#jacob dreams come to life
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Mike is back at it again Being The Fucking Worst so here's a reminder that any and all interpretations of the BATIM cast, but especially ones that lean more into minority representation, ARE valid and should be loved and appreciated. With BATIM now officially being an all-white, straight, cis cast, there are no rules. Go absolutely wild.
Fuck you Mike.
#batim#bendy and the ink machine#dreams come to life#dctl#jacob i havent seen your official design yet but i sincerely hope they didnt change you too#and you're still canon to me. i'm making sure you get a spot in the Rewrite now just to spite Mike#fuck you mike for like everything#dimond speaks
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more batim book characters! this time some of my favorite side characters, some important ones, and some that literally could not have a smaller role with still being in the book.
the first picture is my personal favorite strange side character from DCTL, the infamous Violinist. i support women's wrongs. the second is the Art Department whom i love <3
the third pic is mostly TLO side characters! Plus Miss Rodriguez from the other two books, and Toby from DCTL. as you can see i am normal about Miss R and Scott
#victors art#dreams come to life#dreams come to life spoilers#the lost ones#bendy and the ink machine#batim dctl#batim tlo#i will....try to tag everyone for organizations sake#the violinist dctl#dave dctl#richie dctl#jacob dctl#scott tlo#mac tlo#molly gray tlo#jack tlo#toby dctl#miss rodriguez batim#not tagging tiol just because it would only be for miss r
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the choice between Edward & Jacob is not a question of which relationship is healthier or which partner is best suitable for Bella. neither is correct. neither is best. neither produces a happy ending for Bella. at the end of the day this is still a vampire novel. any choice Bella could make would yield, at best, a bittersweet happily ever after.
if she chooses Edward, she gets the terrifying Breaking Dawn ending: a girl who rejected her call to grow up has hung her love & her eternity on an emotionally stunted partner who hates himself marginally less than he loves her. she's a teen mom with a kid she never wanted who perpetuates the generational trauma passed down from her parents. by keeping this child, the Cullens have set the stage for an uprising/cold war against the Volturi who are likely to take revenge in order to maintain power. Bella is living in a tenuous "dream come true" wrapped in a nightmare & doesn't realize it.
choosing Jacob is the true coming-of-age ending that rips the stitches out of a wound that never fully healed. even if we ignore the fact that she ends up with a man who sexually assaulted her (we must bear in mind Jacob's character is influenced by smeyer's racism, but it did happen), they can't have a secure romantic relationship. based on the high imprinting rate of the pack, Jacob will likely find his imprint in his lifetime & will lose himself to the imprintee. he will no longer be her Jacob. he will inevitably abandon her (whether he wants to or not), & she must reconcile with the reality that she will always be inadequate to Jacob's imprint. & say he never manages to escape the vampires? he will presumably not age for a long time, meaning the relationship Bella always feared with Edward (her being an old grandmother while he stays forever young) remains a possibility. this is the story of a girl who slaps a Band Aid on an open wound & calls herself healed while flinching every time she sees the shadow of the knife that cut her.
if she chooses neither (team therapy), her healing requires her to lose or be at least partially disconnected from everyone she cares about. Bella must spend the rest of her life shut out from one world while never fully existing in her human world ever again. she must always keep secrets. she can never go back home. even in the unlikely event that she manages to escape the Volturi, the threat of being hunted by vampires will never leave her. in addition, she must face her worst fears (aging, losing Edward) while always keeping in mind the immortal life that could have been hers, if only.
even the "healthiest" option produces scars that will never quite heal.
Twilight is a horror. Twilight is a vampire novel. Twilight is gothic. Twilight is fiction. neither Edward nor Jacob is a "bad" choice because neither will give Bella her happily ever after. the choice between Edward & Jacob is simply a matter of which horror story you prefer to read.
#twilight#twilight renaissance#bella swan#the twilight saga#edward cullen#twilight saga#twilight meta#not to be a downer but the edward/jacob feud is silly#i understand this feud will continue in perpetuity because controversy & drama will always garner attention in online spaces etc#but the idea that either of these men will provide the happy story some people in this fandom want is an illusion#because no matter what happens The Twilight Saga still operates in the context of the vampire/gothic genre which by design can't produce#a 100% happy ending.#'oh but it's a YA romance so-' yeah so the black walls get wallpapered. they're still black underneath & nothing changes that#'this story is a romance' and 'this story is a horror story' are two ideas that can coexist.#i wish we were able to debate the choice between Edward & Jacob while still bearing in mind neither choice is wrong#i think this fandom would be a lot less toxic & mean to each other for no fuckin reason but oh well
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bad idea
short lil summary: harry styles is back from uni and he looks better than you remember. problem is, he's your ex's brother.
warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms 18+ ONLY!
word count: 7k+
a/n: it's almost 4:30 am and i just finished this lol. no need to wait, right? hope you enjoy!
Twelve years. Twelve years you’d been in love with David Styles. Ever since that day in the middle of your sophomore year of high school when he’d shown up as a new student in your Geometry class. Immediately, you’d recognized how cute he was - much cuter than any boys you’d known. And when he’d sat down across from you, and Mrs. Jacobs had asked him a question, to which he’d replied in a British accent, you were a goner.
But your love then had only been the unrequited kind. He was nice enough. He was never mean to you or talked down to you. In fact, you could even say you were friends, albeit the “at-school” kind, not the kind who hung out outside of school.
And you had been fine with that, for the rest of high school. He’d had girlfriends, most of them much prettier than you considered yourself to be. David was outgoing, popular. So you’d just resolved to being happy with whatever it was you were.
That is, until last year when fate took a twist, and you’d somehow become more than friends. You’d run into David at a mutual friend’s party and hit it off. You could say it was as if you’d picked up where you’d left off in high school, but that would be a lie. You hadn’t seen David since graduation, and you’d doubted you had even been on his mind. But he’d been on yours. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him.
The breakup had not been pleasant. That is to say, it hadn’t been mutual. After dating for several months, David decided it was time to see other people. You took that to mean he was already doing so, and was finally ready to let you go. You’d cried for days, unable to sleep or eat. The love of your life had broken your heart and crashed your dreams.
You think it was Marcie, or maybe your friend Deliah who finally got you out of bed and out into the world again. Though you hadn’t dated anyone since David, you had begun to feel much better about yourself, and realized there were other fishes in the sea.
