers hnnghh.”
“My pretty girl.” Azriel kissed her cheek and kneeled and tapped her thighs. “On my shoulders.” She obeyed immediately.
Tears trailed down her cheeks. Y/n didn’t even know if she was moaning or crying. Both his hands were now holding her thighs apart and Azriel aimed to please her as he gently bit her clit while adding another finger.
It was too much now. He was now increasing the intensity and the speed, as if her pleasure was his sole purpose. She was falling at an insane speed and she was so close.
Azriel did not let go, licking the life out of her. At some point, she had completely laid down on the table and had begun thrusting her hips against his face. Her eyes remained closed, a hand playing with her nipple while the other clutched his scalp.
“Please, please, please. . .” Y/n continued begging. Whether it was for him to continue or to stop, even she didn’t know. She gasped and breathed and moaned and finally felt herself shatter.
Her body trembled and she was hauling all the air in as she breathed. Her tears stopped, eyes still closed, and she let go of his hair.
Y/n felt Azriel’s warmth close in as he rose to his height and leaned towards her. “So fucking pretty.”
He pulled her by the waist towards him, the other hand cradling her head, and she didn’t even have the energy to support herself against him. She felt his thick cock poking at her belly again.
Y/n looked up at him, desperate and exhausted. “Az.”
“What is it?”
“What about you?”
“Impatient, are we?” He teased with a faint smile. Azriel leaned in and kissed her softly.
When he pulled back, he looked like an insatiable beast, desire darkening his golden gaze. “Breathe all the air in, Y/n, because I’m going to fuck it out of you soon.”
****
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I love all your Feyd works! Thank you.
My request is regrding a sensitive topic. So if it makes you feel uncomfortable, please feel free not to write it.
Reader has arranged marriage with Feyd. After a few years they all discover (including her) that she has fertility issues and has trouble getting pregnant so the Baron wants them to divorce. Wife is becoming hopeless. But Feyd who’s utterly in love and devoted to his wife will not have it and pledges loyalty to her.
Worth To Him
Notes/Warnings: obviously this is about fertility problems. It is a sensitive topic. If this bothers you, please do not read. Mention of period sex.
Words: 1500
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list
Sobs wrack your body. One after another after another that keeps your breaths shallow and ragged. Tears coat your lashes, weighing them down. You gave up trying to see clearly through them an hour ago and let yourself get lost in the haze of blindness.
You can’t stop it. You haven’t been able to stop for days. You clutched your pillow like a lifeline, crying into the plush material in a way you haven’t since you were a child. You’ve really proven yourself useless now. You officially have nothing to offer this planet, and the Baron has made that well-known. But what else can you expect when you are incapable of doing the things that are expected of you? How can you expect not to lose the one thing you care about if you cannot give him what he needs?
“If you cannot provide him an heir, you are worth nothing” is what the Baron declared in front of all that exists of his court.
Nothing—the word bounced around the walls of your skull before it finally sank in. You’ve never been nothing until now. You’ve always held some sort of value in some manner or other, even if that manner is in being a political pawn. But no. Here, now, you’re nothing to these people.
At first, you pleaded with him, nearly fell to your hands and knees and told him you’d only been trying for a few months. A few months barely qualifies as adequate time. On your home planet, medical intervention is not discussed until the couple has gone a year with no success. But you’re not on your home planet; there is no medical intervention, and all the Baron said in response was: A few months is too long. You will divorce in a week's time.
Feyd doesn’t know. For the last five days, he’s been on Arrakis, and it was on the third day of his absence that you once again woke to stained sheets. He’ll be disappointed in you, just like the Baron, just like the people of Giedi Prime, just like your parents who agreed to marry you to Feyd for the sake of an alliance that will soon be broken.
When he returns, they’ll tell him, and he’ll nod with acceptance because that is what he does under order, and you’ll be shipped off. You’ll never see him again. He’ll remarry. He’ll become a father to a child by a woman who is not you. He’ll raise what the people want. He’ll do them proud.
You wonder if he’ll miss you as you will miss him. Will he ever think of you and wish you were in her place? Will he look at the children she’s borne him and wonder what your children would have looked like had you the chance to have them? Will he see their hair and imagine your locks flowing down to their little shoulders? If he peers into their eyes, will he prefer them a shade to match yours instead of hers? You wonder if he’ll be filled with sorrow at what could have been.
Selfish to think it. There’s no reason to assume he will not enjoy the pleasure his new wife will offer. Neither are you fair in hoping that when he’s inside of her, making the children the Baron demands, he will be thinking of you.
You cry harder. Your pillow will take ages to dry. Perhaps you’ll move on to his. Soak in the scent of him before you’re ripped away from him and returned to what will be considered by many the end of your life. No other Lord, or future Lord, will take you, not after being owned by a Harkonnen—tainted meat, as they say. You’ll be a burden on your family, an embarrassment to your House’s people, a waste of valuable blood.
—
Touch stirs you: a soft brush of fingertips over your tear-stained cheek, a thumb grazing over your parted mouth.
Then a voice. “Wake up.” Your groan of resistance is cut short by a press of lips against yours. A quick peck and then another. “Wake up,” it says, and then one more kiss, much longer this time, that you return before bothering to open your eyes. Your arms wrap around a familiar neck. A tongue gently glides along yours. And then it’s gone. Stolen from you. You want it back.
Your eyes snap open. At the sight of him sitting beside you, you gasp, quickly scrambling onto his lap. He holds you without question or word. He holds you close to him. You hold him like you never will again.
Leaning into his body, you push him down onto the mattress and he lands on his back with a chuckle. Your legs straddle his hips, your weight resting comfortably on top of his, and with his hand in your hair, he pulls you back into a kiss. Gentle at first, a caress, then harder, needier, greedier. He could bruise you if he wanted, leave his mark, and you invite him to. Something to take back home with you—a bruising kiss. You hope it hurts. You hope you internally bleed and purple blooms around your mouth. You hope it never fades and you wear the reminder of him for the rest of your life.
His lips part. His tongue is back in your mouth, asking for yours. You savor the slick warmth, knowing you’ll never again be kissed like this. To be honest, you never thought you would be kissed like this at all. You didn’t know kisses like this existed. If someone had told you a year ago that this man would be kissing you this way, with a passion you wouldn’t have dreamed him capable of releasing, you’d have laughed them out of the room.
He unlocks your mouths for a breath and gifts you a smile. Rare. Almost out of place on his face. The first one you received was five months into your marriage, and you’ve never gotten used to them.
“I missed you,” he says, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.
You want to tell him how you’ve missed him, how painful it’s been without him by your side, but you don’t know that you can speak the words, not without every emotion you’ve felt over the last few days bubbling to the surface and overpowering your joy at seeing him—the last time you’ll greet him upon his return before you’re gone.
He frowns. “You didn’t miss me?” he asks, and since you can’t deny him a damn thing, you gather the will to say: “Of course I did,” but your throat catches midway through. You can’t look at him. He allows it for a few seconds, giving you a chance to meet his stare on your own, but when you don’t, his fingers on your chin turn your face back to his so you can no longer avoid the prying blue shade of his irises.
“What is it?” he says.
“I know he told you.” There’s a brief pause before your husband hums in acknowledgment. Fingertips trace up and down your spine over the thin material of your nightgown. “The doctor was ordered to examine me after I bled. He’s not sure I’m able to give you a baby. And the Baron–”
“My uncle does not make my decisions for me,” he declares, and you’re so stunned by the defiance that it takes you a moment to collect yourself.
“Feyd, do you not understand? I don’t know if I can do it,” you tell him. “My body is–”
“Perfect,” he interrupts. “You’re perfect, and you’re mine. You will never belong to another man, nor will I belong to another woman.”
“Neither of us has a choice.”
“You believe so?”
Your brow pinches, mouth setting in a line. If he’s playing a game, you’re not enjoying it. “As if you aren’t aware of who has the power here.”
“I am aware,” he says. “But Rabban is dead. I’m all that’s left of our line. If he wants his heir, then I’m keeping my wife.”
He speaks with such certainty that the charge of excitement you get whenever you watch him take command of his armies seeps into you, giddily wiggling all of your little nerve endings. But the feeling fades as fast as it came. It changes nothing. Whether or not he defies his uncle does not alter your circumstances.
You sigh. “But what of your heir?”
“We’ll keep trying,” he says. “You’re not going anywhere. I'm too attached. He doesn’t get to marry me to a woman like you and then take you away.”
“A woman like me, who might not be able to give you what you need,” you say. “Why aren’t you bothered?”
“Having my heir is not where your worth lies to me. If we cannot have a baby, we will take someone else's,” he tells you without snicker or grin. His fingers fist into the material of your nightgown. “Now take this off. I want my wife.”
“I am still bleeding.”
He scoffs. “When have I ever cared?”
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CALL OF THE SEA / PART FOURTEEN
pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, idk how to label this one so as always be warned? masterlist a/n: this is a more chill chapter w some drama ooo. next chapter i will try to make longer because we have a lot about to happen and a lot of progress that's being made but needs to move faster :,) i work two jobs now and work 14 hour days so thank you for being patient with me as i navigate through that. this story's lowkey falling off and not as many people seem to be into it which is fine but as always ily <3
When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.
You woke with a heavy heart riddled with anxiety. The room was empty and dim, the sun fighting to peek through the small window without much victory. The air felt unusually gloomy, more than it normally did majority of the time.
You weren’t sure where Soap and Gaz ran off to, but you were more than grateful to have the time to yourself. Last night had you in a chokehold, and you knew it was the reason your heart felt like a thick lump in your chest.
Giving the telescope to Gaz. Sitting under a wishful sky together. Feeling his finger graze your cheek in a way that had your heart fighting against your rib cage.
Was he going to kiss you? Is that what that was? The mood of it all, it was so foreign you could barely grasp the concept, but it was the only theory you could come up with.
The mere thought had your mind in shambles, but your soul erupting a fire. You didn’t know what that meant, nor did you know if it was what you wanted to happen.
The Captain wouldn’t be too happy if his crew were messing around with you, would he? Why were you so worried about what he would think?
You could feel the tension in your head building to the point it was near explosive. With a groan, you stood from the bed, trying your hardest to shake it off for long enough. You didn’t want to seem like you were avoiding Gaz, or like you were having an inner battle with yourself. You wanted to appear absolutely normal.
You couldn’t help but glance in the direction of your dresses, where they were folded neatly on top of the desk. You had yet to wear them, and the many shirts you’d borrowed from them up until this point were beginning to bring you a sense of dread every time you’d be forced into a new one.
It wasn’t hard to make up your mind on which one. You had mostly muted colors as not to stick out like a sore thumb, so you picked the one that’d keep you most hidden, even if it was just the five of you on a ship to nowhere.
Preparing yourself for departure, you crept down the deck of the ship. The weather outside was unhappy, the sun tucked away behind gray clouds that looked ready to boil over any minute. The waves weren’t the calming serenity they were last night, replaced by ones that angrily kissed the sides of the wooden ship and rocked you off balance.
The breeze carried the scent of seawater, and you inhaled greedily, using it to calm your nerves. Why were you nervous, anyway? It was silly to even ask yourself, but maybe you were overthinking Gaz’s intentions. A lack in judgment, something you were worried you made.
You lifted a hand, grazing across the cheek he’d touched just hours ago. If you focused really hard, you could still feel it, and you did your best to ignore the somersaults in your stomach.
Entering the food hall, you were greeted with the sight of the men sitting around one another, feasting on breakfast just as they had done the first time you ate with them. They looked like animals that had never seen food in their life.
How long had it been since you all properly sat down and ate as one? You couldn’t remember.
“Dove!” Soap called out, a smile instantly brightening his face. You cringed at the mess surrounding his mouth.
You failed to notice Ghost stiffening in his seat, as well as Gaz sitting up straighter at light speed. The Captain turned his head to you, greeting you with a warm smile.
“Mornin’, dove,” he said, and you offered a nod, stepping up to the table.
Before Price could offer you a seat, Soap patted the empty one beside him, greedily taking up the attention.
“Yer wearin’ one of the dresses,” Soap awed, taking in the simple details stitched into the fabric.
Having a moment of self consciousness, you awkwardly plucked at one of the stitches, nodding. “It’s not too much, is it?”
“Not at all,” he assured, beaming. “Right, Cap?”
You looked up to meet Price’s eye, who cleared his throat, nodding uncomfortably. He took a swig of his drink before placing it back down, hand lingering around the cup. “Mm. S’nice.”
You shooed away the brief flicker of disappointment that threatened its way in. You were going crazy. Why did you have the urge to seek approval anyway? It was absurd.
Soap was quick to his feet, claiming to grab you some food before he’d be right back. There was an awkward gap in between you and Gaz and when you looked at him, he beat you to it, eyes raking down from your face to take in the dress.
You felt your skin turn warm to the touch.
You quickly averted your attention to Ghost, praying to have a bit of normalcy but he was avoiding you rather than looking at you like Gaz was. His shoulders were tense, gaze laser focused on his bowl of breakfast. You could sense the furrow of his eyebrows, even beneath the mask. There was something about him that seemed lost, deep in thought.
Ghost always looked like that. Today, however, felt different.
“Good morning, Ghost,” you greeted kindly. To your surprise, he said nothing, only giving you a low grunt of acknowledgement that was tinged with a slight bitterness that made your ears hurt.
Frowning, you plucked at the stitch on your dress harder, only stopping when Soap returned with a hefty bowl of fresh breakfast, enough for a family.
“Soap, I do not think I need that much,” you worried, watching him set it down in front of you before plopping next to you.
“Nonsense, bonnie, ye gotta eat up,” he encouraged, pushing the bowl closer to you. “Ye look nice, by the way. I told ye the dresses were pretty.”
“You said pretty?” Gaz asked, raising an eyebrow.
Soap scoffed, waving him away. “Droolin’ like a dog, mind ye. Wipe yer mouth.”
Gaz sputtered, grumbling to himself and finally tearing his eyes away. You grew embarrassed for him.
Reluctantly, you began eating, taking small bites at a time. Soap watched you like a hawk, enough to where Gaz kicked him under the table, muttering a, “who’s droolin’ now?”
“Dove,” Price said, and you perked up. “I’d like to discuss a few things with you later. Would that be alright?”
“Ach, Cap, let the lass eat,” Soap scolded, and quickly slumped down like a kicked puppy when Price threw him a look of warning.
“That will be alright,” you assured, smiling politely. “Is it to do with Graves again?”
Before Price could reply, Ghost slammed his hands flat on the table, pushing himself to a stand. He gave none of you a second glance before he was stomping out of the dining hall, slamming the door aggressively on his way out.
The sound and sight made you recoil, visibly wincing. Ghost had been on edge, and you knew it was slowly building. Graves must have been driving him mad.
Guilt tugged at your heartstrings.
“I’ll go check on ‘im,” Soap mumbled, pulling himself out of his seat and following after Ghost mindlessly.
It wasn’t until it was only you, Price, and Gaz that the tense silence was broken.
“Poor lad,” Gaz murmured to himself, shaking his head and stabbing at his food with his fork.
“What’s happening with him?” you asked, worried.
Price tapped his fingers along the table, lips pursed and eyes stuck on the door. “Nothin’, dove,” he sighed.
You frowned at him. “No. You’re doing it again, Price.”
He turned away from the door and at you, cocking his head. Price frowned back at you before nodding slowly in understanding. “Right,” he muttered. “He is… rather guilty of everythin’ happenin’ with you. Killin’ himself about it, really.”
The irony. Ghost was practically undead until Graves decided otherwise.
“Guilty?” you repeated in surprise. “What is he guilty for?”
Gaz sighed heavily, appearing more tired than he did before. “He thinks you’re cursed ‘cause of him,” he explained. “If you hadn’t been with him that day in the town, Graves never would’ve seen you. He blames himself.”
Your eyes went wide the more he spoke, and you felt your own harboring guilt only grow. You felt sick. Not once had you considered Ghost to be the enemy, the reason for your misfortune. Graves was the only one to blame in the game.
“That is nonsense,” you wavered. “He is not to blame.”
“He thinks so,” Price replied glumly. “Do not take it to heart, dove. He has care for you as we do. He simply struggles with it more.”
You knew Ghost cared in his own strange way. He was emotionally constipated, unable to express himself the way a normal person should. You understood why.
“Should I talk to him about it?” you asked, more so to yourself. You weren’t sure how Ghost would take it. He was a firecracker.
“I think that would be nice, birdie,” Gaz agreed with a warm smile that made you stumble for words. “Don’t expect to get very far, though. He’s a stubborn bastard.”
Price snorted quietly, nodding. You couldn’t help but agree as well. You learned that the hard way.
“We do not have to talk until later,” the captain explained. “Finish up eatin’ and talk to him. See where it goes.”
With that, you made quick work of scarfing down the food Soap graciously piled up for you, eating as much as you can. Price dismissed you, giving you an encouraging smile. Gaz nodded to you as you left, hurrying out of the dining hall to find the doomed man where he hid.
You weren’t sure where to start, but the first you assumed was his room. He often resided in there by himself, hiding away like an urchin, quiet as a mouse. You’d never been to his quarters, so the thought of entering had you nervous.
The closer you got, the more your heart pounded. At least Soap would be there to ease the tension, perhaps he could even be helpful in opening Ghost up.
Ghost’s quarters were on the other side of the ship, away from Soap and Gaz’s, so when you stepped into the small hall leading to it, you paused when you noticed the door opened.
Faint murmurs could be heard from beyond the doorway, but it wasn’t loud enough to make out.
Creeping up to the door, you peeked your head in, darting your eyes around before they landed on Soap. Then Ghost.
You had to hold back a noise of surprise when you saw Ghost being coddled by Soap, the Scot’s arms encasing him with his lips to Ghost’s ear, speaking softly to him. The embrace was something passionate, almost as if being held by a lover.
The thing you noticed was Ghost free of his mask, the skull token sitting on the floor as if thrown off. The balaclava beneath it was next to it, and you saw the tufts of blonde hair poking out wickedly on Ghost’s head.
His face was marred, littered with brutal scarring and faint black veins that traveled up his neck and to his jaw. His nose was crooked, as if somebody had bashed it in and it never healed it properly. A nasty scar crossed on his mouth, starting from his top lip and finishing at the bottom.
You were looking at Simon. The one who hid beneath the mask as Ghost. And he didn’t even know you saw.
The guilt became only worse when Soap curled a hand under Ghost’s chin, his thumb stroking his textured cheek before leaning in.
You quickly pulled back from the doorway, heart racing. You looked away before you saw anything more, but you knew what was about to happen.
Had this been going on the whole time? Were you oblivious? Did the others know?