Going to this party at Trevor’s loft hadn’t been your idea. But Marcie was seeing some guy named Ian who happened to know Trevor, and she insisted you come along. While you didn’t really know Trevor well yourself, he had been part of David’s circle of friends in high school. He apparently now owned a loft in the city that housed a bar. After some persistence, you finally agreed to go, hoping to God David wouldn’t show up.
The drinks were flowing, the chatter filling the room as you stood beside Marcie and Ian in a conversation about who knows what. For the last half hour, your eyes had been scouring the loft for your ex. Not because you wanted to see him, but because you didn’t. And if you got so much as a glimpse of him, you had already planned out your exit.
Trevor had greeted you at the door, welcoming most everyone who entered before making the rounds and making sure all hands were holding beverages. Deliah had come as well, with her long-time boyfriend Shane and they were currently at the bar for their second round.
“Ready for another?” Ian asked Marcie, noticing her glass was nearly empty.
“Sure,” she beamed at him.
“What about you, Y/N?”
“Oh, um, no…not just yet,” you replied. “I think I’ll make a stop at the ladies’ and then maybe walk around a bit.”
With a nod, Ian took your empty glass and you made your way to the restroom. Once you’d freshened up, you decided to make the rounds and check out the rest of the loft. You liked the ambiance - the exposed brick with industrial lighting and chrome countertops. Loud rock music permeated through the sound system, thumping through your veins. As you turned left, you noticed another extension with tables along the walls. Several people sat with their drinks in hand, chatting. Your eyes scanned the perimeter, taking in the various framed vintage posters, and you were just about to turn around when a set of male eyes caught your attention. They were staring right at you, a hand grasping a glass of beer. When you gave a gentle smile, he smiled back, full lips curling up to expose a set of dimples.
He was cute. Really cute. But probably too young for you. While his handsome features adorned a bit of facial hair, he still had a baby face. He wore a plaid button-down, and a cap set backwards on his head. He was probably some frat boy, you mused, barely twenty-one.
You saw him bite his lip as his gaze roamed down your body. To escape the feeling it gave you - chills, the good kind, right down to your core - you thought turning around and heading back the way you came would be the best idea. But fate wasn’t having it as you bumped into someone, nearly spilling the drink in his hand.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed over the Bon Jovi song that currently played through the speakers.
“It’s okay,” the guy chuckled. “I was trying to go around you but you turned. No harm done.”
You smiled with a sigh, grateful that he wasn’t an asshole. As you made your way back to the main part of the bar, you considered taking a sneak peek at the frat boy, but decided against it.
“Hey!” Deliah called out to you when you strode up to the bar. Wedging herself between you and another woman, she leaned into your ear. “Did you see him?”
“See who?” your eyes popped. “David’s not here, is he?”
“No. His brother Harry is though.”
Blinking several times, realization came to you. You’d forgotten David even had a brother. Harry had been younger than the two of you, a freshman when you were seniors. By the time you and David had become an item, his little brother had gone back to the UK.
“He just got back from college,” Deliah added. “Or uni as they call it over there.”
“He’s back from England?”
“Yeah. Apparently he’s super smart, got some kind of masters or something. He’s already gotten job offers both here and there.”
“How do you know all this?” you chuckled.
Deliah shrugged with a wink. “I’ve heard things.” Then she leaned forward again. “No, actually I saw him come in, and I thought he looked kind of familiar. I asked Trevor who he was.”
“Oh,” you nodded. Though Deliah had gone to your high school as well, she was two years younger than you, and you hadn’t really known each other then. You’d finally become friends after school. But it made sense why she would have recognized Harry since they were closer in age. You doubted you would recognize him. In fact, you hardly remembered what he’d looked like.
“Anyway, he looks really good now,” Deliah continued, smiling sheepishly, somewhat answering your inward question.
“Really?” you quirked a brow. “Where is he?”
“I saw him go that way, soon after he got here,” your friend gestured to the other area you’d just returned from. “But I haven’t seen him since.”
Just then, Deliah’s boyfriend came up behind her and poked her in her sides, making her squeal.
“Shane, you dork!” she exclaimed, playfully slapping him.
“Hey, I thought you said you wanted to do shots,” Shane smirked.
“Oh, I do! Y/N, go get Marcie and Ian so we can do them together!”
Turning your gaze around the bar area, you didn’t see your friends, so you decided to make your way to the other side. The cute frat boy was still sitting in the same spot, although he seemed to be interested in something on his phone. You found Marcie and Ian in the far corner, and you waved them over.
“We’re about to do shots,” you announced.
“Oh God, I don’t know if I wanna get shitfaced tonight,” argued Marcie.
“I’ll do one,” said Ian.
Marcie rolled her eyes, then grabbed your arm. “Okay, fine, let’s do one as a group. But I can’t promise anything else.”
You smiled at her, looping her arm through hers. Before you turned, you caught the frat boy staring at you again.
“Alright, we’re all here,” you cheered when you met back up with Deliah and Shane who immediately handed you a shot glass filled with golden liquid.
“Ugh, we’re doing Cuervo, seriously?” whined Marcie.
“Would you rather the harder stuff?” you quipped. “I thought you were a lightweight.”
Giving you a face, Marcie accepted her shot glass and on the count of three, you all swallowed your tequila. You were the only one who didn’t grab a lime wedge, however, because just as you lowered your glass, your eyes were glued to the tall man who’d just walked in.
“Motherfucker!”
Deliah glared at you in question as Marcie muttered, “Oh shit!”
“What’s wrong?” asked Ian.
“Her ex.”
You immediately thought the tequila would make its way back up as you sat there squeezing your glass. Marcie was kind enough to take it from your hand before you broke it.
“Did you know?” you swung to face Deliah.
“Me? No! Why would I?”
“Because you said his brother’s here,” you gritted your teeth. “And Trevor obviously knows both of them.”
“I swear, I didn’t,” Deliah shook her head. “I know it sounds stupid, but I didn’t even think to ask.”
You groaned as you watched David stop to chat with people, a blond on his arm. Damn, he still looked good, too.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N!” Deliah cried.
“It’s not your fault,” you sighed. “I just…I gotta get outta here.”
“Do you want us to drive you home?” asked Marcie. She and Ian had been your ride.
“No,” you argued. “You shouldn’t have to leave for me.”
Marcie sat up straight. “You know what I think? I think you should stay, show him his presence doesn’t bother you. You shouldn’t have to leave either just because his ass showed up!”
“Yeah!” Deliah agreed.
Chewing the inside of your cheek, you nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. I do need some air though.”
Rising from your stool, you felt Marcie squeeze your hand before you made your way through the crowd. That one shot was already getting to you, making you light-headed, your temples pounding and your skin hot. Or maybe that had simply been David’s doing.
Slipping past the line at the bathroom, you found the glass doors that led to a deck, pushing them open, the warm air hitting your face as the music was immediately muffled. The area was small, only a couple of tables and outdoor sofas which were occupied, but that was just as well. Running to the railing, you gasped, prepared to hurl the contents of your stomach. Instead, you took several deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves.
Fuck him for coming here! You cursed to yourself. My first night out and he has to show up!
You heard his voice before you saw him. “Hi.”
Turning around, you were met with the cute guy with the backwards snapback. Flustered, you fiddled with the long necklace around your neck. “Oh. Hi.”
For the first time, you noticed he had tattoos peeking from underneath his shirt on his chest, as well as some on his arm where the sleeves were rolled up. He seemed to stare at you again, even longer than he had from his table inside, almost as though he was trying to speak to you telepathically. Finally, he opened his mouth.
“Do I know you? You look really familiar to me.”
“No, I don’t believe so,” you said. “I’m Y/N.”
His lips spread into a charismatic grin, his dimples appearing again. Then he held out his hand. “I’m Harry.”
You felt your stomach plummet to your feet. Of fucking course. Harry Styles. David’s brother. You should have known.
God damn it.
Standing before him now, you could see the resemblance - the sharp jawline, the straight nose, the way his eyebrows perfectly framed his eyes. Only David had blue eyes, and Harry’s appeared to be green. And David didn’t have those dimples, nor any tattoos.
Obviously Harry didn’t know who you were. Deciding not to let your shock or disdain be known, you shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”
“You as well. I um…saw you earlier…inside. You seemed to be…looking for someone.” As Harry said the words, he stepped to your right, leaning his elbow nonchalantly against the railing, his gaze never leaving your face.
“No, I wasn’t,” you conveyed.
“That’s too bad. I was kinda hoping it was me.”
Feeling the color rise to your cheeks, you quickly looked away and chuckled. So he was a flirt. Alright.
“I see,” you smirked. “Sorry to disappoint you, Harry. I was just checking out the rest of the bar.”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “Find anything you like?”
You rolled your eyes at his second attempt at a flirty joke. “Is this your usual method?”
“Method?” He raised a brow.
“For pursuing women. You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
Harry shrugged, “I thought confidence was key.”
Letting out a louder chuckle, you shook your head. “Stop.”
“Only if you let me buy you a drink first,” he grinned.
You stared at him with pursed lips. He was still really cute, you had to admit. And so what if he was your ex’s brother. He had no idea who you were. And you were already enjoying the attention. With a sigh, you licked your lips and shrugged. “I suppose I can allow that.”
You caught the twinkle in Harry’s eyes under the light glow of the outdoor string lights as his dimples deepened in his cheeks.
“Uh, you want it out here, or…”
“No, let’s go back inside,” you suggested.
Harry held the door open for you as you made your way back inside. The chill of the air conditioning brought goosebumps to your skin, but it felt nice, especially on your face which you were certain was still flushed. When you stopped and turned slightly to address Harry, he bumped into you.
“Oop, sorry,” he said in your ear, his hand resting on your hip. You noticed immediately how warm it felt, a spark igniting from within.
“‘S okay,” you smiled. “I was just gonna ask if you’d like to sit at the bar, or did you prefer a table?”
“I have no preference, love,” he replied. “You lead the way.”
After Harry’s hand slid up from your hip to your lower back, you headed for the bar, a bit relieved to find your friends gone. You found a lone empty stool near the corner which Harry insisted you take.
“What’ll you have?” you heard him ask, his breath in your ear.
“Tequila shot,” you answered.
“Really?” Harry raised a brow.
“Yeah, anything wrong with that?”
“No,” he smirked. “Just surprised is all.”
“Hm, well I feel like letting loose. Actually, better make it two.” Flipping your hair off your shoulders, you gazed around the bar. No sign of David yet. You hoped he was nowhere near.
Harry placed the drink order, surprising you this time by ordering two shots for himself as well. As soon as the bartender laid out the row of glasses, the couple who was next to you got up, freeing one of the stools for Harry. Sitting down, he smiled at you, taking one of the shot glasses and raising it. You grabbed one for yourself, not forgetting a lime wedge this time, and mirrored his grin.
“Cheers,” you said as you clinked your glass against his before downing the warm liquid.
Harry did the same, swallowing both shots in record time. Crossing your legs, you swiveled on your stool before licking your lips seductively. With a smirk, Harry eyed you.
“You gonna take that second one, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “Give me a minute. Clearly I don’t move as fast as you.”
“Seems to me you do,” he remarked as he watched you lick the salt off the rim of the glass.
You chuckled at his words. He had you pegged already. You had to admit it was a turn-on. Grabbing a second lime wedge, you took your second tequila shot and sucked on the green fruit, your eyes on Harry’s.
You liked how he watched you. He was more than just a flirt. His eyes told you what he wanted. It had merely been a few minutes and you already knew his intentions. And you were completely okay with it.
“How was it?” he asked, his gaze now on your mouth as you pulled out the lime wedge and licked your lips.
“Delicious,” you replied, dropping the fruit on a napkin. “Good things are worth taking time with.”
“Is that right?” he grinned.
“Mmm,” you nodded.
“You want another?”
“Oh Lord, no. At least not right now. A beer maybe? Whatever it was you were drinking earlier.”
Harry’s smile grew as he nodded. “You got it.”
As he placed another order with the bartender, you took a moment to examine just how attractive he was. While he resembled his brother, he really had his own way about him, a sense of beauty that David had lacked. You couldn’t believe you were even telling yourself that, but you couldn’t deny it. The man was really handsome. You found yourself wanting to reach out and touch the tan skin on his neck and jaw.
“So, Y/N,” he said, his attention turned back to you, “tell me about yourself.”
“Me?” you blinked. “Believe me, there is nothing you wanna know about me.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” he grinned. “Let’s start with why are you here tonight…alone?”
“I’m not alone. I came with some friends.”
“Who are attached,” he added. “I saw them.”
“Oh.” So he had definitely been watching you, checking you out. Noticing you were alone.
“You’re way too gorgeous to be by yourself, Y/N.”
You felt a weakness in your knees even though you weren’t standing. “I could say the same about you,” you muttered, surprising yourself.
Harry’s dimples appeared again as the bartender set down your glasses of beer.
“Saved by the bell,” he commented, grabbing his drink.