Images of them embracing flashing repeatedly in your mind, and you felt trickles of envy. The softness of the moment, to have such intimacy and care shared between one another… It was something you longed for and never knew you wanted.
You longed for a hug. You yearned for affection.
When living in the village, it was something you never desired. You despised the idea of settling down with another and spending your life loving them. Now, you realized that it wasn’t the idea you hated — it was that you never saw anybody in that light.
The realization began to hit you fast and hard. And it didn’t feel as great as you wanted it to.
Just as you were beginning to feel at ease with your place in life, you were lost all over again.
You don’t know how long you stood there. You were in a trance, and just as you snapped out of it to rush out of the hall, Soap stepped out, Ghost trailing behind him. Both of them paused in the doorway.
“Dove?” Soap asked in surprise. “Are ye alright? What are ye doin’ here?”
You startled, forcing yourself to act indifferent. You didn’t want to seem strange, as if you’d been lurking. You didn’t even mean to.
“I just got here,” you lied with a forced smile. “I knew you were speaking, so I was waiting outside until it was okay. I was going to speak to Ghost, if that was alright.”
You risked a glance at Ghost. His mask was back on his face, covering the trauma beneath.
“We’ve got a couple of things to do around the ship,” Soap said apologetically. “Lookin’ like a storm’s comin’ soon. Gotta set everythin’ up so we don’t tip over and drown, aye?”
Soap nudged your shoulder with a snicker. You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed and isolated.
“That’s alright,” you murmured quietly.
Ghost eyed you, narrowing in like he didn’t believe you. You swallowed.
“C’mon, lass. Let’s get ye back, aye?” Soap hummed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He began to guide you out of the hall.
“Price wanted to speak with me,” you said. “I will just go to his quarters.”
Soap’s eyebrows raised and he let his arm drop, giving you a nod. “Alright, dove. Ye feel okay? Ye look a bit tired. Didn’t sleep well?”
You dismissed it with a hand, forcing a reassuring smile. “I’m quite alright. No stress.”
Soap looked skeptical and he glanced at Ghost, who merely looked away. “Okay,” he huffed, not quite believing you but trusting you regardless. “Go on then.”
You gave the two a farewell, going your separate ways while you walked back to Price’s room. The walk felt slow, your shoes dragging along the old wooden floors. Your anxiety gnawed at you like a pest, your fingers finding that now familiar stitch on your dress to once again pick at.
Your mind was in shambles and you didn’t want Price to notice. How were you to explain what you saw? What if he wasn’t aware of the affair happening between his crew and you ruined it by asking?
You were so engrossed in your own mind that you failed to notice you were already at the door to Price’s. You briefly wondered if he had even returned from the dining hall. He was expecting you to arrive later.
A couple knocks on the door later, Price opened the door. He looked puzzled when he saw you, ushering you inside.
“I take it you didn’t get to talk to Ghost?” he frowned. You shook your head solemnly. “That’s alright. Did somethin’ happen? You look unwell. Was it breakfast? Did it not taste well to you?”
“What? No, breakfast was perfect. Thank you,” you assured. His gaze flickered over your face, studying you. “Ghost and Soap are handling the ship for the storm. The clouds look rather angry, don’t they?”
He knew you were bluffing. He could tell from the way you rambled about the weather of all things.
“Yes, they do,” he agreed suspiciously. Nevertheless, he encouraged you to take a seat at his desk, joining you on his side. A lone cigar sat in his ashtray, unlit, and he grabbed it with nimble fingers to hold it to his mouth and light it with a match.
You watched silently as the smoke began to pour out of his mouth, swirling into wisps in the air.
“The weather always makes me feel a bit uneasy,” he hummed, holding the cigar with two fingers and letting his arm rest on the chair. “Gives me nasty headaches. You got anythin’ that helps with that?”
“Back in my quarters, yes,” you explained. “I still have quite a few balms from my village. I have been meaning to make more. Perhaps I can show you how.”
Price huffed out a laugh, a faint smile hidden in his heard. He took another heavy hit from the cigar, dabbing the excess ash off in the tray. “That would be useful,” he agreed. “I’ve been curious about your skill since you stitched me up so long ago.”
You couldn’t help but smile. The memory at the time was one you weren’t fond of, but now that you look back on it, it wasn’t so bad. You were just scared.
“I have told you from the beginning that I am not a trained medic,” you teased.
“Ach, your stitchin’ job barely left a scar. No need to be so humble.”
You shared quiet laughs before falling into comfortable silence. You allowed him to nurse the cigar until he was ready to speak, but the silence made your mind drift back to what you’d seen moments ago. Curiosity got the best of you.
“Sir?”
“Hm?”
“Are Soap and Ghost… together?”
Price paused, cigar hanging from his mouth. He cocked his head curiously, taking in your question. “Why do you ask?”
You fumbled, wringing your hands in your lap awkwardly. “I am just… wondering.”
He stared at you as if could see right through your deception. “Define, together.”
“I think you know what I mean, sir.”
Price snorted, resting his cheek on his hand. “Does that bother you, dove? Or perhaps you want to join them?”
Your eyes widened and you quickly sputtered out an explanation, shaking your head. “No, not at all!”
Price barked out a laugh, eyes crinkling with it. You chewed on your bottom lip until it felt raw, wishing you hadn’t even asked.
“I am simply teasin’ you. Relax,” he mused, tapping out the cigar. “It is a complicated relationship. Much more complicated than you could assume.”
“Is that so?” you murmured to yourself, wondering. “Complicated how?”
Price’s eyebrows raised and he remained quiet for a moment. “I did not take you to be the type to gossip about love of all things, dove.”
“Please do not jest me.”
Price smiled in amusement. “My apologies, princess,” he taunted. You scowled. “Curiosity killed the cat, don’t you know that?”
“Of course I know that,” you uttered in annoyance at Price’s inconspicuous mockery.
“Unless it is Soap you wish to be with,” he continued.
“I—” You hated how the thought made your heart jump. “It is not!”
“Good,” he said with a smile. You shut your mouth, frowning at him in disapproval. “I was goin’ to speak more with you about Graves, but perhaps Soap was right. You need a break from it for the day. Rather, would you like to show me that medicine makin’ that you mentioned?”
Medicine making? The Captain was a strange man. The strangest of them all. He gave Soap a run for his money.
“I’d much prefer that,” you grumbled, standing so you could return to your quarters to collect things needed to create jars of herbal medicine.
As you walked out with plans of returning, Price called out once more, “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
You let out an annoyed groan, slamming the door on your way out. It wasn’t enough to silence his snickering.
#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#call of the sea#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#kyle gaz garrick#ghost cod#john price#john soap mactavish#john price x reader#price x reader#captain john price#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick#gaz x reader#soap x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#soap cod#pirate!141#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#ghost simon riley#gaz garrick
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You'd Have to Stop the World...
11.5k words, FWB Eddie X afab!reader, 18+ Explicit Content - MDNI, use of "baby" as a nickname, no use of y/n, little to no description of reader, set in Hawkins 1990 so everyone's aged up accordingly, no mention of upside down - could sorta be canon if you pretend vecna was defeated and eddie never got attacked by the bats but reader wouldn't know it ever existed. * fair amount of smut in this especially the beginning - it's a fwb plot so... but yes, there is plot. lots of angst and some fluff*
a/n: most of my ideas are usually inspired by a song - the concept for this came entirely through a playlist I made, so l added the track list! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and as always, I hope you enjoy! xo, scarlet 💋
Struggling through a dry spell, an ideas comes to you when your attractive friend Eddie vents about his recent disappointing hookups. What starts as casual fun gradually complicates as physical and emotional boundaries begin to blur.
“I keep recalling things we never did / Messy top lip kiss / How I long for our trysts / Without ever touching his skin / How can I be guilty as sin?”
A few years ago, you met Eddie Munson, thanks to an introduction from your then coworkers, Robin and Steve. What began as a casual acquaintance in a larger group quickly evolved into a genuine friendship.
But as with many great friendships, a new romance - this time with Matt - changed the dynamics. As your relationship with Matt grew, so did the distance between you and Eddie. Matt didn’t like him, his dislike fueled by a few key grievances: he accused Eddie of overcharging for weed, could barely tolerate Eddie’s metal music - and was visibly irritated by the number of times you dragged him to Eddie’s shows. Yet, beneath it all, Matt’s discomfort had a more personal edge. He was convinced there was something more to your friendship, despite your insistence on its platonic nature.
“Okay, sure, whatever you say,” Matt insisted, his tone dripping with frustration. “But I’m telling you, he definitely wants to fuck you.”
Matt’s reasoning included:
• “He never makes you pay for weed.”
⁃ Ah, the classic move of the charming drug dealer - Robin and Steve are also lucky recipients of Eddie's personal stash. Generosity? Sure. A sign of deeper feelings? Unlikely.
• “He flirts with you.”
⁃ Eddie flirts with everyone. This isn’t a private act of seduction - it’s his default setting. And sure, before you dated Matt maybe you’d indulge in Eddie’s flirty nature but it was just all in good fun.
• "He call's you - Baby."
⁃ The nickname was not some romantic gesture, Eddie's just a menace. It all started after a shift at Family Video, you and Robin went back to Steve's house. Eddie made an entrance, a blunt was passed, and you started rambling about the ridiculousness of the name "Baby" in Dirty Dancing. "You know, it's funny you hate it because 'Baby' suits you perfectly," Eddie quipped. You shot him a look of annoyance, but Eddie, with that trademark grin, decided it was a keeper and has called you it ever since.
• “The way he fucking looks at you.”
⁃ This is where the plot thickens. While the other signs are easily explained, you didn't quite see what Matt was ever referring to.
Yet, every time Matt voiced his theories, your mind couldn’t help but drift to thoughts of Eddie in bed. He had quite the reputation as a good fuck and it was undeniable that he was incredibly attractive. But the guilt of entertaining these thoughts, especially while with Matt, was crushing. So, you shoved them aside.
In December of '89, Matt accepted a job that meant relocating out of state. By then, your relationship had lost its spark, of course, except for the one area where it still managed to flicker - the bedroom. You both knew it was time to let go, the idea of a long distance romance wasn't practical when the only thing holding you together required physical proximity you would no longer share.
Despite it being the obvious choice - the end of nearly two years together was tough, but as the saying goes, when one door closes, another opens. With Matt no longer in the picture, your calendar quickly filled with late nights and laughter, surrounded by Robin, Steve, Eddie, and your ever expanding social circle. It was the start of a new era, as you entered the new decade.
"These fatal fantasies / Giving way to labored breath / Taking all of me / We've already done it in my head / If it's make believe / Why does it feel like a vow / We'll both uphold somehow?"
Four months into being single, and the dry spell was becoming a cruel joke. Every date you'd been on had left much to be desired, as none of them ever ended with you on your back. Ultimately a waste of your time.
It was an added frustration to be out with Eddie and watch him glide from one partner to the next with such ease. You even found yourself feeling a bit envious of his conquests, because the more time you began spending with him, the more you understood why Matt had his suspicions.
On quite a few occasions, you caught Eddie's gaze lingering on you. The stolen glances and charged looks sent your heart racing. Gone were the days of pushing these thoughts away. Now, you found yourself indulging in them, late at night, hand between your thighs, wondering if the fantasies might ever become reality.
“Don’t play dumb, I know you fantasize. You could have me on my back every night.”
One night, after having your friends over for dinner, Eddie decided to stay and chill after Robin and Steve had left. He sprawled on your couch, legs draped over the coffee table, grumbling about the monotony of his recent casual encounters and the lack of sexual chemistry he'd been experiencing.
Eddie looked at you, cutting himself off mid rant, his fingers deftly rolling a blunt. "It's cool if I smoke in here, right? Or d'ya want me to go on the balcony?"
You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I don't usually love it, but why not for tonight?"
With a grin, Eddie continued on his ranting as he finished rolling. Lighting the blunt and taking a long drag when he finished his complaint.
"Okay, but bad sex is more often than not, still enjoyable," you said, in response to his last comment.
Eddie held out the blunt offering you to take a hit and while normally you’re pretty weary to cross fade, you were feeling adventurous as you grabbed it from his fingers taking a hit.
"I get what you're saying, but nothing's been like, mind-blowing. I was getting head the other day, and I was literally counting the minutes until it was over. I think it would've been more enjoyable if I'd just taken care of myself."
You let out a laugh, the smoke escaping in a light cloud. "You think counting maybe prolonged the experience a bit, bud?" Passing the blunt back to Eddie.
"No, baby, the counting's what got me there." He smirked before taking another hit.
You rolled your eyes playfully, but his words sparked thoughts of your own dissatisfaction.
The two of you sat there listening to the soft sounds of The Cure album you had on, as you took turns with the blunt. Eddie's gaze didn't leave you, his eyes focused on your lips - the movements of your mouth. The subtle way your lips parted and closed around the blunt had him entranced.
You were too lost in your own thoughts to notice his staring. "I think this is one of those grass is greener situations. l'd take the bad sex. There's only so much I can satisfy myself, and sometimes I- well, I just want to get railed." The words slipped out before you could fully think them through but as soon as they did, you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks.
Eddie's eyes widened slightly, a blush of his own creeping onto his face as he exhaled smoke. "Oh sure." You'd always been open about discussing sex, but this was a new level of candor for you and it caught him by surprise. It also made his cock twitch.
You weren't sure what it was - the alcohol, the pot, the adrenaline from your embarrassment, - but Eddie's complaints mixed with your own dissatisfaction sparked an idea. You set your wine glass down, turned to face him, and criss-crossed your legs on the couch.
Passing what was left of the blunt back, you asked the question that's been on your mind for weeks.
”Eddie… are you attracted to me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.
"What?" He asked as he put the blunt out.
"Eddie," you pressed.
He chuckled, the sound a bit shaky. "Everyone thinks you're pretty, you know that."
"That's not what I asked," you countered. "I'm asking if you think I'm like, hot - not just pretty."
A smirk played on Eddie's lips as his eyes scanned over your figure, nodding. “Yeah, you’re hot,” he said, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes linger on how the soft fabric of your clothes hugged your chest. Truth be told, he thought you were fucking heaven sent.
"So why haven't you made a move? I've been single for months."
"You know me, baby. No attachments. Couldn't have you falling in love with me."
You scoffed. "Really, that's your excuse?"
His gaze met yours, a touch of defensiveness in his eyes. "It's not an excuse. It's just how I am. I don't hook up with friends, it can get messy."
"Got it," you replied, considering letting it go, but curiosity had taken hold. "Do you ever fantasize about them, though?”
A wry smile appeared on his lips. "Depends on the friend, I guess.”
"Cut the shit, Munson.”
His smile grew. "Alright, yeah. A lot more than I probably should have.”
You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "If it's any consolation, I've fantasized about you a fair bit too.”
"Oh, yeah?" he breathed, his voice huskier than before.
"Mmm-hmm." You shook your head slowly, maintaining eye contact. You noticed the way Eddie's eyes darted down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.
"What about?" he asked.
"I could tell you," you whispered, "or I could show you.”
Eddie's laughter was shaky as he looked away, running his hand through his hair. "Tempting," he whispered, leaning back and trying to create some distance. His arousal, however, was unmistakable.
The room fell silent. You could see the inner conflict in his eyes: the struggle between desire and his self imposed boundaries. The sight of Eddie's hard cock straining against his jeans had your pulse quickening more than the conversation had. You felt yourself growing wet, the heat between your thighs demanding attention.
"So even though it's clear we both want this, you're willing to just let it go because of some vague principle?" you asked, frustration tinging your voice.
Eddie's expression grew serious. "I wouldn't want to complicate our friendship just to get off.”
"And if I promised you it wouldn't complicate anything, that nothing would have to change - it would just be a good time?”
His breath hitched at your words, his eyes soaking in your presence. "Then... maybe I’d rethink some things."
You sighed, acknowledging his hesitation but also feeling the urgency of your own desire whether Eddie joined you or not.
“Well, you think about that,” you said, standing up and heading toward your bedroom. “You’re welcome to join me if you decide you’re in. If you decide to leave, the spare key is by the door. Just lock up and I’ll get it next time.” You closed the door behind you
Eddie sat on the couch contemplating for all of 5 minutes before his decision was made. Of course he wasn't going to let this moment pass him by. He stood up, his mind racing as he walked toward your room.
When Eddie opened the door, he found you lying in bed, bathed in the amber glow of your lamp, only in your panties. You were lost in your own pleasure, hand moving beneath the fabric, eyes closed tight as breathy moans escaped your lips.
"Fuck," Eddie muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on the scene before him. He froze, taking in every detail. The gentle, desperate movements of your fingers, the soft sway of your breasts, and the way your lips formed an O with every soft whimper. He was mesmerized.
He moved closer, cautious not to disrupt the moment. You whispered his name, soft and needy. "Eddie..."
The sound of your voice, so vulnerable and inviting, was nearly enough to push him over the edge. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that came from the very core of his being. As he stood at the end of the bed, your eyes fluttered open, taking in his presence.
You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on his face, the way his gaze was fixed on you.
Looking at you like this, made him feel as if he was witnessing the eighth wonder of the world. "What are you thinking of?" Eddie asked, needing to understand what was driving you.
"That this is your hand instead of mine, just like l've been imagining for weeks," you admitted, voice trembling slightly.
Eddie's breath hitched. "Can I see all of you?" he asked, desperation lacing his voice as he sat on the edge of the bed.
You nodded, slowly sliding your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, revealing your glistening cunt. You returned your hand, teasing yourself gently. Eddie's eyes were fixed on you, the sight almost too much for him to bear, a low whimper escaping his lips.
"How would you touch me, if it were your fingers?" you asked, voice a seductive whisper.
Eddie slid up from his spot on the edge of the bed, closer to your side, as he began directing you on how he would pleasure you, eyes glued to your movements. "I'd start by gently tracing my fingers, just like you are now."
You whimpered as he continued his instructions, caught between the fantasy he was describing and the reality of your own touch. His guidance was driving you wild, but the need for his direct touch was growing unbearable. Breathlessly, you said, "Eddie, please."
“Tell me what you need,” he rasped, his eyes locked on yours.
“Touch me,” you pleaded.
Eddie knew what you meant; you wanted him to replace your fingers - but he needed to kiss you and at the vague request for his touch he couldn't help but use that as his cue. He leaned in, his body hovering over yours, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was rough, and raw as if years of restrained longing were unleashed in that heated moment. His lips were demanding, his tongue wrestled with yours, the taste of beer mixing with moscato. You bit his lip and Eddie’s groan was deep.
His free hand found its way to your thigh, gripping it tightly, driving you further into your own touch. The intensity of his actions only heightened your pleasure. You gasped into his mouth as your climax hit. Eddie’s grip on your thigh never letting up as you clung to him, struggling to steady yourself through your orgasm.