You reached for yours as well, but before you could take a sip, your gaze flew up to a couple making their way to the bar. Shit.
“Um, let’s take these to a table,” you hastily said as David and his girlfriend got closer.
“Oh. You sure?”
“Yeah. Bar’s getting crowded, and I’m sure people are waiting to get up here. Plus, we can talk more at a table.”
Harry smiled at you. “Okay.”
Taking his glass, he quickly helped you off your stool and followed you to the other area where you had originally seen him. Sliding into a circular booth, you sighed, happy you had avoided running into your ex.
“This better?” Harry asked when he’d slid in next to you, very closely.
“Mmm, much,” you grinned.
“Not trying to avoid your friends are you?”
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
“I saw one of them walking up to the bar, then stop and turn around.”
“Oh! Really? I didn’t see them.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Harry shrugged. “I’m still interested in hearing more about you.”
“I told you, there’s nothing to tell.”
“Well…no boyfriend obviously,” he said.
“No.”
“What about work or school?”
“I work…” you teased. “A very boring job. And…I finished school long ago.”
“I see,” he smirked, his eyes never leaving your face. “How long ago?”
“Doesn’t matter,” you said, repeating his words.
“No,” he chuckled. “It doesn’t. I just finished though.”
“Oh?” you shifted in your seat, glad he brought it up himself.
“Yeah. Just got back. I was studying in London.”
“Oooh! Is that where you’re from?” you pretended to be intrigued.
“Manchester, actually, or at least originally. My family moved here when I was a kid.”
“I see! That’s interesting!” Even though you technically knew all of this already, it sounded different coming from him. You watched him guzzle a little of his beer before asking the next question of which you were actually interested.
“So what were you studying?”
“Engineering. Got my masters.”
With wide eyes you sat up. “Damn, that’s impressive, Harry!”
“Thanks,” he snorted.
“What do you plan to do with that?”
“Dunno yet. I have a few prospects…both here and in London. I’m just not sure which road is best for me yet.”
“I see,” you nodded. Then with a grin, you playfully slapped his arm. “And here I thought you were just some frat boy.”
Harry chuckled. “Sorry, did I disappoint you?”
“Fuck, no!” you shook your head, sliding closer to him. “Not at all.”
Suddenly thirsty, you drank almost half of your beer in just a few gulps. Feeling Harry’s eyes on you, you looked up at him and licked your lips. He stared at you for a moment, and just before you were about to say something, he lifted his hand to slide a finger down your cheek. Goosebumps erupted on your flesh and you parted your lips to let out a gasp.
“You’re really pretty,” he said. Or at least you think he did. It was hard to tell over the loud music, and his tone was so soft.
“Thanks,” you mouthed.
Sitting up a little, Harry leaned forward and reached for your necklace. “This is pretty too.”
“Oh, thanks,” you half-giggled, looking down at the amulet. “It doesn’t really mean anything, I just like the color of the stone-”
Before you could finish the sentence, Harry lifted your chin, his gaze focused on your mouth. Then leaning even closer, he took a split second to look into your eyes for reassurance before pressing his lips to yours.
So soft. Clouds. Pillowy. Sweet. These were words that invaded your mind, as you could not possibly think of anything else. Nothing else but that kiss. His lips.
You felt his hand on your knee before your brain processed it. His fingers found the hem of your dress, pushing it up slightly just as your tongue felt an electric sensation when it was met with his. Your own hand reached for his chest, somehow of its own accord, for surely you had no control. The warmth it was met with was intense, and the zealous beating of his heart underneath matched your own.
The sudden way he separated the kiss, however, was unexpected.
“Oh!” you gasped, finding his face still inches from yours. Blinking, you tried to read him.
“Sorry,” he said, his mouth quivering into a smile. When his dimples appeared, you relaxed a bit. “Sorry, sweetheart. I think…I’m pretty drunk.”
His chuckle didn’t quite reassure you, nor did the wipe of his hand down his face. Sitting up straight, you pursed your lips and shrugged. “So am I.”
With a gentle grin, Harry said, “I’m not usually one to take advantage of girls when we’re drunk.”
You tilted your head and eyed him before letting out a loud guffaw. “Seriously?”
“What?”
“You don’t have to give me a line, Harry. If you’re not into me, just say so.”
“Fuck, that’s not it at all! I’m so into you!”
“Really.” Your sarcastic tone was apparent as you reached for your glass. Harry stopped you, taking your hand.
“Yeah. I was just worried you would think…”
“That you’re just looking to get laid?”
You weren’t sure what made you do it, perhaps it was the alcohol or your own desire to get fucked, but when you brought his fingers to your mouth and began to suck and nibble on them, Harry’s jaw dropped and he shut his eyes. You watched his throat as he swallowed hard, and when he opened his eyes again, his thumb between your teeth, you could read the passion in his eyes.
“You wanna get outta here?” he asked with a growl.
“Thought you’d never ask,” you grinned. Gulping the rest of your beer, you started to slide out of the booth. “Just let me freshen up in the ladies’ room.”
“Okay. I’m getting an Uber, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Perfect,” you beamed. Then giving him a quick kiss, you headed for the restroom.
You weren’t in the stall ten seconds when you heard your name.
“Y/N, are you in here?”
“Uh, yeah?” you called out.
Heels clicked closer to your stall and stopped. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” asked Marcie.
“Oh hey, I’m getting ready to leave, so I won’t need a ride home, okay?”
“Uh huh. And just who are you leaving with?”
“Okay, it’s a guy,” you said, flushing the toilet.
“Y/N!” Marcie yelled.
Opening the stall door, you were met with her fuming, scowling face.
“What?” you pretended to be oblivious.
“Deliah saw you with Harry Styles. Are you out of your mind? He��s your ex’s brother!”
“So?” you shrugged, walking to the sink
“So? This is a bad idea, Y/N!”
“Why?”
“Because! You’ll regret it!”
“I don’t know,” you argued, reaching for a paper towel. “Maybe, maybe not. All I know is, right now I’m drunk, and he’s so fucking cute, and he’s into me.”
“Does he even know who you are?” Marcie cried.
“No. And he doesn’t need to. Just let me have my fun, alright?” You tossed the paper towel in the garbage and reached your arms out to your friend. “Please.”
“I’m not hugging you, Y/N,” said Marcie. “This is one time I don’t agree with you. You’re only doing this because you saw David here tonight. I already helped you pick up the pieces after he broke your heart. I’m not doing it again.”
With a tight jaw, you headed for the door. “Fine.”
The Uber ride to Harry’s place was quick. He explained he lived in a furnished apartment for now since he’d just returned from the UK, so you were kind of expecting something that looked like a motel, but you were pleasantly surprised when he opened the door to a really nice place.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked when he tossed his keys on the table.
“Maybe just some water,” you replied.
“Of course, love,” he smiled. “Follow me.”
You stood in the doorway of the small kitchen as Harry retrieved bottles of water from the fridge, handing you one. Thanking him, you took it and quenched your thirst. At least the hydrating thirst. A different kind of thirst had started taking over as soon as he’d kissed you at the loft.
Setting your bottle on the counter, you stepped closer to him. He smiled when you ran your hand up his arm. Lifting your chin again with his finger, he gazed down at you with his amazing eyes. Eyes that spoke volumes.
This time as soon as your lips collided, you immediately felt the need to touch him. Pressing your hand against his chest like before, you were happy to feel the rapid speed of his heartbeat. When his tongue met yours, you moaned against his mouth, earning one from him as well. Your other hand joined the other where they hastily unbuttoned his shirt, spreading the fabric open to reveal more ink. You let your fingertips dance down his pecks and abs before reaching the waistband of his jeans. His mouth left yours momentarily as Harry shoved out of his shirt, letting it drop on the floor. His hat fell off in the process, some of his brown curls falling forward and framing his features. Then he cupped your face, his lips open and swollen from the kisses.
“You’re driving me crazy, you sexy thing,” he growled.
“That’s good, because I’ve been going mad for you all night,” you remarked, a little proud of your quick wit.
A smirk threatened to quiver on his lips before they crashed into you again. Moaning against him again, you slipped your hands around his neck, letting his soft curls thread around your fingers. Though you tried not to let it remind you of David - he’d had curly hair too - you allowed yourself to be captivated by all that was Harry.
Harry. Harry. Harry…
As you reveled in the sensation of his soft lips and hungry tongue, your fingers in his hair, you felt his hands leave your face and travel down your shoulders. His kisses on your mouth were soon replaced by kisses on your neck, which you leaned back to give him full access to.
“Mmm, you taste so good,” you heard him mumble against your skin. “Bet you taste good everywhere, hmm?”
“Would you like to find out?” you teased.
“Fuck, yeah baby,” he swallowed, raising his head to look at you. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
He took your hand and guided you through the living room to the back room, a lovely bed in the center. Kicking off his shoes, Harry quickly lifted you onto the bed. As he hovered over you, you took in his beauty, his gorgeous physique and toned arms. The sexiness was enough to make you wet, and you knew as soon as he touched you, you would fucking lose it.
“This little fucking dress,” Harry tutted, shaking his head as he slid a strap down your shoulder. “As soon as I saw you, stood there like a lost little angel in her little black dress…I knew I needed to somehow be the one to take it off.”
“Really?” you chuckled nervously.
“Mmm,” he nodded. “I reckon I was right.”
Sitting back on his knees, Harry slipped his hands up your thighs and underneath your dress. You gasped when his fingers reached the edge of your panties, but he stopped and ran his hands down again to the edge of your dress. Then grabbing the hem, he lifted it up. You raised your hips to assist him, then sat up to pull it over your head.
“Fuck me, look at you,” he groaned, letting your flimsy dress drop from his fingers and onto the floor.
Laying back down, you watched him as he hovered over you again, his eyes taking in every inch of you. You suddenly felt a bit nervous, though you tried your best not to let it show. His head lowered to your chest, as he cupped your breast and gently sucked on your nipple. Your breaths quickened as the heat rose in your core. You could already feel it tightening as he moved to the other breast, his soft, warm tongue tasting your delicate skin. Raking your fingers through his hair, you secretly hoped he would move faster, just to let you feel a quick release. You reached down to grab hold of your necklace when he lifted his head.
“Oh, let’s remove this too, sweetheart,” he suggested. “Don’t want it to get in the way.”
Gently slipping the amulet around your neck, Harry laid your necklace on his nightstand.
“Where shall I taste you next?” he asked with a smirk. He chuckled low at your wide eyes before he slid his hand down to your panties.
“Maybe…here?”
Your chest heaving, you nodded. “Yes.”
“Mmm, I think so too,” Harry agreed. “But first…”
Sitting up again, he grabbed the sides of your black panties and pulled them down. You watched him as he seemed to ponder how or what to do next. Then guiding your legs open a bit more, he swiped his finger up your center. With a gasp and a moan combined, you trembled.
“Hmm, looks like my angel is wet already,” he commented.
“You have no idea,” you cried.
“Oh, and maybe a bit needy.”
You groaned, wanting Harry to get on with it, make a move. Your pussy was throbbing so badly, you thought surely he could tell. When he slid his thumb across your clit this time, you nearly came undone.
“Oh God!”
“Aw, baby. You need to be touched?” Harry cooed.
“So badly, Harry…” you breathed. “Please.”
“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Harry laid down beside you and lifted your thigh to rest against his. Then licking his fingers, he pressed them against your clit, gently moving in a circular motion.
“You like this?” he asked as you began to breathe faster.
“Yes,” you replied as you looked at his face. It had been a while since anyone had touched you like that. It almost felt like high school, like you were doing something naughty with the risk of being caught.
Harry leaned forward and kissed you, his fingers still doing their magic. When he slipped his tongue in between your lips, you began to suck on it, earning a moan from his throat. You weren’t sure if it was his excitement that turned you on more, or the quickening of his fingers, but you suddenly felt yourself reaching the edge, the familiar tightening in your belly. Gasping against his mouth, you had to let go, his fingers continuing in the perfect rhythm as you rode out your climax.
“Wow, sweetheart, that was fast,” said Harry. “Been a long time, yeah?”
You shut your eyes as you blushed. “Maybe.”
“Hmm, then I’m gonna have to do that again. Make it count. Don’t you think?”
“Touch me again?” you asked, opening your eyes.
“No, make you come again. As many times as it takes.”
You stared at him as he slithered his body down the bed and situated himself between your legs.
“I still get a free taste, right?” he wiggled his brows.
You chuckled, throwing your arm over your eyes. “Yes.”
You felt his breath tickle your flesh just before he kissed each inner thigh. When his mouth met your cunt you puffed out a loud breath. His lips surrounded your clit first, then his tongue met the delicate bud, circling the way his fingers had. With a moan, you opened your legs wider, running your hands down your breasts. Harry looked up at you and noticed, ran his hands up your stomach and met your fingers.