As the waves began to subside, you whispered raggedly, “I need you.”
Eddie trailed his hand from your thigh to your cunt, only for you to stop his hand. “No. I need more, I need you inside of me. Now.”
Eddie groaned at your desperate plea for him to fill you. Without a word, he began undressing. His breathing was labored as he quickly removed his shirt, tossing it aside. He fumbled with his jeans, eager and clumsy in his haste to free his hard cock. When he finally did, you let out an audible gasp, taking in the sight of him. He was so fucking perfect.
“How do you want it, baby?” He asked, eager to give you anything you’d ask for.
“What have you fantasized about?”
Eddie hesitated, “We don’t have to -”
“Tell me,” you demanded.
“You, um, you’ve got great tits,” he all about moaned. “I think about you riding me a lot.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you pushed him back to lean against the pillows, a sly smile on your lips. You reached for a condom from the nightstand, tearing open the wrapper with a quick, practiced motion, and rolled it over his throbbing cock. Eddie’s eyes followed your every move, sighing at your touch.
With a deep, steadying breath, you positioned yourself above him. Your hands rested on the headboard while his hands gripped your thighs, his fingers digging in as he watched you. Slowly, you began to lower yourself, the initial contact making both of you gasp. The incredible stretch of his cock stung as you lowered yourself down inch by inch. It was almost overwhelming, but so perfectly pleasurable. Eddie’s eyes widened, his breath coming in quick, ragged bursts.
“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. His hands tightened on your thighs, reminding you just how much he wants this.
You continued to sink down, savoring the sensation of being filled. Once fully seated, you paused to adjust, getting accustomed to his size. Eddie wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, but by no means was he small. Close to 7 inches if you had to guess. He was however, the thickest not by an absurd amount but enough to notice the difference. He felt phenomenal.
You began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down. The room began filling with the sound of your mingled moans. As you established a steady rhythm, Eddie’s moans grew more frequent, his grip sure to leave bruises. “Fuuuuuck,” he repeated, his voice rough with pleasure.
You shifted from leaning forward to putting your full weight on him, arching your back slightly as you moved your hands from the headboard to behind you, resting them on his thighs. In this position, you had better control and began to increase your pace.
“Aghh - just like that,” Eddie groaned. “Show me how much you want it." Eddie’s eyes were locked on you, taking in every detail - the bounce of your breasts, the flush on your cheeks, the intense pleasure on your face. You looked stunning.
He moved his hands to your breasts, groaning as he squeezed them gently. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up, his hands moving to roam over the rest of your body as he began kissing your skin. He started at your collarbone and moved along your chest until he reached your left breast. Kissing and nipping at the soft skin before enveloping your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You shuddered at the added stimulation, moving to rest your hands on his shoulder for better stability as he moved his mouth to your right nipple.
You were finding it hard to keep quiet, biting your lip to stifle your moans as the combination of his mouth and the fullness of his cock drove you closer to ecstasy.
Eddie, however, was having none of that. Removing his mouth from you chest, “Don’t hold back," he rasped. "Let the whole fucking building know how good it feels to have my cock inside you.”
You let yourself moan freely, the sounds echoing in the room as you quickened your pace.
"Ooooohhh god,” you cried out as your orgasm began to build.
You swirled your hips, adding a tantalizing motion that made Eddie mumble curses of pleasure. His hands moved to your hips, gripping firmly as he reclined against the pillows. You leaned forward with him, placing your arms on his chest for support as you rode him with increased intensity.
“Such a good girl,” Eddie said in awe, his eyes locked on you as you chased your orgasm. The praise spurred you on, and you let out a loud cry. Eddie’s lips curled into a wry smile as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.
“You like that, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
You whimpered a feeble “yes,” your voice barely audible as you tried to keep up with the intense pleasure.
“Thought you might,” he chuckled. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me,” Eddie instructed.
That was all it took. Your hips began to falter as your orgasm ripped through you, sending your body into a shuddering climax. Eddie’s groans of satisfaction grew louder as he watched you come undone on top of him. He gripped your hips tightly, taking over control and thrusting into you with a fierce rhythm, pushing you seamlessly into another orgasm.
As you came down, your body collapsed against Eddie's, still trembling from the aftermath of your third orgasm. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming you. Eddie, sensing your exhaustion, slowed his thrusts, his hands gently tangling in your hair as he lifted your face to look at him.
“Shit Eds” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I can come again.”
Eddie’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Sure you can, baby. You haven’t even gotten what you wanted yet,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before repositioning you both.
The sudden loss of him inside you made you whimper, the emptiness leaving you desperate to be filled again. Eddie lifted you, placing you on your knees, and then knelt behind you. His hands took hold of your hips, and he lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you with a forceful, deep motion. The immediate fullness made you moan, the new position allowing him to penetrate you more deeply and hit your g-spot perfectly with every thrust.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” you cried out, your voice raw with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless rhythm.
“This is what you wanted, right baby? To get railed?” Eddie asked, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper. His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass as he drove into you.
“Yes!” you cried out. “Please Eddie, harder,” tears streaming down your face. He responded by pounding into you just as you asked.
Leaning forward, Eddie kissed the skin along your back, his teeth grazing your flesh with gentle bites, adding another layer of sensation. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles white from the strain, as desperate cries of pleasure fell from your lips. His left hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it frantically.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need. Eddie’s fingers worked your clit with determined precision, the added stimulation making it clear you were about to lose it.
As the pleasure built to its peak, you screamed his name, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came. Eddie’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts never faltering as he felt you clenching around him.
“There it is,” he moaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you coming undone. Your mascara ran down your cheeks in streaks, merging with your tears as you reached the height of your pleasure. Eddie continued to pound into you as your orgasm subsided, savoring the way you responded to him.
He was relentless, driven by his own need to reach his climax. He removed his hand from your clit, gripping your hips firmly as he thrusted into you with increased force. “I want you to cum with me,” he growled.
You cried out, your voice filled with desperation. "I-I ahhh..." Your words were swallowed by your moans as Eddie kept thrusting.
"You can do it," he encouraged, his voice low and steady. "I know you can."
Eddie's thrusts grew more intense, his rhythm never faltering as he drove you toward another climax. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his own breath coming in ragged bursts as he neared his release.
"Atta girl," Eddie growled. His thrusts grew sloppy, driven by the raw intensity of the moment. You clenched around him, surrendering to the pleasure as euphoria washed over you. The sensation was all consuming, a final, powerful climax that left you gasping.
Eddie's own climax hit hard. He let out a string of moans, his body shuddering as it hit. His thrusts became erratic, his grip on your ass tightening as he rode out his release.
Eddie collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, basking in the afterglow. The intensity of the night had left you feeling dizzy and euphoric, your body still tingling from multiple orgasms - five mind blowing orgasms, to be exact. The most you’d ever had with a partner before was three - and while still sensational it was nothing compared to this. Making it clear that Eddie Munson was the best fuck you’ve ever had.
As you started to come down, you glanced over at Eddie. He was staring at the ceiling, his face a mix of disbelief and deep thought. "Eddie, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
"Can I level with you?" he asked, his voice serious.
"Of course," you replied.
"It's pretty obvious that what we just had was too good to be a one-off," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "And it's not going to be easy to just go back like this never happened. I mean, I can't just pretend I don't know you've got a praise kink." He teased.
"Eddie!" You laughed, giving him a playful nudge.
"I'm only half kidding. I clocked that shit when I tried to teach you guitar, this just confirmed it," he admitted with a grin.
You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. “So, what's your point?"
He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow and looking at you seriously. “If you can handle keeping it casual, I think we should do this again.”
“Fucking hell, Munson didn't we address this on the couch? I wanted to fuck you, I'm not in love."
Eddie laughed. “Right, I know. But sometimes it can lead to that, and I just want to make sure you understand if we continue to hook up it will never be anything but physical. I can never offer you more, is that clear?"
You grinned. “Crystal."
"So, friends with benefits?” He asked.
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your eyes locked with his.
"It's a Sexually Explicit Kind of Love Affair"
Two months had passed since you and Eddie established your friends-with-benefits arrangement, and you had both adhered to a set of rules: open communication, no exclusivity, and keeping things private. Your frequent hookups had become a thrilling part of your routine, each encounter more intense than the last, and quite a few that were unforgettable.
Fucked You in the Bathroom When We Went to Dinner: The two of you went to dinner with your friends to celebrate Vicky’s birthday. Amid the celebrations, you and Eddie shared knowing glances across the table and when the opportunity arose, you both slipped away, heading towards the restaurant's bathroom.
As soon as the door closed behind you, Eddie's hands were on you, pulling you close. He pressed your back against the wall, as his lips found yours in a rough kiss. His mouth began trailing along your jaw as you you reached down to unbuckle his belt. Eddie's pants were down around his knees, his hands hiking your dress up, growling when he saw you had no panties on. You lifted your leg, resting it on the sink, back still pressed to the wall as Eddie wasted no time before guiding himself into you. Your hands immediately threading through his hair as he sunk in.
Eddie's thrusts were urgent and desperate. "Fuck, can’t get enough of you," Eddie gasped, his breath hot against your neck.
You could only respond with a series of breathless moans. The pleasure building rapidly as Eddie's movements grew more intense. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he drove into you.
Your climax was approaching quickly, and you couldn't help but let out shrieks of pleasure. Eddie's hand reluctantly coming to cover your mouth to stifle the sounds. He loved hearing you, but not here.
“Shh, baby. I know," he whispered feeling you beginning to clench around him. You bit the palm of his hand to stop the scream that was desperate to escape you as your climax hit. His thrusts growing erratic as he came with you, burying his face in your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
As you both caught your breath, you quickly adjusted your clothes, and you fixed Eddie's hair. You walked out first heading back to the table. Eddie arrived a few minutes later, drink in his hand as if he had been at bar the whole time, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he sat down.
Knee Deep in the Passenger Seat: It'd been a lively evening out at the bar playing pool with Chrissy, Eddie and his bandmates. You were keenly aware of the effect your outfit was having on Eddie as you'd chosen a particularly short skirt that barely covered your lacy black panties if you moved too much. So each time you bent over to take a shot, your underwear was tantalizingly visible.
As you lined up for another shot, Eddie approached, leaning in close. To any onlookers it would seem like he was giving you a tip to make your shot. "You're such a fucking tease," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You turned your head slightly, catching his eye with a sly grin. "I know, but you love it," you whispered back.
Eddie's gaze was fixed on you as he walked back to his spot against the wall. As you knelt over the table to take your shot, a smirk tugged at your lips knowing he was clearly struggling to focus on anything other than the view you were providing.
If Eddie could have had his way, he would have sunk to his knees right there and ate you out while you were bent over that pool table. But patience is a virtue.
As you turned to face him after landing your shot, you knew he was trying to maintain his composure.
When it was time to leave, Eddie offered to take you home. "Chris, I’ve got her. I pass her apartment on my way home anyway.” While that was true, you knew that wasn't his plan.
As you walked out, Eddie's eyes never left you, his gaze focused on the way your hips swayed with each step. When you reached the van, he opened the passenger door for you and you slid into the seat, feeling his intense gaze on you.
As you settled in your seat, you looked at Eddie who was still standing next to you. A sly grin pulling at his lips, as he stepped in. You were confused until he knelt down on the floor in front of you, shutting the door. His expression one of eagerness.
With his hands now gripping your thighs, he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against your skin. "I've been wanting to taste you all fucking night," he hummed, his voice low and filled with need.
You looked down at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. "Aw look at you, did I tease you so much that you can't even wait?"
Eddie’s big doe eyes, looked a lot less innocent in this position, darkening at your words. Hunger written all over his face.
In an instant he pulled your panties to the side, leaning forward so his head was nestled between your thighs. His tongue making contact with your bare slit, with a tantalizing slow lick. You gasped at the feeling. Eddie moaned against your pussy, "You taste so goddamn good,” his voice vibrating through your core.
The moment his tongue touched your clit, he was relentless, alternating between licking and sucking. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he savored you.
Within just a few short minutes you were a moaning mess, hands tangled in his hair, breath ragged, eyes screwed tight as you could feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm. Then suddenly, Eddie pulled away. Your release immediately ripped away from you.
His face flushed and glistening with your essence, looked up at you with a smirk. “Look at that, I can be just as much of a tease as you," he rasped.
You whined at the loss of contact. "Please, Eddie.”
“You’ll have to wait, baby.” He said, readjusting your underwear and skirt, wiping his mouth as he dipped out of the van and walked to the drivers side.
Truth be told, this was just as upsetting for him as it was for you. You were intoxicating and if he was being honest he’d love nothing more than to continue to devour your sweet cunt until you came all over his tongue - multiple times. But he thought it only fair that you feel the same strain that he had all night. He’d make it worth the wait when he got you to his trailer.
You're on your knees, I'm on the case: You had the day off, so what better way than to spend it in Eddie's bed. When you arrived at his trailer, he answered the door shirtless, wearing only boxers with a towel draped over his shoulder.
"I'm about to shower," Eddie said, ushering you inside and closing the door behind you. "I'll be out soon. Feel free to watch TV, the remote's on the table."
As Eddie went to shower, you settled on his couch, finishing up the episode of Seinfeld that was on. After about ten minutes, you began to get restless.
You could hear the shower running, steam cascading into the hall because Eddie didn't shut the door completely. You made your way to the bathroom, knocking on the door to let him know you were there as you walked in.
"Be out in a second, just gotta rinse my hair."
"Mind if I join ya instead?"
There was a brief pause before he responded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure, come on in."
You quickly undressed and slipped into the shower the steam enveloping you. You were facing Eddie as the water was cascading down his hair. Some droplets hitting your body, as Eddie glanced over you with a grin.
You gave him a playful smirk before immediately dropping to your knees, positioning yourself in front of his hardening cock. Eddie's eyes locked onto you, filled with anticipation.
Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, the warmth of the water mingling with the heat of your breath. Eddie's response was immediate. His breath hitched, at the feeling. "Ahhh," he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure.
You began to move, sliding your lips up and down his length with practiced ease. Eddie's hands gripped the shower bar for support, his fingers tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Holy Shit," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're so good, that feels so fucking good."
You continued your rhythm, your mouth and tongue working him expertly. Eddie's groans grew louder, the pleasure clearly overwhelming him. "Oh god, yes," he panted, his hips thrusting gently to match your movements.
The water continued to cascade around you both, mingling with the sounds of Eddie's pleasure as you pushed him closer to the edge. "Don't stop, baby" he urged, his voice breaking. "I'm gonna cum."
With a final, deep stroke, Eddie came hard. You kept your mouth on him, sucking every drop as he moaned and gasped, his hands gripping the shower wall for dear life bracing himself.
His face was flushed, a mix of steam and sweat glistening on his skin. He looked down at you with awe and satisfaction. "You're fucking amazing," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
You stood up, and Eddie cupped your face, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. As your mouths moved together ,his cock began hardening again, ready for round two in his room.
"I know, "Baby, No Attachment!"
As the months passed the frequency of your encounters with Eddie had evolved beyond merely getting off. At first you considered that it was just your friendship deepening, but as time went on, you couldn't help but feel that these interactions between you were teetering the line of something more.
Eddie's band practices had effortlessly blended into your weekly routine. “Want to come to practice again?” he’d ask, flashing a grin. The first time he invited you, you joked about whether he had a fantasy of hooking up in Gareth’s garage or something. Eddie only laughed and said, “Nah, I just figured you might enjoy hearing us play and I thought it’d be nice to have you there.” Of course you went, and enjoyed every second of it, maybe even more than the shows. Seeing Eddie perform offstage, goof around with his bandmates, and brainstorm new arrangements was incredibly fun to witness.
By the third week into attending practice, Eddie offered another invitation. “Want to come with me to visit Wayne this Sunday?” he asked one afternoon. You hadn’t seen Wayne since he left Eddie the trailer, and although the invite surprised you, you agreed. Wayne’s warm hospitality was a delight, and seeing Eddie with his uncle gave you a new insight into his life - it felt special that he shared it with you.
You began noticing more changes in your own habits. Instead of going to social events alone, you often opted to ride with Eddie. Your weekend hookups had bloomed into near everyday occurrences, leading you to spend a lot more time at his trailer, as it offered much more privacy than your apartment - Eddie and you were rather loud. Eddie's loud anyway, but when he's inside you he doesn't shut up. Always talking you through it, telling you how good you're making him feel and he loves hearing what he does to you, so you never hold back.
On more than a few occasions you’d accidentally fallen asleep over there, and eventually Eddie just began inviting you to stay the night in the first place. Gradually, your personal items like a toothbrush, a few changes of clothes, and your favorite books made their way over. You were there so often that it was shifting from a convenient arrangement to something that felt more like a shared space.
The boundaries you’d set were being tested, and it was becoming harder to maintain the pretense that this was purely physical. The line between attraction and emotional connection was blurring, and although Eddie had always insisted that this arrangement was meant to stay casual, his actions seemed to contradict that. In those soft moments with him, at practice or Wayne's, or when you were lying in his bed wrapped up in his arms after another incredible fuck, you found yourself dreaming of more and every time you did you'd think back to Matt's insistence that there was something between you and Eddie. Back then you thought it was Matt's jealously, eventually giving way that it was underlying attraction but now like this you can't help but think maybe there has always been more simmering between you both.
You didn't dare say it though, you wanted to remain the “chill girl” who didn’t push. But the more time that passed the more you felt caught between holding your tongue and addressing the growing complexity of the situation.
"It's fine, it's cool, you can say that we're nothing but you know the truth."
The summer heat was beginning to wane as you and Eddie arrived at Steve’s Labor Day party.
You were enjoying yourself, chatting with Nancy when you overheard a conversation nearby. Eddie was talking to Chrissy, who had just referred to you and he as a couple.
“Oh, no, we’re not together,” Eddie said, a dismissive edge in his voice as he responded. The words hit you like a slap. You knew what you had signed up for, but it still stung, especially when the lines had been blurring for months.
You attempted to shake it off, focusing on the friends around you. However, as the evening wore on, the frustration you felt was hard to ignore. Eddie’s behavior had been increasingly confusing. And this comment felt like the final straw - if your friends could see it, why couldn't he?
When the party ended, Eddie drove you back to his trailer with Metallica blasting through the speakers. The music did little to ease the anger you were feeling.
Once inside the trailer, Eddie reached out his hands gripping your waist, as his lips found yours. The kiss felt good, almost intoxicating, but your anger quickly reclaimed its hold as the words "we're not together" echoed in your mind.
You pulled back, needing a moment to regain your composure. Eddie’s eyes searched yours, confusion in his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked softly.
"I'm not really feeling it right now,” you said firmly, pulling away from his touch. "I think I'm going to head home actually."
Eddie’s face fell for a moment before a small smile played at his lips. "You don't need to go, stay the night. We can watch a movie."
A few months ago, this invitation would have felt like a friendly gesture. After all, the beauty of a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement is that it starts with a foundation of friendship. But tonight it was just a bitter reminder of how these nights have morphed into something much more complex. At the start of your arrangement, movie nights often transitioned from watching the film to fucking until the credits rolled. This felt natural, expected. But now the dynamic of movie nights has grown significantly more intimate; cuddling on the couch, Eddie softly playing with your hair, and gentle kisses between scenes. All gestures that are only typical in, well - relationships. You've had enough.
"Eddie, are you being avoidant or are you truly oblivious to what's going on?"
Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?"
"Us. This," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "It feels different, and it has for a while now." You took a deep breath, struggling to steady your voice. "Eddie, even our friends notice it."
"This is about Chrissy's comment?" he asked, annoyance seeping into his voice.
"You were so quick to dismiss it."
"We're not a couple, so that probably has something to do with it," he said, with a laugh. "What was I supposed to say?"
You gave him a short nod, as you began to gather your things. "It's not even about what you said, it's about what you're not saying."
The frustration was evident on Eddie's face. "I thought we were both on the same page about this," he said, following you.
"Dammit, Eddie," you turned towards him, your voice rising. "We were, but it’s hard to feel like we’re still casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser!"
Eddie’s expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he still held his ground. "From the start, I told you I don’t do relationships. I never promised you anything more than what we agreed on."
You scoffed. “I know, and that’s exactly why I’ve kept my mouth shut for so long. But you’ve pulled me into every aspect of your life, and it’s not the same anymore. If you weren’t so hung up on that concept, maybe you’d admit what you’re feeling.”
“Don’t," he said sternly. "Don't try and make me out to be the bad guy because you couldn't keep your own feelings in check.”
His words felt like a punch in your gut. You could feel the lump take perch in your throat, trying to swallow it back but the tears were coming.
Eddie’s expression softened as he noticed your your eyes glistening. He watched helplessly as you continued to pack, his frustration morphing into anguish as tears streamed down your face.
"Wait,” he pleaded. "Let's talk, we can take a step back."
Your hands shook as you stuffed your clothes into your bag, sobs coming in ragged, painful gasps. “A step? We'd have to take twenty," you choked out, your voice breaking.
Eddie looked away, struggling to reconcile your pain with his own fears. "I just, I'm sorry I confused you. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea."
"Maybe you didn't intend for things to change, but they did. We both let them. I did because I liked it, why did you Eddie?"
His stomach twisted at that.
“Every rule we set, you broke," you continued, bitterness lacing your voice. "It was all ‘let’s keep it discreet’ until you kissed me between songs at practice. What the fuck was that?! ‘We need open communication,’ but you never talked about any line we crossed." Your voice rose despite your sobs. "For fucks's sake Eddie, we haven't been exclusive yet for six months, you’ve called after me! Going as far as turning down others because you want me in your bed. Whether we fuck or we don't."
Eddie stood still, motionless, as the weight of your words sunk in.
"You can try to downplay this all you want, but deep down you know. And it's why your past hookups could never satisfy you the way I do.” Tears streamed down your face as you glared at Eddie.
The silence grew heavy between you as Eddie struggled to find a response.
"I don't know what you want me to say. I can’t just flip a switch and become something I’m not. I made my stance clear from the beginning," his voice wavering as he spoke.
You shook your head in disappointment. "Got it." Your tears fell harder, and Eddie’s own eyes were on the verge of tears as he watched you zip up your bag.
“Baby,” he started, his voice trembling as he reached out a hand towards you.
“Don’t, Eddie,” you scolded, your voice a harsh whisper. “You don't wanna call it love, fine. But it's done."
Eddie’s face twisted in confusion and frustration as you finished speaking. He seemed to get only a fraction of what you were saying. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice cracking with desperation. "We'll just go back to how it was before. I mean, we can just forget about all this..."
"You're not getting it, Eds" you replied, your voice steady despite the tears. "I can’t be your friend.”
Eddie’s face contorted with panic. "No, don’t say that," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "I’m sorry I led you on. We can go back - just like it was. We can fix this." Tears welling up as he tries to grasp what you're saying.
"Eddie, it wasn't just that. This whole thing between us has made me realize that maybe… maybe I had feelings for you long before we hooked up."
Eddie's face pales, his panic escalating as he struggles to process what you've just admitted. "What the fuck is happening right now?" he says, his voice rising in distress. He collapses onto the couch, his body shaking as the gravity of the situation hits him full force.
"Before we, before this, you said you didn't," he mutters, almost to himself, as he tries to reconcile your words with his memories.
"I didn’t realize it then," you admit, your voice breaking.
Eddie’s face was wet with his own tears now, his hands trembling as he held his face, listening to you explain.
"I never would’ve let anyone else call me a nickname I hated. Anyone else’s persistence would’ve been stopped but it just sounded so pretty coming from your mouth..." Your voice was choked with emotion. “And I think being honest with myself about that, along with everything we’ve been doing... I've realized that maybe I was being a fool to think it was ever just attraction."
Eddie breaks down, his tears flowing freely. "Goddammit" he chokes out, his voice thick with regret. “I can't-"
You cut him off knowing what he was going to say. "I know Eds, you've made it clear," your voiced cracked, sobs breaking through the words. "You were right to worry this would get messy, I'm sorry I told you I could handle it." You took a deep breath and looked at him one last time, the ache in your chest almost unbearable. You slung your bag over your shoulder, heading for the door. "I'd probably do it again though."
"I don't want to lose you,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper as he tried to hold back his emotions.
Your heart broke at his words but you knew this was the choice you had to make, even if it wasn't what you wanted.
"I have to go," you said as you turned and walked out of the trailer.
“You just need a better life than this / You need somethin' I can never give”
Eddie’s tears fell uncontrollably as you left. Watching you walk away was like a rift tearing through time and space, an unbearable ache that pierced his soul.
His mind spiraled in a loop, like a broken record that kept repeating the same line: It was a mistake. He knew better, he knew better than to get involved with you, but he had, and now you were gone. Eddie had wanted to believe that you could handle something casual, he risked it because he had an insatiable hunger that only you had satiated. His own denial ran so deep he hadn’t even fully accepted the magnitude of what was happening between the two of you until your words hit him like a freight train tonight. But as Eddie sat there, drenched in regret, his mind wandered to all things you.
Eddie had always been branded the freak for being a little outside the box, and while he stayed true to himself it was always a bit toned down when he met new people. However when he met you, he knew he didn't have to do that. While you could fit neatly into the box, you didn't care to. Eddie was instantly captivated by you, and it wasn't just because you were stunning - it was your wit, and charm that pulled him in.
He could never forget the first day he realized he wanted to kiss you. It was one of the early times you hung out - that night you were complaining about "Dirty Dancing." You just kept rambling - so comically irritated, he found it hilarious and he wanted to just shut you up with his lips. He couldn't help himself coining, "Baby" for you. It had felt right rolling off his tongue, and even though you shot him an annoyed look, he could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smile. Eddie then proceeded to try and get you to reenact the lift scene from the movie, but you refused with a firm “Fuck no, Munson.” Robin wouldn't either, but Steve, high as a kite, agreed. Of course it ended with them flat on the floor and the four of you laughing your asses off. For whatever reason that night marked a turning point for your friendship - the two of you began spending time together outside of your shared circle. It was always a little touchy, a little flirty and Eddie was constantly having to push the urge to kiss you outside of his mind.
Steve was always trying to persuade Eddie to just go for it, but Eddie wasn’t interested. He typically only hooked up with the same person three times - if ever more than once. He feared that if he ever got involved with you he wouldn’t be able to go back, and commitment was something he wasn't into. Fast forward three years and nothing's changed. Still, one night around two years ago he nearly let his guard down.
A group of you had gathered at a nearby bar before Corroded Coffin’s first paid show at The Hideout.
“Let me buy a round for you guys, a little liquid courage before tonight!" you insisted. Gareth joked that it wasn't necessary when they had Eddie's good luck charm - You. “Is that why you keep me around, Munson?” you teased, planting a playful kiss on his cheek. “For a little extra luck,” you said with a wink and a smile before heading to the bar. In that moment, Eddie was certain he had to kiss you.
When you returned with a round of tequila shots, your cheeks flushed and your smile bright, you explained that the handsome guy at the bar; Matt - asked you out and then proceeded to buy the round of shots for you when you'd said yes.
As Jeff raised his shot and toasted, "To Matt!" Eddie looked at you, realizing that it was better this way. It would have been foolish to kiss you. You deserved someone who could offer you more.
Eddie’s mind whirled, jumping from that almost kiss to the fateful night on your couch. He should've went home because from that moment everything changed. You were sensational, the way your body responded to him, the way you sounded, the way you made him feel. He was right to know himself, that after a taste, he would never want to go without. He was selfish for this.
The past 6 months together Eddie had recognized little shifts, but he'd ignored them. Looking back it was probably June when things first began to change from the raw thrill of a good time to something that hinted at a little more intimacy. Your presence had turned his bed into a sacred oasis, where he felt truly seen and understood. The laughter, the warmth, the touch - it was all part of a connection he cherished. Yet, every time it felt like it was too much, he would push it out his head, trying to drown out the truth that he felt something more. Even if he wanted to risk all for you, he couldn’t. He wasn’t good enough to make you his.
This painful realization was a truth he had to face. His fear of inadequacy and his belief that he couldn’t sustain a meaningful relationship had driven a wedge between you. And now, with you gone, he was left grappling with the reality that he had pushed away the one person who had made him question his own defenses. Sitting on his couch, a headache pounding from his tears, he tried to sleep, searching for some sort of peace.
In the weeks that followed, Eddie rarely visited his bedroom. It was a space tainted by your absence. His home felt hollow, so he picked up extra shifts at the diner, and crashed at Gareth’s when he could. He thought about reaching out to you, admitting you were right, that he loved you too, but he knew it wouldn’t change a fucking thing. He still couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, not when he didn’t believe he was enough.
You deserved the best, and Eddie was convinced he wasn't that - he was stil a pot dealer, bussing tables to make ends meet and for some free food, just dreaming of a future with his band. How could he be the right person for you when he didn't have much to offer.
Eddie had been so absorbed in the band that he had drifted from the usual social circle. The only time he’d seen Steve and Robin since your departure was after one of his show the last weekend in September. They had approached him, and Eddie, looking weary and regretful, had apologized for not being around much. He wanted desperately to ask about you - God, he did - but he struggled to find the right words.
When Steve and Robin happened to mention they hadn’t heard from you either, Eddie’s heart sank. You were probably avoiding them, likely to keep from running into him. Steve, with a knowing look, asked if the two of you had gotten involved. Eddie gave a brief, vague answer that painted a picture of your arrangement without exposing too much.
“Maybe try reaching out to her though," he suggested.
Robin nodded solemnly. “Of course,” she replied, understanding the complexity of the situation without needing more.
The days blurred into weeks as Eddie threw himself into his band, trying to escape the gnawing emptiness and the haunting memory of you. Each gig was an escape, but it never lasted. The real struggle was coming back to an empty space, a home without the one person who had made everything feel right.
“Back when we were still changin' for the better / Wanting was enough / For me, it was enough"
It was the kind of night that makes you want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over your head, except you weren’t in bed. You were behind the wheel of your car, heading home after leaving the man that you loved.
As the tears flowed freely, your mind drifted to the most serious relationships you’d had; you college boyfriend, your relationship with Matt - both seemed like mere practice compared to what you shared with Eddie. He wasn’t just the best fuck you’d ever had, he was the best person you’d ever known. The thought of never being around him again was agonizing.
Returning to your apartment felt like a warm welcome from an old friend. You had spent nearly all of August entwined in Eddie’s bedsheets, living for the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together. You uncorked a fresh bottle of Riesling, not even bothering with a glass as you tried to drown out the fact that Eddie was never truly yours.
Weeks after leaving Eddie, the silence was deafening. The ache of not hearing from him, of not knowing how he was, ate at you incessantly. You knew that this was your choice, yet you'd expected some sign - any sign - that he was still there, still thinking of you.
You threw yourself into work, hoping that staying busy would numb the pain. But this came at a price - you isolated yourself from your friends, avoided their calls, and shut yourself off from the world that might remind you of Eddie.
When Robin buzzed your intercom one evening, her arrival was a welcome disruption to your self-imposed exile. She stood at your door with pizza and ice cream in hand, a silent understanding in her eyes.
"Hey," she said softly, a warm smile breaking through her concern. "I thought you could use some company."
You invited her in, your heart heavy as you tried to muster a smile. You sat in your living room, as you finally let your emotions spill out.
Between sobs, you managed to ask, "How is he?"
Robin took a deep breath, clearly choosing her words carefully. "He hasn't been around either, but Steve and I saw him last weekend, he's been busy with the band. They're doing really well - they’re working hard to catch the eye of an A&R rep to help develop them. When we told him we hadn’t heard from you, he briefly explained why that might be, and not that I wouldn't have anyway - but he was one that suggested this."
He had thought of you. That was enough to make you break down again. Robin wrapped her arms around you.
“It’s okay," she whispered.
Robin comforted you the rest of the night. Reassuring you that in time it will get better. As Robin was on her way out you told her that while you missed everyone it was just too hard right now, and you needed more time.
She nodded, understanding. "We’ll be here whenever you’re ready."
As she left, you felt hope amidst the sadness. But even with that hope, you found it difficult to move forward. You almost mustered the courage to attend Jonathan and Nancy’s Halloween party, but after getting dressed, you couldn’t bring yourself to go. A week later, you had plans for lunch with Steve and Chrissy but the nausea of confronting your emotions kept you from following through. It was still too soon to be around the people who reminded you of Eddie, so you stayed away, in your cocoon of sorrow, hoping that someday the pain would ease enough to allow you to step back into your life.
“And from the outside / It looks like you're tryin' lives on / I miss the old ways / You didn't have to change/ But I guess I don't have a say / Now that we don't talk"
It was the second week of November, and you’d decided to go out for drinks with some colleagues. You were at a bar you’d never been to before, located on the other side of town - quite far from the usual spots you and your friends frequented. With the slim chance of running into anyone you knew, you let your guard down and enjoyed the evening.
You were so engrossed in your conversation that you almost missed it. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but then you heard it again. Your stomach dropped, and a wave of heat washed over you as you recognized Eddie’s unmistakable voice. Looking around, it was Gareth you spotted first, and as you looked for Eddie, your heart sank. He looked drastically different - his once long hair was now a buzz cut, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, while dressed in a navy striped button-down. His signature leather jacket draped over the back of his chair the only remnant of the man you remembered.
Despite your attempts to refocus on your colleagues, your attention kept drifting back to Eddie and the band. They were celebrating with a round of shots, and you wondered if they were marking a milestone. Since the round of drinks you’d suggested for their first paid gig, you knew they had a tradition of celebrating this way. Your heart sank as you overheard Eddie’s toast: the local station had agreed to start playing their music, and they were promised a small tour around neighboring states in the new year.
Watching the band’s journey over the past three years - early gigs at house shows to paid gigs at dive bars - you knew you had to say something, not just to Eddie but to all of them. You were proud of their progress, and after witnessing their hard work at countless practices this year, it felt right to acknowledge their accomplishments. You couldn't deny that it almost felt kismet, that you were here tonight.
As your coworkers began wrapping up their night, you excused yourself. You made your way over to the band’s table, your heart racing. As you approached their table, Gareth’s eyes lit up as he saw you.
“Well, look who it is!” Gareth exclaimed.
Eddie turned, his smile dropped as he took in your presence.
“Of all the gin joints, you walk into the one I’m in?” you joked, attempting to ease the awkwardness. The band chuckled, and you continued, “I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. I just wanted to come over and say congratulations. I know how hard you’ve all worked."
The band echoed their gratitude before Gareth suggested you join them. A sudden, overwhelming discomfort gripped you. This was a mistake. Every lingering feeling you had for Eddie rushed back, and you struggled to maintain composure. "Oh thank you, but I need to get home," you said, attempting to mask the unease. "But I'm really happy for you all."
As you started to walk away, Eddie rose from his seat. "Baby, wait," he called out.
There it was, the nickname only he called you. The one you'd been desperate to hear.
You stopped, turning slightly to face him as he reached you. "I, um, just wanted to say thanks for that. I really appreciated you coming to the table."
"Of course," you said softly.
His eyes roamed over your figure as he took in the way your dress fit, and a low, almost involuntary groan escaped him. "Wow, that dress, you... you look incredible."
You gave him a thankful nod. It hurt you to hear him say that, knowing you'd bought this dress months ago solely with the intention of him taking it off.
"Me? Look at you. You look so... I don't know. Refined, maybe?"
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or...?"
"Oh, y'know you always look good," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I'd be lying if I said the hair didn't shock me a bit at first," you admitted.
Eddie's eyes softened, and he responded with a chuckle. "It's weird for me, still. I haven't had a buzz cut since middle school. But I just needed... a change."
His words hit you harder than expected, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as shook your head in acknowledgement.
He smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I want you to know I thought about reaching out, but I wasn't sure..." he trailed off.
You nodded again, appreciating the sentiment, a small smile on your lips as you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. "I really should go, but I am truly so proud of you, Eddie," you said, your voice wavering. "Ever since I met you, I've seen how hard you've worked for what you want, and I'm so happy that it's paying off."
The words seemed to break something in him. Instinctively, he reached out, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. "I've missed you," he breathed into your hair.
You hugged him tightly, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I've missed you too," you whispered back, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, and you wished you could stay there forever. But as much as you wanted to linger, you knew you had to go. You slowly pulled away, forcing a smile through the tears. "I'm really glad I got to see you," you said softly.
Eddie looked at you, his gaze lingering as if he were on the verge of saying something more, but he simply nodded. "Me too," he said quietly.
“And I’d give up forever to touch you / ‘cause I know that you feel me somehow / you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be / and I don’t want to go home right now”
The ride home felt like déjà vu. Another teary-eyed drive to your apartment after walking away from the man you loved.
Once you were home, you sank into the couch. Wrapped in a blanket, tears streamed down your face as The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead album played on the record player. For the 17th of November, the weather was a bit of a mess. It honestly felt poetic, the thunderstorm mirroring the emotions you were feeling. Every crack of thunder echoed your sobs.