You liked that, Harry’s eyes on you as you both circled your hands around your tits and nipples. It felt sexy and intimate. When you began to moan louder, however, Harry released your hands and lifted your hips. One finger danced around your opening first before entering. Grabbing hold of the bedding beneath you, you felt your legs shake. But when he inserted a second finger and his mouth returned to your clit, you thought you might come.
“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you shouted.
“Feel good, baby?”
“Yes! Right there. Oh, God!”
Harry hummed against your cunt as his fingers fucked you, beckoning you inside your walls, touching exactly the right spot, urging you to come all over them.
You weren’t sure you’d ever come so hard in your life. Your fingers dug into his hair. Your legs trembled on either side of his head, your toes curled into the bed as you cried out his name and a few expletives.
When he lifted his head and slid his fingers out, you half expected him to laugh. But instead, he crawled up your body and kissed you with fervor.
“I knew you’d taste good,” he said.
You stared at him, half wondering where the hell he’d come from. Obviously you knew, but figuratively speaking…he must have learned this shit in London because his brother had never made you come like that.
Before you could think anymore about David, Harry asked you a question you hadn’t expected to hear.
“Do you need a minute before we try again?”
“Try again?”
“Yeah,” he grinned his dimpled grin. “I know it’s a bit selfish of me, but I really wanna fuck you.”
You couldn’t help but cackle, which only made him grin wider. “That’s not selfish at all,” you said.
“No? Good.”
Fuck! He was so cute and charming and giving. Maybe you’d had a thing for the wrong brother all along! You played with his hair a bit as he stared at you. Then you shook your head.
“No…to answer your first question. I don’t need a minute.”
With another grin, Harry rose from the bed and unbuttoned his jeans. You watched him peel them off, followed by his underwear, his erection springing free. Then opening a drawer in the nightstand, he retrieved a condom. Crawling back onto the bed, he handed it to you.
“Would you?”
Smiling, you sat up, happy to oblige. Grabbing the condom packet, however, you paused.
“Just a second…”
Situating yourself in front of him, you grabbed hold of his shaft and stuck out your tongue. You heard him hiss when it grazed his cock, your mouth then enveloping it. You let the saliva in your mouth produce enough to lubricate his head, and when you popped off, you used your hand to glide the wetness. Then you did it a second time.
“Fuck, babe,” Harry groaned. “That’s so good, but…you don’t…have to…”
“Mmm, I want to,” you said, sliding your tongue across his shaft. “Just for a minute.”
Hollowing out your mouth, you sucked on him while your right hand moved up and down, and your left reached for his balls.
“Shit, Y/N,” he breathed, grasping your hair. “Honey, please. I want…”
“My pussy?” you looked up at him.
“Yeah.”
Letting go, you adjusted your position as Harry ran his hands down your shoulders. “Is that okay? I don’t-”
“Of course, Harry,” you beamed at him. “I just wanted to taste you too before we got started.”
His smile was incredible as he watched you put the condom on. Then he kissed you passionately before laying you back down on the bed. His eyes on you, licked his fingers and ran them up your pussy.
“Still wet,” he commented with a raised brow.
Then he aimed his cock at your entrance and thrust slowly. You could feel him stretching your walls, a sweet sting as he entered fully. With a low cry, you held onto him.
“Feel okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” you nodded.
“Tell me what you like, baby. I wanna do it all.”
“I’m pretty easy to please,” you replied. “Fuck me how you like.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re so hot,” he chuckled before moving his hips faster.
You clinged to him as he fucked into you, already reaching the spot he’d reached with his fingers. You weren’t sure if you could come again so soon, but it felt incredible. As he moved faster, you heard the squelching sounds of your wet cunt and his balls hitting you. You began to moan, tiny little whimpers at first.
“Yeah…” moaned Harry. “God, I love the sounds you make. So fucking sexy.”
“It feels really good,” you cried.
“Yeah it does. Your pussy’s so warm and wet.”
You continued to whimper as Harry thrust harder, holding down your hands. Your legs wrapped around him as he looked into your eyes. When he began to moan, he slowed a bit, his thrusts sloppy.
“C’mere, baby,” he said, sitting back on his knees. “Ride me.”
Though your legs were weak, you did as he requested, holding onto his shoulders. As you slid down his cock, you could tell you were close.
“Yeah, just like that, angel. Ride my cock.”
You bounced on him a few times before calling out, “Oh, fuck!”
“You gonna come for me again, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you gasped.
“You feel me deep inside?”
“Yes. Oh, God! Oh, it’s so fucking deep!”
“Yeah. Come for me, honey. I want you to come all over my cock.”
You cried out then, doing just as he asked. Every nerve inside your pussy contracted, and you came even harder than before.
“Fuck!” you exclaimed, falling like a rag doll on his chest.
Harry chuckled, lifting you up. “Hang on, angel, we’re not done.”
“I…I can’t, Harry. I can’t come again.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm…we’ll see.”
Laying back down on the bed, Harry still inside you, he began to move again. You whimpered again, not under duress, but simply fatigue. But you wanted Harry to come. For all he’d done for you, he deserved it.
He moved slowly at first, and the longer he continued, the more it started to feel good, until finally you started to moan louder.
“Fuck yeah, baby,” Harry moaned with you. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”
“It’s because you turn me on.”
“Yeah?” he asked as he thrust faster.
“Oh my God yeah, fuck me like that!” you cried.
“Yeah, you gonna come again?”
“Yes, baby!”
“Good girl.”
Harry’s groans were getting louder as you felt your fourth orgasm hit you. You cried out his name as he pounded you hard, calling you good girl. Then his own climax came, his body trembling over you as he moaned deeply in your ear.
“Fuck…” he exhaled with a chuckle. “That was so good. Wow.”
He kissed you hard after you both caught your breath.
“You’re so sexy, Y/N.”
“So are you.” You traced his mouth with your finger before giving him a smile.
“You wanna stay the night? I mean, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
“I am…” you said, considering his offer.
“So…yeah?”
You nodded. Maybe it was a bad idea. But you were so tired, you didn’t think you could even get up.
Harry did help you up, though, so you could clean up in the bathroom. But as soon as you were underneath his covers and he wrapped his arm around you, you were off to dreamland.
The next morning, you woke up while Harry was still sleeping. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, you did your business and returned to a buzzing sound. Realizing it was probably a phone, you found Harry’s in his jeans he’d discarded the night before. Curious, you looked at it and noticed five missed calls. One from his brother, David. And four from someone named Melanie. Plus a text from the same number that simply said, Can we talk?