About an hour into your pity party, you were starting to regain some composure when the buzz of the intercom startled you. You figured it was your neighbor, who often used the wrong buzzer, so you hit the button to let them in. Just as you were about to lay back in your spot on the couch, you heard a knock at your apartment door. Curious and a bit irritated, you peered through the peephole and froze. It was Eddie, drenched from the rain, with tears streaming down his face. Your heart raced as you swung the door open, and he walked in, shutting the door behind him.
"Eddie, what-" Before you could utter another word, he started rambling.
“What are the fucking odds you’d be at that bar tonight?” he began, his voice breaking. “On a night that was supposed to be a highlight in my life, and all I wanted was to share it with you.” His words came out in fractured gasps, his tears mixing with the rain on his face.
“When you said I fought for everything I wanted, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest because... it’s a lie. it's a fucking lie when I let you leave.” His voice cracked, and he struggled to steady himself.
“I should’ve told you this at the bar,” he choked, his tears falling harder now. “It felt like fucking fate that you were there tonight, and I still let you walk away. Again! I'm so sorry for the way things turned out. I should've fought for us. I should've fought for you. I let you go because I couldn’t admit I loved you. Even though you knew - of course fucking you knew - because you see me, all of me. And you’ve loved me through it, even when I didn’t think it was possible.” He buried his face in his hands, wiping his tears and catching his breath.
“I was convinced I wasn’t enough for you,” he continued. “But you wanted me all the same. I’m so sorry that I didn't call you weeks ago. I’m sorry for being so scared that I'm not what you deserve, that I let you walk out of my life because every day without you has been fucking hell.” His breaths came in jagged, broken waves. “I thought I could move on, try to forget it, but the goddamn world would have to stop before I could ever stop feeling this for you... It’s always been you.”
“Eddie,” you breathed.
Eddie stepped forward, his hands cupping your face. “I'm still not sure if I'm the man you deserve, but I'd like to try if you’ll have me.”
You nodded at his words, tears streaming down your face. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss that began tenderly but quickly deepened, fueled by a desperate need to reconnect and erase the distance that had come between you. Your moans mingled as your tongues met, and Eddie's hands tangled in your hair. When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathless, you rested your foreheads together.
“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you whispered.
“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead.
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x reader#eddie x you#Eddie Munson drabble#stranger things#stranger things smut#stranger things drabble#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#stranger things au#Eddie Munson fluff#smut#fluff#FWB X Eddie#Eddie x Baby#eddie munson angst#xo scarlet
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OMGGG!! Imagine platonic yandere batfam and reader on a vacation at the beach on a privat Island. Would you like to do headcanons/or a scenario (you can decide) of it. Hope you have a good day/night!!
Aaaaa anon <333 We had the same idea <3333 Thank you so much!!!
Perhaps a little late for summer, but inspiration only struck me now!!! <33
Also, I wrote this on like 4 energy drinks so forgive any spelling errors
Also it's not edited or anything...
If reception is positive on this one, I might make a part 2 with the other characters, so let me know if you'd be interested in that :)
Platonic Yandere!Batfamily
Summary: The Batfamily takes you to their private island for summer vacation.
It was just you. Just you and the gently lapping of the waves against the shore. Finally, some alone time. You had to make the most of it, since you were convinced that it wouldn’t last long.
It was about 8 o’clock in the morning. Bruce, Damian and Stephanie had left the island for whatever reason. Dick was either at home or at main beach, looking for you. You had come here about half an hour ago, surely they would’ve noticed your absence and the fact that you had left your phone at home. They were going to chip you eventually, you had come to accept that. However, you certainly enjoyed the time you had away from them whenever they couldn’t find you.
Jason was probably inside the villa. He wasn’t particularly fond of the heat outside. Either that or he’d gone swimming to cool off. Cassandra could’ve been looking for you. Maybe she had already found you.
Instinctively, you looked around. No one was in sight. Then again, she probably wouldn’t let herself be seen anyway.
The shore surrounding the island was wider at the main beach. Here, it was only a few feet wide. Behind you laid a sparse palm forest. Cassandra could certainly hide there. Whatever. You wouldn’t find her anyway. Besides, she would have probably come to talk to you. Probably.
Where would Duke and Tim be? At the villa, right? Where else would they be? Hopefully not looking for you.
Now that you had considered it, you were probably being observed by someone. And if you weren’t, then soon, you would be.
Whatever, just take your mind off it. Think of something else, like…the beautiful beach you’re at. Yes, it is much nicer to think about the gentle breeze. How wonderful. Just you, the beach and the ocean.
You hadn’t ever been at a private beach, so this was a unique experience. All of this belonged to you. Well it actually belonged to your new family, but still, it almost belonged to you.
Your soul nearly left your body at the sound of rustling coming from behind you.
“Hi”, Tim waved nervously after you had spotted him sneaking up on you.
You didn’t feel like answering, so you just turned back to the ocean. Wanting to engage with you somehow, Tim sat down on the sand next to you.
“So…what are you doing here?”, he kept looking at you, but you tried very hard to ignore his gaze.
“Just sitting.”
“Well, I can tell that, but why here? Why not on the main beach? Dick and Jason are scrambling to find you there.”
You had thought that was the case.
“I wanted to be alone.”, you emphasized every word.
He chuckles nervously. That was it. He didn’t say anything. That told you everything you needed to know: He was only here to annoy you.
“How did you even find me?”, you turned to him, your voice tinged with frustration.
“Find you? Oh, I wasn’t looking for you, I just wanted to go somewhere alone. You know, somewhere peaceful”, he turned to the ocean, as though in deep thought,”I get it, you know. You also want to be alone sometimes.”
If he “gets it”, then why is he always right behind you?
“I think you and I have a lot more in common than you think”, he said, crossing his arms on his propped up knees and turning to you.
The audacity to say something like that made you shudder.
“I think you’re full of shit”, you wouldn’t let him think that he’s getting closer to you. You could never like someone like him.
He tried to hide his frown, but you saw right through him,”That’s pretty mean, you know. I’m just trying to connect with you.”
He didn’t say it directly, but you knew his words were a warning. Bruce had talked to you about this. You were allowed to have your opinions about them, but being overly rude was a violation of the rules—rules, which he made up. In other words, if Tim thought you were being mean, then you were being mean. Against this, there would be no arguing.
Well, you know what they say: If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.
“Ahem, I’m trying to connect with you…”, Tim persisted. You merely pursed your lips and nodded.
Noticing the awkward silence, he spoke again, ”So, will you go swimming?”
You shook your head.
He nodded, “Yes, it isn’t that hot yet, so there’s no need to cool off, I suppose.”
“Well”, he turned to you with a smile, his determination unwavering, “What would you like for breakfast? Alfred already started preparing something. Let’s head back and let him know what you want before he finishes.” But wouldn’t Alfred already know your preference? Perhaps this was Tim’s idea of “bonding”…
Still, his offer seemed tempting, since you hadn’t eaten yet. However, you weren’t jumping at the idea of going back only to place your order with Alfred and then get dragged off to go swimming by either Jason or Dick. Or worse, Tim.
Only now that you felt the hopelessness more intensely, did you begin to question things. Why did Tim always find you first. And how? They didn’t secretly chip you, did they?
…Did they?
Asking them wouldn’t result in an honest answer, so you didn’t really see a point in it. But how else would you figure it out?
You supposed the best person to ask was Bruce—AKA. Dad. He was likely the only person who would answer truthfully…as long as you behaved properly, that is.
“Is dad home yet?”, you turned to Tim, ignoring his previous rambling.
“Oh uh, I’m not sure. Shall we go check together?”, Tim scrambled to use every opportunity he was given, despite being caught off guard.
Perhaps it won’t get any better than this: Mediocre at best.
“Fine, let’s go.”
From the corner of your eye, after Tim grabbed your hand, you saw his smile widen remarkably.
The walk was long and awkward. Your older brother was desperately trying to talk about something, anything, that would catch your interest. Meanwhile, you were silent for the most part.
You had to admit, the villa was quite nice (if only it came without the addition of desperate, touch starved reprobates). Despite having your own room, you were forced to share a room—and often even a bed—with someone, unless you gained Bruce’s special favour for the day.
Luckily, Damian, the person you had to share the room with last night, had left very early in the morning. You weren’t sure how long ago, though, since the letter he’d written to inform you of his absence was…detailed, to say the least. Surely it would’ve taken him more than an hour to even come up with it, let alone write it. What a waster of paper. He didn’t have to say anything at all…
Entering the cool living room made you relax enough to finally engage with Tim, “Um…are Jay and Dick home, or…?”
In respone, he laughed, “Oh, no. I didn’t tell them that you’re with me. They’re probably still looking for you at the main beach. Dick went on about how we shouldn’t let you go anywhere alone in case you drowned or something like that.”
“Wait, what? But I know how to swim! Please tell Bruce that Dick’s rule is unnecessary…I already have enough restrictions, don’t I?” You panicked.
“Well…” He grinned, “That depends on what you’ll do for me in exchange.”
Even sighing was tiring for you at this point, “Fine, I’ll sleep in your room tonight.”
“Until the end of the week, or no deal.”
Holding back a groan, you responded, “Fine, whatever, just…work your magic, okay?” He nodded eagerly.
“Greeting, Masters. Breakfast is almost prepared”, Alfred appeared from the kitchen.
“Hi. Alfred, did you make-”
“Your favourite? Of course I did”, Alfred interrupted.
“…Right.” You should’ve known, to be fair, “Well, when will it be done?”
“When Master Bruce and Master Damian return”
“What about Steph? Isn’t she returning?” If she didn’t return at all, your life would improve considerably.
“Oh, Steph? She wanted to stay in the city for a bit, probably to buy you gifts or something”, Tim responds in Alfred’s stead.
“Gifts…? You don’t think she’ll, you know, make me play dress-up again, right?”, the thought sent a shiver down your spine. In this heat? There was no way you’d wear layers upon layers of clothes just because she was bored. You immediately left the living room, leaving Tim and Alfred behind.
While waiting for everyone to return to eat breakfast, you went and hid somewhere in the villa to avoid social interractions. And hopefully the heat. It was very hot.
#please forgive spelling errors#i just love school :') you have sooo much free time!! yayyyy (sarcasm)#well thats it for now folks#cya next summer (im kidding...i think)#dc comics#batfam#platonic yandere#x reader#platonic batfam#yandere batfam#tim drake#jason todd#dick grayson#yandere x reader#yandere jason todd#yandere dick grayson#batfamily
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Celebrity Crush Opposite || Slytherin Boys
type :: angst
tw/cw :: body image, insecurities
contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
summary :: you freak out over your celebrity crush only for him to look completely opposite from them. this is a different version of THIS post i made a long time ago, sorry it's so late! - I love this idea so much omggg the angst?? the hurt?? insecurities??? GIVE IT TO MEEEE - 🐍 :: masterlist!
DRACO MALFOY (enemies)
He's always mocked you for stupid reasons, like how you write your "a"s or how you hold your spoon
Once again, he was making his way to your typical spot at lunch to make fun of you
As he scanned your table, searching for something to mock you form, he made contact with a photocard in your hands
"GOD I WANNA GET HIM PREGNANTTTTT!!!" You shouted loudly as you sobbed into your hands
Your friends, oddly enough, nodded along with you and respected your comment
Draco thought it was outlandish but he shrugged it off, his mind was too busy staring into the soulless piece of paper you were holding
One thing about Draco is that he's always been popular with girls in school, even if they thought he was ugly, he knew they would find him cute or at least his asshole personality would let people think they could "fix him"
But for some reason, this simple piece of paper put a knot in his throat as he felt a pang of insecurity strike in him
Surprisingly, he broke his streak of daily mocking as he sat at his table, disappointed and hurt
What hurt even hurt was the fact that you didn't even notice that he didn't mock you today
How could you not tell he's flirting with you!!! (he literally spat in your food one time and call you a fat pig)
As he went to bed that night, he stared at the ceiling, getting flashbacks of the photocard like he was a war veteran
The cute Asian man with dark hair was drastically different from Draco in every way
Race, hair color, eye color, body shape, everything!
He couldn't help but feel insecure in himself, after all you're one of his longest ever crushes
Genuinely thinks of dying his hair black until Lorenzo and Blaise beg him not to
TOM RIDDLE (friends)
You were one of the only people to understand Tom and his weird antics making you two become friends
In return for accepting his weird habits, he was forced to deal with yours whether he likes it or not
He skipped one of his classes in order to stay behind and work with Professor Slughorn on a new potion they were learning
You gave him your notes from class, a very common thing between you two except normally Tom was the one sharing notes
As he looked at your shit handwriting, he started to see a theme in it
All over your notebook were drawings of some random actor?
Tom doesn't know pop culture very well so he asked you who it was in your books
"Who??? WHO??!? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW MICHEAL B. JORDAN???" You said as your jaw hit the floor "HE'S THE FINEST MAN ON EARTH?!?!?!"
"Never heard of him."
"You're gonna hear me scream his name once I get my rose toy"
Tom has never been a big fan of anything popular since he strives to be different from everyone in every possible way
But for some reason, this interest of your in Micheal B. Jordan made him want to research him further
When you left, Tom instantly started to research Micheal B. Jordan until 3 A.M
For some reason, Tom felt upset? (He's jealous but doesn't even know he likes you)
He feels possessive, as if he should steal your notebook and rip out all your drawings of him and burn them
Actually... he might do that,
But, he can't help but compare himself to Micheal
In his head, he thinks it's because you said he the most handsome man ever,
But anyone with common sense could tell it was from him liking you
Tom doesn't change himself after this news though, he's not a pussy and knows he's fine already
But, he does hope that one day you can call him the finest man on Earth
MATTHEO RIDDLE (classmates)
Although he didn't know much about you, he's always wanted to
So when he heard you shout at the top of your lungs when you saw something on your phone, he was quickly interested
He's tried to get close to you multiple times by befriending your friends, going to your usual spots, and more
But for some reason, you two couldn't line up
So he decides to just walk up to you and ask you straight up what you're looking at and spark a converstation
He walks towards you as you spam your fist against the table
You begin to make gorilla sounds and bang your chest, "OO OO AHH AHHH OOOO AHHH!!!!!"
(inspo by my queen brittany broski)
Andddd he begins to take a step away.... He can't just walk back to his desk now since it will be awkward
So he continues to walk past you, slightly scared and weirded out by your behavior
He looks at your phone only to see a random singer with dark skin and locs
Mattheo didn't even need to check himself to know that he had no similarities to the celebretry that you love so much
And instantly, he's bummed to an extreme level
He's so used to being every girls ideal type that he can't stand the thought of the one girl that he ACTUALLY likes have the complete opposite taste of who he is
But that doesn't matter to him too much, since he's fully confident that he can get you to like him with some time
He's the only guy who I think would understand that it's just a celebrity crush and that it's not the end of the world
Because he knows he's hot
THEODORE NOTT (classmates)
Although he's a massive fuck boy, he still gets crushes every now and then, and you were his biggest crush yet
He's tried to flirt with you in the past, but he either stumbled his words or you just didn't understand what he was implying
So when he heard you across the room freaking out over some random actor, he was quick to run over and look
He got up so fast, doing his best to act natural as he pasts by your table
"For my birthday I want him to be oiled up with a bow on top"
Your crude humor was funny to him, he loved that you were unserious
As he passes by, he sees an older man with a fully grown beard and some wrinkles
He wouldn't be surprised if the man had children of his own that could ever be your own age
Although his face doesn't express much emotion, he couldn't hide how his eyes widened at that
He goes to his dorm and researches him to no end, finding out everything possible about the man only to get confused as to why you like him so much
It was a fully grown man with a wife and two kids, what appeal did he have?
Theodore is so lost and confused, he's not sure how to make you like him
He was hoping it would be Harry Styles, Chris Hemsworth, fuck it even Sam Smith - Because at least they were younger and looked attractive
But this was a fully grown man...
Theo feels so sad, thinking that he has no chance with you and sulks for the rest of the day
But his friends comfort him, reassuring him that he still has a chance with you since Theo could grow to be an old man with you
And that statement did make him blush a lil heehee
LORENZO BERKSHIRE (best friends)
Freaking out over hot people was something that he was used to girls in your grade doing
He never understood why people liked those different guys so much, but he didn't care since he basically looked like all of those celebrities in some way
But when he heard you playing the same edit audio over and over again, he needed to know who it was
And as he looked, he saw some random tan buff dude with a mysterious aura to him
You were basically drooling all over your phone
"I wanna stuff my face inbetween his man titties and suckle it like a starving baby"
Lorezno's brain was instantly able to picture that exact sentence, and he didn't like that at all
On instinct he cringes at your statement but laughs it off
As the day ends, he starts to overthink and compare himself to the guy you like so much
He was so much buffer, had a different skin ton, and even had a different hair color
Lorenzo has always been a bit insecure about his body since he was pretty lanky and lean which was the opposite of his friend group of Mattheo and Theo
He looks in the mirror whilst holding up a photo of of the random guy you like so much, picking himself apart
Once he finds out everything he needs to change, he breaks down first. but then gets to work
Pushing himself to fit your perfect type just so he can even have a sliver of a chance of being with you
thank you for reading ! 🐍 :: masterlist!
#harry potter#harry potter x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo x reader
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This is something no one requested, but that I wrote for sheer comfort at a rush of bad memories. Warnings are fairly obvious, but this post will contain implications of abuse, though no graphic/explicit depictions.
The Hobbit Characters Finding Out You Were in an Abusive Relationship
Balin
His gaze drops from yours, but you are not offended by the pensive expression that crosses his face- what you said would take anyone time, let alone someone as thoughtful as Balin. Several heartbeats pass before he speaks. "My heart breaks for you," he begins, "that is a fate no one deserves. I can hardly begin to imagine... But what I do know is you have every right to do things at your own pace. Don't push yourself for me, love." Eyes shining, you nod. "And if I ever raise my voice at you, it'll only be for good reason, say, in a battle or because my old ears don't work so good." Giggling, you accept his proffered hand. "I admit, I can't picture you raising your voice like that at anyone." "It's happened," he jokes back, "those nephews of Thorin's have earned it a few times. But not you. I'm not here to control you, I'm here to love you, and you tell me if I'm making good on that." "It's a deal," you reply, smiling softly as Balin squeezes your hand.
Dwalin
“I know you may not understand or that my fears may seem weak-” “Weak?” Dwalin cuts you off. “Ya know who’s weak? That coward for picking on someone who loved ‘em. You are strong as hell for telling them yer done.” One final question rose to your lips. “So you don’t think differently of me?” At that, the tattooed dwarf shakes his head, placing a hand upon your shoulder and breathing your name softly even in his rough voice. “By my bear, you’re about the sweetest soul I’ve ever met and this only serves to confirm it. I’d have pummeled the sod at first insult.” “I probably should have,” you remarked, arms crossing over your midsection. “Not so fast,” Dwalin’s hand clapped over your chest, taking yours, “that’s what you have me for!” The hearty, devilishly proud laugh he burst into was enough to have you joining the mirth, your head falling gently against his.