Fucking great.
Hi, if you enjoyed this, please let me know as I'm considering a part 2 :).
tagging: @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies
ETA: Thank you sooo much for all the love on this! Part 2 is now up, titled break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored. Hope you enjoy! xo
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles x y/n#harry fanfiction#harry fan fiction#harry fan fic#harry fanfic#harry x reader#harry fic#harry smut#harry one shot#harry blurb#harry imagine#harry x yn#fratboy harry#but not really
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higher than heaven | 𝐜𝐬𝐛
୨୧ pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 10.3k ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst, smut ୨୧ tags: guardian angel!soobin, human!reader, mutual pining, sexual tension, dirty talking, nipple play, chest worship, fingering, unprotected sex ୨୧ synopsis: Soobin, your devoted guardian angel, has one singular purpose in his ethereal existence: to bring your heart's deepest desires to life. Unbeknownst to him, his mere presence fulfills that desire. Yet, the lingering question remains— how can he effectively transform your most intimate dreams into reality? ♬ playlist: iris | nightly, dizzy | yueku, unbreakable | jamie scott, monsters | joan, feel every bit | the ivy, infinitely falling | fly by midnight, kiss my scars | august royals, next to me | peter fenn, hideaway | jacob collier, salvation | gabrielle aplin, magic island | tomorrow x together ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: First fic of 2025! I’d like to thank @lovetaroandtaemin, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, @ylangelegy, @gyubakeries, and @xomakara for beta-reading this fic for me, I know it was a quick journey and I appreciate every one of you who followed the story from the beginning to the end 🤍.
The time fills as plastic shot glasses and empty solo cups discarded into trash bags. Some stragglers of the party lay on the couch or floor, but you pass by them with ease. You sigh before Beomgyu stops you with a sharp tug. "Dude, you don't have to help me. You're supposed to be one of my guests!"
"I'm just avoiding the inevitable tomorrow. And if you come into the shelter late because you procrastinated cleaning your own apartment, I may just kill you."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, boss.” He rolls his eyes and unfurls the empty bag you had between your hands moments before. You giggle in earnest.
“If I get a single text, Gyu–”
“Why don’t you enjoy the early morning hours of New Year's and get out of here?" He shoves you towards the door of his apartment with an "I love you” to follow you out, determined to do what you swear he won't without your help.
Beomgyu may be your childhood friend, but habits hold on tight with him. It’s clear from the three years he’s worked at your animal shelter. Your parents always said he has good intentions, although he’s brash in decision-making. "The kid just asks for forgiveness more than permission most of the time," your dad would joke, and Beomgyu wouldn’t disagree.
Your parents’ words replay in your head on the walk home. You hear every piece of parental advice with each step on the cobblestones, the clack or your heels accompanying every word. It's customary on New Years to feel the ache of their absence so strongly. Your thoughts of them are as vivid as the pain of their loss. It seems to haunt you more with every year that passes.
One day, you had been tagging new intakes and cleaning food bowls like normal. The next you were receiving the call that your parents had been in a fatal car accident. Every space they inhabited, including the shelter, felt colder, quieter, a little less like home. Even your own house twenty minutes from your job barely felt like your own.
Five years of grief made the pain manageable, but on nights like tonight, it doesn’t feel like you’ve made much progress..
The cold of January accompanies the repetitive emotional and mental cycle you're on. The weather bites with a hard set of teeth, almost more brutal than the traces of sadness you feel in your heart.
You don’t realize amid the somber trek home how close the surrounding shadows are, one of a stranger within an arm’s distance.
Your animals greet you at your door with perky barks and whooshing tails. Mina and Minho, your two tabby cats, seem to be delighted that you’re back, but save the ecstatic greetings for their canine siblings. Key, your senior chihuahua, does what he can energy-wise compared to Bori, your labrador mix.
“Bobo, please,” you beg as she jumps up on you when you kneel at her eye-level. It’s all a mess of slobbering tongue and eager pants with her. Once she’s done, you rub Key between the ears to give him some affection.
Even your hedgehog, Rio, taps against the glass of his enclosure to say hello to you. It’s almost like every pair of animal eyes asks you how the party went and why you left them alone for so long.
You can’t supply them with an answer, because you notice the person-shaped figure at your kitchen counter, silent and clouded in darkness. The sight makes you release a decibel-breaking scream.
You grab an umbrella from the iron wrack near your door and charge to the kitchen, expecting Key and Bori to follow you and bark aggressively at the intruder. They don’t, but they do pad behind you in curiosity at your strange actions.
They barely react at all when you turn on the light in the small kitchen. The new illumination reveals the black-haired stranger dressed in white. He says nothing, but holds a smile of mirth on his face at your line of defense. He's neither scrawny nor muscular, but towers over you to a surreal degree.
You think you can take him if you have the element of surprise, but with the alcohol still buzzing through your veins, you may lack complete hand-eye coordination. It’s anyone’s guess.
“What do you want? If you’re looking for money, you got the wrong house, buddy.” You say with a steady voice, aiming the sharpest point of the umbrella in his direction.
He smiles wide, pearly teeth and a set of dimples almost blinding you. “I’m Soobin.”
His lack of an answer and warm smile throw you off. It’s definitely not the reaction anyone expects from a burglar. Maybe the guy's intoxication is even greater than yours, enabling him to enter someone's home without permission. No matter the reasons, you don’t release your hold on the umbrella. You stare him down hard despite your shaking hands.
“Well…Soobin…I don’t know what you want, but you’re not gonna find it here.”
“I’m in the exact place I need to be.” He says your name with the same level of warmth that remains in his smile, but your blood runs cold at the fact he is aware of who you are. Was he stalking you? Had he stopped by the animal shelter while you were too busy to make a mental note of him? “Put down the umbrella and we–”
“Get the fuck out of my house, you creep!” You raise the umbrella as high as you can before it falls on his head, shoulders, or any location on his body that will stun him. He knows it’s coming, though.
Soobin somehow materializes right in front of you before you can step forward, taking your wrists gently in one hand to stop you. “There’s no need for that. I’m not here to harm you.”
You struggle in his hold, trying your hardest to release yourself from his grip with all of your might. Then, you freeze, unsure of how both his speed and his lack of alarm to your furry animals makes any logical sense.
Soobin senses your lack of effort to go through with your attack and lets go of you, taking a small breath of air. “Will you drop the umbrella?”
“Once you tell me what you are,” you whisper. “My dogs would have ripped off your ankles by now, but they didn’t. Why?”