Thorin
His eyes darken, jaw setting in a way that sends shivers of intimidation down your spine even in spite of your knowledge that it is not for you. You know it because of the way Thorin pulls you into his arms, because he breaths his condolences into your ear as he does so, warm air ticking the shell of it. "And your fire still burns," he remarks, wonder coloring his voice and shining in his blue eyes. "In a way," you reply, gaze still a bit downcast, "I use it as fuel. Never again will I be somebody's plaything." "Never indeed," Thorin agrees with a small nod, "and you may not need it, but while I remain at your side you have my sword and my word that no harm will come to you so long as I draw breath…”
Oin
His eyes go moist in a moment and he holds up his ear trumpet, clearly hoping beyond hope he heard you wrong. Hands clasping his, you shake your head. “So I’m sorry if I ever seem afraid to-” “You are sorry?” Oin asks incredulously, his tone still managing to be quiet, subdued to the volume you normally know him for. “You don’t have a damn thing to apologize for. That is not your fault in the slightest. Do you have any scars? Any bruises? I’m only asking because I want to take away your pain.” Likely it was in the past, long enough ago for those worries to fade. Scars to score only your heart. “Aye, if I can…I want to heal that, too. Treat you like the jewel you are.”
Gloin
His wide-eyed expression is almost comical despite it all, bringing a hushed, nervous chuckle past your lips. Gloin continues staring at you like you're a new creation for a moment longer, dragging the silence out until you feel you might burst. Finally, he stutters out a reply. "You- you endured all that?" "Yes, though I cannot help wondering if I could have prevented it. You see, I-" "Oh, no," Gloin cuts off your spiral, clutching your gesticulating hands and shaking his head firmly at you, "don't you dare let that coward off one bit. No one asks for anything that bastard did. They always say pressure makes a diamond, but you, my dear, were a gem far before and only shine brighter with each passing moment. Diamonds are gifts of this earth, though, not just some trinket for rich arms. If it was you or all the wealth in the Lonely Mountain, I'd choose you every time. Remember that. Please." "How could I forget words like those?" You grin at him, heart still hammering. "I will do my best to carry them in my heart."
Bifur
Soon as your confession leaves your lips, Bifur backs up from you, dismaying you with his own pain in your eyes. “Scared?” He signs, and your heart breaks anew. Quickly you step forward, bridging the gap again, and reach up to tuck some of his wild hair behind his ear. Shaking your head, you reply, “No, dear Bifur, I am not afraid. If anything, I apologize if I ever seem that way. If my nightmares frighten you and I either hold you closer or push you away. If I startle a little too easily. If I am quick to say no.” He finally tilts his head back up to look you in the eyes, moving it to the side to rest his cheek against your palm. “I, too, have nightmares. Bad things happen when I sleep,” he signs to you, “I get hurt. You get hurt. I need space sometimes, too. I may tell you no, too.” “But when you love someone,” you finish, a tearful smile rising to your face, “You want to see them fulfilled.” At that, the dwarf nods vigorously. “I love you. I never want to scare you. To hurt you.”
Bofur
“A star as bright as you?” Shaking his head, Bofur removes his hat, clutching it in both hands. “Guess that’s beside the point. Someone like that only thinks o’ themselves. But hey, you know that wasn’t your fault, right?” You just nod. “And the fact that you still give your heart to everyone… you’re nothin’ short of amazing.” Tearing up, you burst into a smile, exhaling your relief and falling into Bofur’s open arms. “Was gonna do it anyway,” he mumbles into your neck, “but I want you to know that I’ll treat you like royalty. Much as I can give. I really will.” “I believe you, Bofur, I believe you.”
Bombur
Never have you seen his face fall like you do in that moment. All but instinctually, he opens his arms. “May I?” Nodding, you fall against his chest, the beat of his heart calming your racing thoughts. “I don’t know what to say other than that you don’t deserve that,” Bombur tells you, a hand gently cradling the back of your head, “you deserve the finest man who tosses roses at your feet ‘n’ sings your praises day after day. Someone with half an eye who can see how lovely you are. You deserve all the pretty things in this world.” “And I have that. I have all I could ever want right here,” you reply, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye, “you give me all the love I deserve.”
Dori
"What gives them the right? Nothing. It's not right, any of it! Why is it always the prettiest flowers that get plucked?" Even in his righteous anger, Dori pays you a sweet compliment, a small testament to his value of you. Cupping his cheek, you interrupt his rant, shifting him to meet your eyes and feeling tears prick at you when you see how wet his eyes are. "I don't want you to live with that pain," he adds, voice breaking slightly. Heart dropping, then soaring again at the love in his eyes, you reach up on the other side, and his hand comes up to cover yours. "These roots are strong," you assure him, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his, "with care they grow anew." "I will take care of you," Dori whispers your name, blue eyes fluttering shut, "Always. I swear it."
Nori
“Where is the rat? I’ll kill ‘em, gut ‘em like the pig they are!” Nori’s rage rose an odd flush of endearment through you; murderous as his words may have been, your heart was lightened for his care, the sheer vindication that what you went through was not deserved. But then again, the way that person hurt you was something you would never wish upon any living soul and you knew that. Sheepishly, you shook your head, stepping forward to take one of the dwarf’s wildly gesticulating hands. “The way you love me has avenged enough,” you cut into his harsh words, “no one has fought for me before you, Nori. Thank you.”
Ori
“Somebody really did all that to you?” He doesn’t mean to sound stupid, but the revelation is nothing but dumbfounding. “Yes,” you nod, breath catching in a half-sob, “I didn’t even feel like a person by the end of it.” Your arm is crossed over your chest, but Ori removes it, gently, intently, to hold your hand in his. “You are, though. You’re…you’re more than anything I could have ever imagined. And I like imagining things quite a lot,” he smiles softly, almost sheepishly, “in fact, you know what one of the things I imagine is?” You cringe, see his eyes widen that he accidentally hit a sore spot and feel the way his hand involuntarily tightens. He continues, though. “How I can show all that to you.” Head falling atop his, you succumb to a grin- he is leagues different from that person without even lifting a finger. “You do that just by being you, Ori.”
Fili
You hardly expect his first words to be thanking you, but indeed as both of his hands grip yours, he smiles sadly and does just that. "Thank you for trusting me with that. Fighting the fear. I don't take it lightly. But if you think this does anything but make me love you more," his smile shifts, returns to something more like the amusement you more often saw, "I'm afraid you are solely mistaken. The fact that you trust me, feel safe around me...why, I'll work to keep earning that until the day I die." Grinning, you fall into Fili's arms, feeling utterly secure in the warmth of his embrace. "And that alone means the world," you whisper, "I love you." "And I you. Forever."
Kili
"No," Kili shakes his head, "no, you cannot be serious!" "So you think I lie?" You shoot back, tone sharply defensive in your hurt. Kili's dark eyes widen, glossing over with tears; he shakes his head again, this time slower, but much more vehement, "Not at all. I simply can't believe it. Why anybody would want to hurt someone like you. I admit I can't fathom it." "It's because I didn't matter in that person's mind," you reply, your own eyes tearing and your voice going soft, "I was not a consideration." "Well, let me consider you," Kili replies quickly, straightening and reaching out a hand, "I'll not do anything you want me to do. And if I ever raise my voice at you, feel free to slap me." "Kili," you half-chuckle, half-sob, "how would that make me any better than-" "It was a joke, but see? Now I have you smiling again. That's all I want. For you to be happy. I love you, truly, I do."
Bilbo
“Any chance we would…run into this person?” So casually, almost awkwardly phrased, and yet you deduced exactly what Bilbo meant with his question. “Are you…” Your expression widened back to a tentative smile. “…hoping to have a fight with them?” Plenty of people had been on your side, nearly everyone agreeing that what you endured crossed every line, but hearing it from a partner was an even stronger spike of the vindication you never tired of. Plus Bilbo’s scrappy side was all but the cutest thing in the world. “Well,” the hobbit straightened his coat, “I simply think they need to be put in their place. Why, of all the… how could anyone take a look at someone like you and see anything but the greatest treasure they’ve ever known, it’s insulting, maddening, uncouth beyond all-” He stopped when he heard you giggle, felt your arms snake around him. “Oh Bilbo…my greatest treasure. I’ll always feel safe when you’re here.”
Thranduil
Rarely do you see the woodland king’s eyes harden, go so cold like shards of pale blue eyes, as you do when he hears your admission. “This person saw fit to treat you like property?” Thranduil’s voice is dangerously low, his gaze drifting distantly from yours. “I felt that way, yes,” you quietly agree, nodding. The king’s expression sends a shudder of intimidation down your spine. He must notice, the way he offers you his hand- tentative, eyes softening in question. Telling you wordlessly that acceptance is your choice. A small nod and you take it, his fingers closing over yours as he lifts the back of your hand to his lips. “Never again,” he breaks the silence, voice low but all ice drained from it, “while I wish your time here to never end, our gates are open to you. My halls are as your own. If that…that fiend even thinks to cross the Woodland Realm’s borders? Some gates shall be closed forever.” A part of you wishes to cringe at Thranduil’s harsh words, but as he winds you into his chest you simply feel the heat of tears prick your eyes as you whisper your thanks, an answer coming in the form of the elven king’s lips upon your head.
Bard
He stepped back, eyes widening at your revelation. Every aspect of him softened. “How? How could anybody…” Eyes distant, you shook your head. “At the time, I felt like it was because I wasn’t good enough. Now I see how sick it was. How I was…just an object,” your voice faded into a near-sob, prompting Bard to catch you about the waist, lower you into a chair. He moved to put a hand on either arm of it, thought better of making you feel trapped. Instead he simply let you keep hold of his hand, tilting your chin with the other to meet your eyes. “By every power I hold dear I hope you never feel too afraid to tell me no. To tell me if I’ve hurt you. And by that same light we’ll spend every day filling your heart. Never should you apologize for your scars- those are signs of your strength.”
Beorn
He never does this. You've never known the Skin-Changer to be one for spontaneous affection and yet he's pulling you into his arms the moment you finish, your head falling against his chest or wherever it falls upon his massive height. Several breaths pass like this before either of you speak again. “There is cruelty in this world I will never understand. No excuses exist for it. None. But I will do everything in my power to keep you safe from it.” True to his word, the Skin-Changer is there for you after every nightmare. Never once does he raise his voice or his hand to you. He may not always understand you, but well does he know the feeling of chains, physical or metaphorical, and he would die before casting his own. In moments surpassing his understanding of you, he takes to the woods, offering space over harsh words and freedom of travel over control. True love, after all, always returns.
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#the hobbit#the hobbit x reader#the hobbit imagines#the hobbit headcanons#thorin’s company#thorin’s company x reader#balin#dwalin#thorin#oin#gloin#bifur#bofur#bombur#dori#nori#ori#fili#kili#bilbo#thranduil#bard#beorn#tw abuse
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Guys can I just say thank you so much for 1000 likes on my news post! I gently didn’t think it would blow up this much and so here’s a little gift for you all.
Your boyfriend’s sister.
(I don’t condone cheating at all but idk I just thought abt this. And I took these pics when I played TLOU! )
You were dating Ellie's brother. You never really wanted to, since you never really liked him.In reality, you always loved Ellie; in your heart, you felt that Ellie loved you too.Tonight, your 'boyfriend' invited you over to sleepover. You accepted, only because you knew that Ellie's parents wouldn't allow you to sleep with her brother; and you knew you'd be 'forced' to sleep in Ellie's room.
"So, do you wanna sleep on the floor mattress or my bed…?"Ellie asked, sounding a bit nervous..
“Whatever you're comfortable with” you say shrugging your shoulders. Ellie thought to herself for a moment; contemplating whether or not she should allow you to be in her bed.Eventually she sighed and made up her mind.
"You can share my bed, I don't mind.." She blushes a little.
“Alright” You blush as well. Ellie smiled at you; though her smile faded after she noticed that you were blushing.
"You alright? Your cheeks are all red." She chuckled.
“Oh uh yeah”
"Are you sure?" Ellie said with a slight smirk; she had started to notice how often you blushed around her.
“Yeah...” you’d say, your face getting hotter. She puts her hand next to your head and leans closer to you, her body now hovering over yours; she smirked as she examined your blushing face.
"You know... you look kinda cute when you're flustered~"
“Yeah” you look into her emerald eyes, entranced by them. Ellie smirked at you, her heart beating a bit quicker.
"You're always so red around me…” Ellie mumbled, her hand still gently gripping your chin. "Why is that?"
“I’m not sure… but we both know I don't give a fuck about your brother.” You smirk
"Yeah, I know..."Ellie gently lowered herself so her body was gently resting on top of yours. She had a smug smile on her face; enjoying how she made you squirm.
“Yeah, and we both know your the more attractive sibling...” You smile noticing either blush starting to appear on her face
Ellie chuckled, her hand moving from your chin to the side of your face. "You think l'm more attractive than my brother?" She stuttered, her face only a couple inches away from yours.
“Oh way more. Have you seen him?” You chuckle. Ellie laughed, clearly amused.
“Yeah, I think he's ugly as hell." She moved her head closer to your ear, making sure that your brother couldn't hear her next statement.
"But you're so pretty." Ellie whispered.
“Oh yeah?” You smirk. “How pretty?”
“Words can’t describe it darling…” Ellie moved her head back a bit, so that she was looking into your eyes again.
“If you hadn't been dating my brother, I would've asked you out a long time ago..." She confessed with a smirk, her hand now gently caressing your cheek.
“Well… you should've. I would've said yes” you say.
Ellie chuckled, her smirk widening into a smile. "Oh, you would have?"Ellie moved her body, so that her hips were now pushed up against yours.
"Good to know." She whispered, her hand moving from your cheek down to your waist.
“the only reason I dated him was to get closer to you dummy...” you say, seductively smiling
Ellie's smile widened into a smile as she heard that; her hand grabbed your waist, gently pulling you closer to her so that you were now pressed up against her.
“How sneaky~" She said with a smirk, her fingers gently beginning to caress your body.
“God why don't you kiss me...” You pout.
"Why don't I?" Ellie repeated, pretending to be clueless for a moment. "Maybe it's because my brother is in the other room." she said jokingly, the smirk not leaving her face.
“So?” You smile and laugh.
“If I kiss you now, he'll get pissed." Ellie replied, her hand still gently caressing your body. "Besides... I was having fun just teasing you~"
“Oh god you’re such a sap. Just shut up.” You pull her into a kiss. Ellie's eyes widened from the unexpected kiss; though she quickly settled into it, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you closer to her. She hummed against your lips; enjoying every second of the kiss. You continue kissing, hands on each others faces. Ellie's tongue gently licked your bottom lip, wanting to deepen the kiss. Her body pressed up against yours as she pulled you even closer to her.
“Mmph” You moan against her lips. Ellie's smirk widened against your lips at the sound of your moan. One of her hands slowly started to slide up under your shirt. Her hand gently gliding up your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
“fuck...” you moan softly.Ellie chuckled against your lips again, enjoying the effect she had on you. Her hand continued to slowly wander up your body, eventually reaching the edge of your bra. She pulled away from the kiss just enough to speak in a whisper.
“You sound so pretty when you moan~"
“Shut up” you smirk and drop down, unbuttoning her pants and pulling them down Ellie's eyes widened ever so slightly as she felt your hands unbuttoning her pants.
“Is someone being impatient?" She teased.
“oh I'm sorry do you not want this?” You stop removing her pants.
"No, no, you can continue~" She said, her voice a bit breathless. "I just didn't think you'd be so eager”
“That's what I thought.” You said and continue.
Ellie closed her eyes as she felt your hands continue to unbutton her pants. A small hum leaving her throat.
“You're always so impatient... so needy~" she muttered, her hands still gripping tightly onto your waist.
“God You’re so needy” you pull down her underwear and begin to eat her out.
Ellie's breath hitched as she felt your mouth between her legs. Her back arched slightly as she let out a soft moan.
"M-shit." she muttered, one hand gripping the bed sheets and the other gripping the pillow next to her. Her breathing became quick and shallow; her moans getting louder than the one's before. Her body shuddering every once in a while
“That feel good Els...?” You say and rub her thigh. Ellie tried to speak, but it came out as a jumble of moans and gasps. She tried again, taking a deep shaky breath.
“P-please." she let out, her free hand reaching down to your hair.
“Shhh that’s it…” you keep rubbing her thigh.Ellie's breaths and moans grew louder and louder, her body arching up from the bed. She gripped your hair tighter, desperately trying to pull you even closer to her.
“F-fuck.." she let out, her hips bucking against your mouth, her grip on the pillow and sheets becoming even tighter.
“I-I’m..” she began, her breathing becoming shallower
“I’m close..” she gasped out, her voice strained from holding back. She was unable to get any more words out as her breaths were cut off by her gasps; her body growing tense as she got closer and closer to her climax. Her body shuddering and twitching.
“Please baby… your doing so fucking good” She panted out, her free hand leaving the pillow and going to rest on your shoulder.
“I-I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum…” her breath beginning to hitch. Her cum chills up your mouth and you lick it all up, hungrily like a starved woman.
“Ellie… you taste so good…” You moan. Ellie’s breathing was quick and labored, the hand in your hair loosening its grip.
“You’re too g-good at that..” She chuckled, her face flushed red as she looked down at you.
She pulls you up and kisses you more. She pushes you into the bed. “Now it’s your turn…” she smirks. She pinned you down on the bed, a smirk on her face. Ellie sat on top of your hips, looking down at you with that same smirk. You blush and kiss her deeply. Ellie chuckled against your lips, returning the kiss passionately. Her hands wandered up your body and began to unbutton your pants.
Ellie continued the kiss as she began to pull down your pants, her hands wandering up your legs once they were off.
“No underwear?” She muttered with a smirk, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you.
“What did you expect…?” You say seductivelyEllie chuckled, her smirk widening as she moved back down to your lips.
“Oh, I was hoping for something like this~” she muttered in between kisses, her hand wandering up the inside of your thigh causing you to moan. Ellie chuckled as she heard your moan. She began to kiss down your jaw to your neck, her hand still wandering up and down your thigh.
“You moan so pretty for me, you know that?” Ellie whispered into your ear. Ellie leaned back and grabbed her strap out of her bedside drawer.
“You ready for this?” She said with a smirk. you nod. Ellie chuckled and began to put on the strap-on. “I’m gonna make you feel good, alright?” She said as she got back on top of you.Ellie positioned herself between your legs, looking down at you with a smirk.
"Mmhm" You nod. Ellie leaned down towards your ear, her breath hot against your skin.
“Good.”Ellie then gently started to push into you, her hand resting on your hip as she slowly moved forward. She looked down at you, watching your expression as she continued to push in deeper causing you to moan.
“You okay..?” she asks.
"Yes… I- I've never done this before…" You say. Ellie froze for a moment, slightly surprised by your confession. She looked down at you with a worried expression. “This is your first time?”
"well with another girl…" You chuckle nervously. Ellie’s worry slightly faded as she understood what you meant.
“Oh, okay..” she said with a slight sigh of relief. “Good..” Ellie moved a hand up to your face, gently caressing your cheek. “I’m gonna take it slow, okay?” You nod. Ellie began moving a bit again, being gentle and slow with her movements.
“Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” She whispered, continuing to caress your cheek with her hand. She watched as you breathed deeply, waiting for you to respond. “Baby, talk to me..” Ellie muttered, slowly picking speed.
"This is good Els…" You moan. Ellie’s smile widened as she heard you say that. “Good..” she said with a slight chuckle. “You’re doing so good..” Ellie began to pick up the pace a bit more, her breathing getting a bit harder and faster. Her hand continued to caress your cheek, her other firmly resting on your hip. “You look so pretty like this..” Ellie muttered. Her thrusts becoming harder and quicker.
"Els..." You moan. Ellie’s smile was wide now as she looked down at you. “Yes, baby..?” She asked, slightly out of breath.“You want more?” Ellie smirked and continued to pick up the pace,“
"God you're take me so well..” Ellie says, her hand shifting from your cheek to your hair. She kept eye contact with you, watching as your expression changed. Ellie chuckled as she heard your moans, the hand in your hair gripping a bit tighter. “You sound so pretty..” she said with a smirk. “You like it, huh? yeah you like that? Just like a slut, taking it from me and my brother.” You moan in response
“Yeah?” Ellie said, her smirk growing wider. “You like being my little slut?“ She said, her hips smacking against your ass. Her hand gives your hair a small tug. “Yeah, you do. You like doing whatever I tell you. Don’t you?”
"Y-yes Els-" You moan. Ellie chuckled again, the smirk on her face still growing wider. “Good girl.” She said, tugging on your hair once again. “You’re so good for me, doing everything I say. You like being a good girl for me, don’t you?”
"uh huh"
“I thought so.” Ellie said, her smirk growing into a smile. “You’re so tight for me, baby. Taking me so well.” She began to pick up the pace again, gripping your hair harder as she did causing you to moan.
"Yeah you like that slut? Want me to fuck you even harder?" She starts to hump you with her dick, faster and faster, her breaths becoming more rapid as her pleasure builds. "That's it baby, cum for me."
Ellie looked down at you with a smile. “You still with me, baby?” she muttered, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"mmhm!" you moan.
"God- fuck, who are you such a slut for, hm?” ellie asks, spanking your ass causing you to yelp even louder than you already were
"You!" You moan.
“That’s right baby… you’re my good little slut," she thrusts into you, holding you onto the bed. “Only I get to see you like this..” she muttered, her breathing getting louder and more labored. “Only I get to hear those pretty moans and gasps..”
"Only you can make those moans…" You say back.
"Fucking take it." She thrusts harder, forcing her dick deeper into you. She is stretching you and fucking your brains out.
"Ellie I'm so c-close..." You warn.
"me too baby. gonna take you from my brother. gonna fill you up so good you'll be drunk on this" She began to thrust harder, her breath becoming more staggered. Your orgasm hits you, your eyes rolling back as she fucks you through it. Your juices spilling out and onto her sheets.
"jesus els..." you say as she lays next to you. "you are so much fucking better than your brother."
"this was a great sleepover" she teases, kissing your neck and curling next to you.
Again thank you guys again for the likes! I'm still working on the story. but i will say i really like working on it. Dm me with any requests! Thank you again!!!!
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Nathan's Parked
(All characters are 18+)
Nathan Parker had never quite fit in at Westbrook High. He was the kind of guy who spent his lunch breaks huddled in the back corner of the library, buried in books about superheroes or playing online games. He had thick glasses, messy brown hair that he never quite knew what to do with, and an awkward way of talking that made him stand out in the worst possible way. He didn’t have many friends, and his idea of a "good time" was usually just scrolling through fan fiction on his phone or studying for tests he didn't care much about. Nathan had long accepted that he would always be the geeky loner.
And then there was the secret he kept hidden from everyone: Nathan was gay, and while he didn’t mind the solitude, it would have been nice to share his feelings with someone.
But that was a far-off dream, something he'd shoved into the deepest parts of his heart. Who would want someone like him? Especially at a school where the jocks and cheerleaders ruled the social hierarchy, and someone like him was just… invisible.
One afternoon, after a grueling chemistry class, Nathan found himself wandering the aisles of the local drugstore, searching for something—anything—that might make him feel a little less out of place. He was heading to the deodorant section when something unusual caught his eye.
It was a sleek, black can of deodorant sitting alone on a shelf. Eclipse™ it was called, with the tagline: "Unleash your potential."
Nathan chuckled at the marketing slogan. "Sure, right," he muttered. He had no reason to believe that some fancy deodorant could change his life, but he figured it was worth a try. After all, he was desperate enough to give anything a shot.
As he sprayed the deodorant under his arms, a strange tingling sensation washed over him. Nathan shook his head, laughing at himself. Maybe it was some sort of psychological thing, he thought—his imagination running wild. He glanced at himself in the mirror and froze.
His reflection was… different.
His hair—messy and unkempt just moments ago—was now styled into a perfect wavy middle part, dark brown strands flowing effortlessly in a way that seemed entirely new. His face was sharper, more defined, and somehow more… masculine. His eyes no longer looked tired and worn-out but bright and confident. And his posture—his shoulders were broader, his chest fuller—he stood taller, more at ease.
Nathan blinked. Was this some kind of weird trick of the lighting? He reached up to touch his hair, but his fingers only confirmed what he feared: it wasn’t just his imagination. He was different. His clothes had changed too—gone was his oversized graphic tee and cargo shorts. Now, he wore a tight black compression shirt that showed off a toned chest, a sleek grey hoodie, a pair of jeans that fit him perfectly, and a letterman jacket draped casually over his shoulders. His shoes—new white trainers—looked like something right out of a sports magazine.
"Okay," he whispered to himself, "what the hell is going on?"
A sudden movement caught his eye, and when he turned, he saw a group of cheerleaders walking toward him. A few of them—Liana, Amanda, and Jenna—had been in his chemistry class earlier. But they'd never looked his way before. Now, as they approached, their eyes lit up with recognition. Or maybe it was something else… admiration?
"Hey there, Nathan," Liana said with a playful smile. "Wow, you look… different."
Nathan opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was deeper now, smoother, more self-assured. "Yeah, I guess I’ve… changed a little."
Amanda giggled, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Changed? You look like you’ve had a total makeover or something. I mean, you used to hide behind those glasses and all that—what are you doing now, hitting the gym?"
Nathan tried to think of a reply, but his mind was a little foggy. He didn’t recognize himself anymore, but he couldn’t help but feel good about the attention. He could feel his chest puffing out, his muscles subtly flexing under the tight shirt, as though his body was responding to the change.
"Yeah," he said with a grin that felt more natural than he expected. "I’ve been hitting the gym… working on a few things."
Liana stepped closer, her eyes glinting with interest. "Well, whatever you're doing, it's working. You should come hang out with us at the game this weekend. We’ve got a big pep rally, and it could be fun. You’d fit right in with the team now."
Nathan blinked. Hang out with them? The cheerleaders? He was just a nerdy kid who kept to himself. But the idea of being part of their world—their confident, carefree world—was suddenly too tempting to ignore. He felt a surge of something that felt like excitement. And… pride? A new sense of self-confidence he couldn’t quite explain.
"I’d like that," he said without hesitation, the words coming out effortlessly. "I’ll be there."
The days that followed felt like a whirlwind for Nathan. In a matter of days, he’d gone from being the awkward, socially-inept loner to one of the most talked-about guys at Westbrook High. His new look and newfound swagger made him the center of attention. The cheerleaders treated him like one of their own, and he soon found himself hanging out with them after school, practicing football moves with the jocks, and getting invited to parties where people actually wanted him around.
But the more Nathan embraced his new persona, the more he realized how much he was changing—not just physically, but mentally. He wasn’t the shy, introverted guy anymore. He was Max Hunter, the popular, athletic jock with a cocky attitude to match. His confidence quickly turned to arrogance, and before long, he was acting like the kind of guy he used to despise.
"Yo, check this out," Max said one afternoon, tossing a football up and down in front of his football buddies, Blake and Trevor. "This is how it’s done, alright?" He spun the ball effortlessly in his hands before tossing it across the field, landing it perfectly in Blake’s arms.
Blake threw him a high-five. "Damn, Max, you’ve been killing it lately. You're the new king around here."
Max grinned, his eyes flashing with arrogance. "Damn straight. It’s all about putting in the work and looking good while doing it. Don't know why I wasted all that time reading comics before."
Trevor chuckled, shaking his head. "Man, you’ve changed. But in a good way."
Max gave a half-smirk. "Of course I’ve changed. I’m Max now. I’m not some nerdy little nobody anymore." He ran a hand through his hair, letting the group admire his perfect waves. "And it’s about time the world noticed."
As the week went on, Max’s new life was in full swing. He’d been casually hooking up with pretty much every cheerleader in school. It started with Liana, of course. She was beautiful, confident, and everyone’s idea of the "perfect girl." Max had charmed her with his cocky smile and athletic physique, and within days, they were seeing each other.
But as Max quickly realized, he was no longer someone who got tied down. As soon as Liana wasn’t around, he started flirting with other girls—cheerleaders, mostly—and eventually found himself in a casual, yet thrilling, rotation of hookups. He’d dated and slept with Amanda, Jenna, and even a few girls from rival schools, all while keeping up the pretense of being in a committed relationship with Liana.
The funny thing? They didn’t care. It didn’t matter how many times Max cheated on them—he was Max Hunter, and somehow, that made everything excusable. Each cheerleader, knowing full well about the others, would still smile whenever he showed up to practice, each one thinking she was the one who had his true attention. And Max let them believe it. He was the star of the show, and they were just happy to be along for the ride.
After all, when you looked like he did—when you had the physique, the style, and the swagger—you didn’t need to commit. They all wanted a piece of him, and he was more than happy to oblige.
But as Max looked in the mirror again, something clicked. He wasn’t just Nathan anymore. The person staring back at him—confident, athletic, popular—wasn’t Nathan Parker at all.
He had a new name.
"Max," he whispered, testing the name on his tongue. It felt right. Max Hunter. Strong. Powerful. The kind of guy who everyone knew, and who everyone wanted to know. A jock. The kind of guy who got the girl, the attention, and the respect.
As Max adjusted his letterman jacket and ran his fingers through his perfectly styled hair, he realized something: this wasn’t just a new look. It was a new life.
Maybe, just maybe, this was the person he was always meant to be.
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Baby came home
joost klein x fem!reader
rpf below, pls don’t read if you’re uncomfortable!!!
read part 2 here
summary: reader and joost used to be together but broke up. four years later they meet again, having realized their mistakes.
warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut (blowjob, unprotected p in v), angsty
word count: 6k
a/n: this is kiiiiind of based on the songs ‘baby came home’ and ‘baby came home 2/ valentines’ by the nbhd fyi if u want to listen to them!! also im sorry that im yapping sm in the first paragraphs i promise joost is gonna show up lol🥲. anyways enjoy!!!!!!
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You enter the bathroom, the deafening music from the club reducing to a muffled sound as the door behind you closes. Your hand immediately reaches for the sink and you look up to see your blurry reflection in the mirror. The dark red tint of your lipstick has faded by now and your eyes look tired under the bathroom lighting, lightly smudged with mascara.
You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut in order to get ahold of yourself. The floor underneath you is vibrating with the sound of the loud bass, mirroring the quick rhythm of your heartbeat as you open your eyes again, meeting your distressed gaze in the mirror. You feel lost, unable to recognize yourself under the layers of makeup as tears threaten to spill from your eyes.
Today wasn’t supposed to go like this. You expected it to be another long night of partying with your coworkers, the group of you sat in the fancy vip sofas as always, drinking champagne and gossiping. You never really liked them or their snobbish attitude, the only reason you always agreed to go out with them being your job — a stylist for one of New York’s biggest fashion magazines.
You had always wanted to be involved in fashion so naturally when you got the opportunity to work for such a prestigious magazine two years ago, you accepted every part of the job, the good and the bad. It was sort of an unspoken rule; if you wanted to go higher, you’d have to make compromises — and for you that compromise was to tolerate all the rich elites you worked with, pretend to be one of them.
You thought your plan had been working, especially with how your boss was treating you lately, even promising to give you the promotion you so badly wanted and deserved.
So naturally, when she announced another person as the art director today, you couldn’t help but protest, ask for an explanation from your boss who called you crazy in her usual patronizing tone. With the help of alcohol in your system, the complaints soon turned into a heated argument as you resigned, left the table and ended up… here.
Maybe I should have never left the Netherlands; this is the only thought going through your mind right now as you let out one last shaky breath and your tears gradually come to a stop, leaving a reddish blush on your cheeks as a confirmation that you have been crying. You slightly fix your makeup, clearing the smudged mascara under your eyes before leaving the bathroom.
The music gets progressively louder as you re-enter the large venue filled by people dancing.
You glance at the vip section one last time, easily spotting the people you unfortunately know so well, dressed in expensive designer clothes. They are chatting and laughing as if nothing has happened, the same fake smiles lingering on their faces. You scoff to yourself, all those years of working together and not one of them cares enough to check on you.
You don’t bother to stay any longer and make a turn for the exit door, as the music from the club gradually fades.
The familiar security guard opens the door for you and you smile subtly at him for what you hope will be the last time.
The air is cold and humid against your hot body, causing you to wince as you put on your lightweight jacket that doesn’t do much to warm you up.
You look around you, blinded by the vibrant lights reflecting off the windows of the tall buildings and restaurants. Despite how late it is, the city is still as busy as ever with numerous people walking by, going from club to club and the loud music from cars is booming at every corner.
You decide to rest on a wall a few meters away, seeing as your ride home was one of your coworkers but that scenario doesn’t seem very likely anymore.
You pull out a cigarette from your purse and your trembling fingers rush to light it, desperate to feel the addictive burn in your throat.
For the first time in a long while, you suddenly feel better, relieved as if a heavy weight has been lifted off your shoulders. It almost feels liberating to not work at that place anymore, knowing you don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not, that this may be your chance to escape the toxic environment you’ve been living in and find your old self back.
“Y/n?” A familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you instinctively whip your head to the direction you heard it come from, then pause. In front of you, is standing Joost.
Joost as in your ex boyfriend from the Netherlands.
You met him shortly after having moved to the country because of your dad’s job, both of you being just 17 without the experience of any previous partners and big feelings. It didn’t take long before you got into a relationship, the newfound passion of a first love quickly drawing you closer together and taking over your minds. It was the first time in your life that you had such strong feelings for someone, especially someone you had known for so little at that. You really thought you had found the perfect man, the one you would someday marry and start a life with, no matter the hardships.
But as time passed, the problems soon began to emerge in your relationship. The main issue lied with the fact that you both didn’t exactly know how to convey your feelings and emotions to one another; Joost opted to ignore them and move on, whereas you often came off as controlling and selfish in an attempt to show him just how much you cared.
You loved each other a lot — and you both knew that — but inevitably you broke up with him in the heat of an argument, the biggest one you’d had yet. In the following month, you barely talked and it was then that you made the impulsive decision to move back to New York, finding no reason in staying in Amsterdam anymore. You didn’t tell Joost but he found out eventually, leading to another big argument just one day before your flight and then another month of no contact.
At last, you did talk things through, him calling to apologize and try to make things right again as you cried over the phone because you knew it was too late for either of you to make up for all the problems.
It’s been 4 years since then in which you kept some sort of communication, mostly on your birthdays and on holidays or when he replied to your story sometimes and vice versa.
You stare up at him in shock. “Joost?” You blurt out, blinking repeatedly as if to make sure he is actually here.
He smiles, his dimples bringing back a bundle of memories and you get chills just at that.
“Hey,” He pulls you into a hug which you reluctantly return, careful to not burn him with your cigarette as you linger in his arms a moment longer, taking in the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with what seems to be cigarettes.
“How have you been?” You ask, eyeing him up and down.
He looks slightly different, having grown into his face through the years. His hair is still the same shade of blonde, though grown out as it sticks out under his hat and you notice the small trimmed mustache on his face. He’s just about the same height, maybe slightly taller as he towers over you even with your heels on.
“Good, everything’s good I guess,”
“Yeah? I heard your album did well last year,” Albino; It had popped up on your feed a few times but you hadn’t looked into it too much, in fear of undoing all your efforts to get over Joost.
“Are you stalking me?” His question coaxes a laugh out of you as you roll your eyes at him.
“Get over yourself,” You say playfully, “I saw Tantu post about it on Instagram,”
Joost grins and nods as a response. “How have you been?” He redirects your initial question to you.
You take a moment to respond as you awkwardly look away from him. If you were to be honest with him, you’d say you’re basically all alone, crying and second guessing yourself on the daily — also without a job from now on — but you find that it may be too direct of an answer for the situation.
Instead you say, “Not too bad either,” giving him a weak smile.
“Still in fashion?” He asks, his words unknowingly sting but you try your best to look okay.
“Mhm,” You nod, “I uh- I work for a fashion magazine,” Or maybe worked would be a better word, you think to yourself.
“That’s awesome,”
“I guess so,” You can’t help but let a sigh fall from your lips, hinting at the insincerity of your words. Joost senses it because he furrows his eyebrows at you as if to ask you what’s wrong but you don’t let him.
“Want a cigarette?” You hold out your pack of cigarettes that’s almost empty, in hopes of changing the subject. Joost gets the message and takes a cigarette from the package, deciding not to bother you with any more questions. Besides, it isn’t exactly his business after so many years of barely any contact.
You light the cigarette that hangs from his lips as your eyes meet over the small orange flame and you stay silent, watching as he takes a long drag.
“By the way,” You utter “Why are you in New York?” Maybe it’s a dumb question as obviously a trip would be the reason, but frankly you’re more curious about who he is here with.
Joost goes on to explain, “Me and my friends booked this trip a while ago,” He exhales a thick plume of smoke.
“I don’t see anyone here,” You look around, searching for the familiar faces of his friends.
“They’re sitting at that bar over there,” He nods to the small building that is just a few meters away, the one you have passed by countless times after leaving the club. “I just came out here to make a few calls,” He adds.
“To your girlfriend?” You can’t help but ask him, the drinks you had earlier playing a part in your bluntness. You’re not drunk but definitely intoxicated enough to not feel embarrassed, especially when you see how Joost’s face lights up at your question.
“Nee, I don’t have one,” He gives you a cheeky smile, “Why? Are you curious?”
You shake your head, looking down to the concrete ground, “No, just… asking,” Your voice is weak as you shy away from your words.
“Alright,” You hear him chuckle, it makes you smile too for some reason.
“But I’m sure you have a boyfriend,” He says causing you to look back at him in confusion, “He must be waiting for you inside that club,” He points to the same building you were in just a few minutes ago.
“Where did you get that from?” You laugh in between your words, making it clear you do not in fact have a boyfriend.
“I don’t know,” He shrugs his shoulders, smiling down at you. “You’re pretty, why wouldn’t you have a boyfriend?” You bite the inside of your mouth, fighting back a smile but Joost sees you, secretly enjoying the effect his words still have on you.
“Haven’t found the right one yet,” Both of you know that’s not true. You had found the right one, in fact he’s standing right next to you but you both just had to ruin everything.
Joost knows you don’t mean that, but still, the thought that you have moved on from him stings even though it’s normal all these years later. He has matured, you both have and he often thinks how things would turn out if you got back together again, right now.
His silence doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you put out your cigarette with the sole of your shoe and turn to fully face him.
“Anyways,” You sigh, “I was going to leave soon,”
“Oh,” Joost takes one last puff of smoke before also putting out the cigarette on the ground, then he looks at you again. “Ja, I should probably head back inside too,” He says but none of you make a move that indicates you’re leaving.
You don’t want to say goodbye and possibly never see him again, knowing that once he’s gone you’ll sink back into the misery of your life. He’s currently the only person you feel comfortable talking to and you don’t want to lose that feeling just yet.
You say, “Joost?” Your voice soft and quiet.
“What?” He gives you a sweet smile.
“Do you want to… come to my place?” You’re reluctant in your words, trying not to make them sound suggestive because really, they aren’t.
“Sure,” He smiles, not having to think about it for long which leaves you satisfied. “I’ll just call Appie to let him know,” He adds, pulling out his phone.
You wait for him to end the call as Joost raises his voice ever so slightly, presumably because the music from the bar is too loud for Apson to hear. Your Dutch isn’t the best but you manage to make out most of what Joost is saying, catching your name in between sentences. You hear Apson yell something on the other line which makes Joost giggle and mumble shut up as you give him a weird look.
He hangs up the phone, “Should we go?” He asks, you nod as you walk with him to a taxi down the road and usher him inside.
The ride is quite long, given the inevitable city traffic as you pass by more tall buildings that are sparkling with light. You’re sitting next to Joost in the backseat as your shoulders lightly bump into one another every time the driver makes an abrupt turn. Joost whispers little jokes to you every now and then, making you laugh with his humor that has not changed one bit. It fills your heart with warmth, reminds you of the old times. You keep glancing at him as he looks out the window and the lights illuminate his face beautifully, bringing out the beauty mark under his lips or how blue his eyes really are. He catches you staring a few times, smiling to himself at your poor attempt to hide it and the pattern repeats itself until you reach your apartment complex.
Joost thanks the driver, quickly closing the car door behind him to catch up with you as you’re already at the old-looking entrance door of the building, unlocking it.
“Quick, quick!” You giggle as he jogs to you in his usual silly manner and you let him in.
You take the elevator and on the way up you lightly hold his hand, bringing it closer to see the tattoos on his knuckles.
He chuckles to himself, “You like them?”
“Mhm,” You nod, letting your thumb lightly graze his digits. Your eyes return to his, he’s much closer now and you feel your heart beating faster than ever with the way he looks down at you, a subtle smile on his lips.
Your faces get closer and closer as you let his hand fall from yours, forgetting all about his tattoo, then ding.
The elevator door opens, revealing the narrow dimly lit hallway your apartment is in and just like that, the moment ends as you both step back from each other and out of the elevator.
You hurry to the end of the cold hallway and unlock the door to your place, ushering Joost inside.
The lights reflecting off of the surrounding buildings come through the big windows of your apartment, illuminating the room with a faint brightness. The space is relatively small and simply decorated, the only luxurious thing about it being the view of the city.
“Do you want anything to drink?” You ask, already making your way into the kitchen. “There’s wine and tequila,” you say loudly.
“Tequila,” Joost responds quickly, taking off his puffy jacket and leaving it on the coat rack next to the door.
By the time you’re back to the living room, Joost is sat comfortably on the big couch and you notice he’s turned on the lamp next to him which now casts a warm yellow light in the room.
You hand Joost his shot placing the half empty tequila bottle on the table, then sit down next to him, maybe in closer proximity than truly needed.
“Cheers!” He grins as you both down the shots, the feeling of the hard liquor going down your throat momentarily giving you goosebumps. Joost drinks it like it’s water before slamming the glass on the table, a sight that makes you laugh in surprise as you remember how easily he used to get drunk when you first met him.
“I needed this,” You sigh, your words implying how shitty your night — or life in general — has been.
Joost narrows his eyes at you; he had already sensed that you’re not well from your previous implications but now he has to ask. Even after everything he still worries the same amount, hates seeing you unhappy.
“You okay?” You turn to look at him, smiling at his question. You can’t even remember the last time someone asked you that.
“Yeah,” You nod repeatedly in an attempt to convince Joost, not wanting to ruin his night with your seemingly unimportant problems but he sees right through you, his face making it clear he doesn’t believe you. “Or no,” you laugh to loosen the tension, covering your face with your hand in disappointment.
“What’s wrong?” Joost asks calmly while he caresses the small of your back.
“I don’t know, it’s just…” you mumble, “Sometimes I get the idea that I made the wrong choice returning here,”
You’re looking away from him, not used to oversharing like this. Usually, you would have stopped at the first sentence but the drinks from the club paired with the shot you just had, make it harder for you to shy away from sharing your feelings.
“Like what if I’m not good enough at this? Maybe this life isn’t for me after all,” Your voice becomes strained as you fight back tears, this being the first time you express your fears out loud.
“That’s not true,” Joost raises his voice ever so slightly, “You’re great with fashion, you’ve always been great. You even picked my outfits for me sometimes, remember?” He chuckles at his last words, the shared memory making you both giggle as you finally face him again.
Your eyes linger in his and you get the urge to kiss him, realizing that you may want this night to end differently.
He stands up straight in front of you and says, “Here,” smiling widely as you look up at him confused, “Judge my outfit,”
“Judge your outfit?” You repeat his words to him and laugh. Joost nods as he turns around, letting you see the full outfit and posing in between. You’re clearly amused, letting small chuckles slip from your lips every now and then, watching as Joost shows off his clothes one by one.
Your eyes can’t help but fall to his belt as he plays with it, the metallic letters that read Albino glowing in the darkness of the corner he’s standing at. Your body feels warmer at that as a sinister thought flashes through your mind which you quickly shake off.
“Models aren’t allowed to touch their clothes, you know?” You point out sarcastically, mimicking the tone that your boss usually had when she talked to the models.
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” He says in a half serious tone as you nod.
“So?” He asks, you’re assuming he’s waiting for you to judge his choice of clothing as you sit up straighter on the couch.
“Well…” You take a coy expression, holding back the smile on your lips, “It could use some changes, with my help,”
“You think?” Joost takes a look at his outfit, not directly understanding the true motivation behind your words. “Like what?”
“Come closer and I’ll show you,” Joost pauses for a second, a smirk grows on his lips as he starts to catch on to what exactly it is that you’re suggesting. He takes a few steps forward, so close to you that your face is practically aligned with his belt as you suck in a deep breath. You don’t really know where you’re going with this but the alcohol in your system doesn’t let you think of your choices thoroughly right now, instead you’re overcome with need, the desire to touch Joost in any way possible.
“I’m all ears,” He says, his voice low and raspy.
You bite back a smile, tugging on the soft material of his t-shirt. “This needs to go,” You say, masking your lust with an innocent voice.
“Do you want to style me or undress me?” Joost raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused by your intentions.
“I need a clear canvas to work,” You respond coyly and once again pull on his shirt, coaxing him to take it off.
“Fair enough,” Joost pulls the shirt over his head, revealing the blonde hairs on his happy trail. His pants are hanging low on his stomach, making the waistband of his underwear stick out all the more, the letters supreme on it and you shamelessly take in the image of his bare chest.
Joost soon brings his hand to your chin, lifting your head up so that you can see his face clearly. Your body is practically aching with need by now, imagining how his fingers would feel in other parts of your body.
He silently leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You’re initially taken by surprise as it takes a few seconds for you to part your lips before you finally get to feel him against your tongue. He tastes like cigarettes and liquor but you don’t mind, it only serves as a reminder that this is actually happening.
Joost lowers his body, resting one knee on the couch to balance himself as he pushes you back into the big pillows. His lips wander off to your neck, peppering small kisses on it which later turn into gentle bites that are sure to leave marks on your skin.
“Do you like that?” He asks, noticing the small whimpers that escape your mouth. You hum in agreement, feeling yourself grow more wet under his continuous touch.
“It’s been so long,” He mutters in between more kisses distributed evenly across your neck and jaw. You wonder if he has missed this as much as you have, whether he has also been thinking of you every now and then, searching for you in every girl he has met since you left.
At this point you’re eager, unable to keep your composure any longer. You pull him away slightly, ignoring the confused expression on his face as you quickly shove him back against the couch, switching roles with him.
Your knees fall to the wooden floor, you bring both hands to his knees, looking up at him then towards his belt.
“Your pants are next,” You say, in reference to your previous conversation. Joost chuckles, mumbling some curse under his breath, he’s flustered and it’s because of you. He unbuckles his belt impatiently, shifting slightly to pull his pants down as you do the rest for him, tugging on the rough material of his pants to fully take them off.
His legs are also littered with tattoos, similarly to his arms and your fingers instinctively trail up his thigh until they reach his underwear. You can see the outline of his hardened cock as you gently press your palm on top of it, earning a stifled groan from him.
“These can stay on,” You decide to tease him, Joost laughs at that.
“Fuck off,” He says, earning a smile from you.
Gladly, you think to yourself as your fingers play with the elastic waistband of his boxers.
Your eyes shift to his face briefly, quietly asking for his consent to which he nods at. With a final pull, his cock springs free from his boxers, reminding you of its big size. The tip is leaky with precum as you lick it, making Joost hiss at the sensation.
You take him in your mouth eagerly until the tip reaches the back of your throat, causing you to wince ever so slightly.
“Easy there,” Joost coos, pushing your hair out of the way for you and keeps it in a gentle grip as you skillfully begin to suck his cock. The way your mouth stretches around him coaxes a mixture of groans and curses to fall from his lips, his hold on your hair tightening. He looks down at you, still in your fancy little dress and on your knees for him, the sight turning him on all the more.
The fact that you’ve gotten so good at this makes him think of all the men you’ve probably been with after him and he can’t help but feel a little jealous at that.
“Like that,” His voice is breathy as he mumbles different kinds of praises to you, sending a rush of heat through your core. He starts guiding your head with gentle force, careful not to hurt you, slowly pushing his cock until it nudges the back of your throat . Your face feels hot and despite Joost’s gentleness, there are tears in the corners of your eyes, most definitely smudging your mascara and the dark eyeshadow on your eyelid.
Joost is close but he doesn’t want to come just yet, opting to come inside of you later. He pulls your head back slightly, drawing his cock out of your mouth with one last breathy moan.
You’re breathing heavily as you lock eyes with him, your lips swollen and eyes glossy with tears. He caresses your cheek with his big tattooed fingers, a soft smile lingering on his lips.
“You wanna get undressed too, baby?” He says in a low tone.
“Sure,” You mumble softly, getting up from your knees that are red from how long you’ve been sitting on the floor.
You take off your black boots that end just below your knees, uncovering the rest of your black patterned tights. Your fingers impatiently reach for the zipper to the back, fumbling with it until you finally loosen the silk dress you’re wearing, letting it fall to the floor as you stay in nothing but your black lingerie adorned with tiny bows here and there. Joost’s eyes linger on your body and he swears this is the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, noticing how beautifully your body has grown over the years and how confidently you stand in front him now, more like a woman and less like a girl.
You can sense his infatuation with you with the way he’s looking up at you and it only fuels your ego, a sudden cockiness coming through you.
“Are you just gonna stare?” You taunt him, Joost smiles at that.
“As if you don’t enjoy it,” He says, you assume he’s right.
He reaches his hands out to your hips, pushing you closer in between his legs as you place your arms loosely around his neck. He massages the area of your ass, though the material of your tights is in the way, preventing him from fully feeling your skin against his palms.
“Let’s take these off, shall we?” You smile in agreement and give him a small nod as he begins to lower your tights inch by inch, exposing the soft skin of your legs. Once they’re off, he presses wet open-mouthed kisses on your thighs, making your pussy clench around nothing but solely the idea of his mouth in between your folds, tasting you with his tongue as it swirls around inside of you.
The momentary fantasy draws loud sighs from your lips, correspondingly to the kisses Joost places on your skin. He notices, unable to hide the cocky smile on his lips as he starts moving higher, towards your stomach.
“Your bra,” he mutters, continuing his work on your body, “Take it off,”
You do as he says, trembling fingers rushing to unhook your bra, all the while Joost keeps on kissing your stomach that is rising up and down from your intense breaths. You pull your bra off, tossing it to the floor where the rest of your clothes are as Joost stares at your breasts, your nipples hardened as a result of his previous touch on your skin.
“You’re beautiful,” His small compliment sends a warmth to your face, a sweet smile forming on your lips and you can’t help but caress the sides of his face with your thumb.
You place one knee on the surface of the couch as you come face to face with Joost, giving him better access to the upper half of your body. Now that you’re this close to him, you notice the small stain that your red lipstick left on his lips earlier, letting out a small laugh at that.
He smiles, kissing you deeply on the mouth, jaw, collarbones, then finally your breasts. The tingling of his tongue on your nipples makes you moan quietly as he takes one of your tits in his mouth, sucking on the sensitive skin.
The inside of your thighs is practically burning with anticipation now as more moans fall from your lips. “Joost please,” You breathe out in desperation as he hums against your boobs, “I can’t wait any longer,”
“I get it baby,” Joost withdraws from your chest, places a peck near your lips then nods to his side, “Come on, lie down,”
You lie down on your bare back, resting your head against one of the pillows to get a better view of your body. Joost turns to you, his hands slowly sliding up your stomach as he gazes down at your naked body, the only thing covering it being your panties.
“Alright, you ready?” He asks, his voice soft.
“You make it sound as if I’m being drafted into the military,” You say, causing him to giggle.
“Just asking,” He slightly puts his hands up in the air, “It’s been a while,” He says ever so softly as you both share a smile, silently expressing how much you want this. To anyone else, it would just look like a casual hook up but to you it’s so much more than that, layered with feelings and memories.
“Okay, you have my consent,” You say slowly, your voice close to a whisper. He nods satisfied, planting one last quick kiss on your lips before his fingers find the waistband of your black lace panties. His cock is hard, falling on your inner thigh, an image that only adds to the heat you’re experiencing.
You lift your ass, only a little so that Joost can slip your panties off of your legs, not bothering to tease you much about it. The air of the room feels cold against your wet pussy, causing it to twitch as Joost mumbles some curse in Dutch.
“So wet for me,” He coos as he collects the wetness from your folds with a quick stroke of his tip, making you gasp, your thighs closing at the sudden friction. He props one hand close to your face for balance and lines his cock with your entrance before starting to push into you slowly. The sensation of your walls clenching around him inevitably lets a shared moan fall from your lips as Joost bottoms out, then begins to thrust into you in a controlled manner that makes your head dizzy with pleasure.
“You’re so tight schatje,” The pet name is familiar, yet you still fight back a smile at the sound of it.
You stare up at him in adoration; his bare chest is glistening in sweat, his blonde hair is messy and his lips are slightly parted as soft grunts escape them. He was and is still the most beautiful man to you, despite all the insecurities that linger on his mind.
You notice he’s kind of tired because he’s struggling to stay propped up on his arms above you and you wrap your arms around his back, pulling him down to your chest. His body is heavier against yours but you don’t care, you embrace him while he continues his deep thrusts to your core that gradually become faster.
The way he fucks you is so perfect that it drives you wild. He knows your body so well, knows all the right places to touch as his tip keeps on hitting that one spot inside of you, pushing you closer to your climax.
Joost is close too, burying his head on the crook of your neck as you feel his hot breaths and the vibrations of his groans on your skin.
Your fingers dig into the sticky flesh of his shoulders, your breaths are shallow and you can’t suppress your loud moans given the frantic pace at which Joost is now slamming his shaft into you.
You try to tell him but it seems like the only words you can utter right now are continuous curses in between your uncontrollable whimpers.
“I’m- fuck,” Joost breathes, “I’m coming baby, I promise,”
Before you can respond in any way, you’re driven over the edge. Your vision becomes blurry, the only things you can hear are your embarrassingly loud moans and Joost’s own groans as you come on his cock.
Joost follows shortly after your orgasm, his warm release spilling inside of you while he sloppily fucks every part of you.
“Fuck,” He exhales and collapses on top of you. Your fingers graze his back, trying to soothe the red marks that your fingernails left on him earlier. Joost places his arm around your waist as you both let your deep breaths fill the silence of the room.
You stay like this for a minute or so, then he carefully pulls out of you as you hiss slightly at the feeling.
-
You’re the last one to take a shower and as you come back to your bedroom, you see Joost lying comfortably between the pillows and your stuffed animals, an image you wish you could see everyday. You climb atop the bed, also lying down as you cuddle him without hesitation and he’s quick to wrap an arm around you as well.
“When are you leaving New York?” You ask, hoping for the answer to be never, despite how unrealistic that sounds.
“In two days,” You nod against his chest but really, you want to break out into tears at the simple thought of losing him again and so soon.
You feel him take a deep breath, “Joost?” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Hm?”
“Can we spend the day together, tomorrow?”
He smiles even though you can’t see him, a bittersweet smile at that. He feels the same way as you, dreading the moment he’ll have to leave you, wanting to make up for the lost time. “Of course, liefste. Where do you wanna go?”
“I don’t know,” You mumble, “Oh! Maybe I’ll take you to my favorite restaurant, it’s not too far from here,”
“Okay, that sounds perfect,” His hands caress your hair and he leans down to place a reassuring peck on the top of your head.
You wish this moment would never end. If you could, you’d move with him back to the Netherlands tomorrow and start over, do everything right this time. But for now, all you can do is hold him tighter, make every moment count until he leaves. And then who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be together again.
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thank you for reading !! <3
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