Soobin chuckles, but you feel anything but humorous. “The why to that question is a bit hard to explain. But I can tell you why I’m here.” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly bashful. “Let’s just say I have a mission to complete.”
Soobin sits at one end of the couch, hands in his lap, while you sit on the other. Your dogs lay at the edge of the couch, snoring peacefully now that the chaos is over. Your knees sit tight against your chest, still guarding yourself from him or any potential advances he may make.
You may not think he wants to kill or rob you anymore, but that doesn’t mean you’re immediately trusting of the stranger. One that is no doubt breathtaking, but still hiding his intentions.
You size him up, still unsure how or why the guy is familiar with you when you’ve never seen him before. He can barely provide you with an adequate answer for the questions that pop into your head.
Where are you from? How do you know me? Have we ever met before?
He chuckles at each one, continuing on with the same reflexive response. “Proprietary information.”
You roll your eyes. “Every time you say that, you sound like some kind of spy.” You move closer to his spot on the couch, looking at him with more intensity than before.
The analysis makes him laugh even more, his cheeks turning pink. “I’m not an alien, if that was your second guess.”
“That’s not what I was thinking!”
He quirks an eyebrow at you. “You look like you’re about to cut me open with a scalpel.”
Your lips transform into a firm line. “Should I want to, Soobin? Maybe you’re saying you’re not an alien to throw me off.”
“Trust me, I am not an extraterrestrial. Not cool enough.”
You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous situation you find yourself in, matching the smile on Soobin’s face with your own. An hour ago, you were about to kill him in self-defense for what you assumed was a classic break-in scenario. Now, you’re laughing with your would-be victim. This has to be the most peculiar first day of the year you’ve ever had.
He claps his hands softly on his white denim jeans. “We should call it a night. You’re probably tired. I can explain more tomorrow, if you’d like.”
You look around your house, unsure where Soobin is planning to stay for the next few hours. The one-bed-and-bath cottage is anything but roomy, most of your space taken up by work supplies or your animals’ stuff.
He senses your trepidation and grins. “Don’t worry, I can come back in the morning.”
You suck in a breath. Most of you feels relief, but there’s a small inkling of sadness that pervades your emotions. You barely know Soobin, but his presence provides a warmth that your home has been missing.
It has to be the last traces of alcohol and the simmering grief still in your system.
“Okay. I have work in the morning, but–”
“I’ll be here before you have to leave,” Soobin cuts you off. He holds his hand out in a goodbye, and you take it. His soft palm meets yours and heats your skin, and you have to cut the parting short to not feel any more flustered.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, love.” He leaves you with one more grin before he exits, confusing you further.
The touch of his fingertips on you follows you into sleep, his skin the last coherent sensation you have before it all goes black.
There is a murky quality to the dream you find yourself in. You’re surrounded by grey, the color’s opacity fading only partly as the details become clearer.
The room around you looks more like a cavern than a traditional room. It’s made of stone, cavelike and primitive. The entrance to the area is too vast for a normal door. It’s almost as if you could step out and fall into nothing but clouds. The world outside is a mixture of inky blacks and dark blues, signifying nighttime outside the four rocky walls.
You look back to the inside of the space. It holds a desk covered with paperwork and photographs. You’re alone, standing in the center of it all, but too far away from the papers on the table to see any information.
Before you can step closer, Soobin enters with a blonde man hot on his heels. They both walk right through you, seemingly not noticing your presence at all as they continue their discussion.
They emit their own light somehow, the room nowhere near as dark as when you were alone inside of it.
“If you fail at this, Yeonjun will demote you and have no qualms about doing it.” The blonde man ruffles his hair in frustration, and inches closer to Soobin. They clearly have a close relationship, from the concern on the stranger’s face to the hand that he rests on Soobin's shoulder. “You’ve worked too hard to lose everything, Soobin.”
“I know, Hyuka,” Soobin says in a somber tone, sorting through the papers on his desk. “But she needs me now more than ever. And I know I can help. And if I succeed, I can actually—“
“I get it. We’re just not supposed to get involved unless we’re certain about it. You know this.”
Soobin sighs. “You didn’t see her, Kai. I have to.”
The man named Kai exhales a deep breath and walks away, his pleas seeming to hit a brick wall. The last thing he says, “I hope you know what you’re risking,” barely makes it to your ears. All you notice before Kai’s departure is the unfurling of wings from his back, the white and gray feathers spouting from the tendons just below his shoulders.
You scream when he drops from the entrance, his wings carrying him away. You don’t care if the sound alerts either of the two men, not after witnessing such an unrealistic moment.
You scream again when you hear the unfurling of Soobin’s wings, the sound almost whipping you onto your back from the gust his wings emit. They’re dark grey, larger than Kai’s are. They create such long-casting shadows that you have no question now what Soobin is or where he comes from.
The word replays in your mind as the surrounding scene dematerializes and you wake up with a rapid heartbeat: an angel.
Soobin waits at your door in the same white button-up and jeans he had on the night prior. You welcome him inside, and he looks more ethereal somehow in daylight.
The dream hits you again with its full force, the image of his grey wings flashing across your memory.
“So, you’re an angel,” You say, filling the space between you both with a new tension. The anxiety only permeates from you; Soobin exudes an air of calm instead, despite your accusation.
He almost ticks his head down in a nod as he responds with the words, “Proprietary information.”
You nod your head and gulp hard. Somehow, the aura around you and the subtext in his expression tells you what you know to be true.
He showed you all you needed to know last night through your dreams, a miraculous loophole to the restrictions placed upon him.
When you’re finally ready to go to work, the morning chores around the house finished before Soobin even made it to your doorstep, you look over at the man in front of you again with trepidation. The white attire may lead to a multitude of questions that you and Soobin cannot answer.
“What? Is there something on my face?” Soobin asks, confused.
You laugh and shake your head, any residual tension from your realization broken. “You look a bit too…uniform for the shelter.”
“Oh! Well…” He blushes, unsure how to respond.
An idea pops into your head when his words come up short. “I may have some old stuff that’ll fit you.”
“Why is the rando wearing your dad’s windbreaker?” Beomgyu asks while cleaning Jin, the newest adoptee at the shelter. His eyes peer over at Soobin filling some food bowls with kibble. Soobin’s presence fills the space the same way it did in your house.
He wears your dad’s long-sleeve shirt, windbreaker, and khaki pants well. Despite his freakishly tall height, the clothes don’t look small on him, and you’re relieved he’s able to fit in like any normal guy with the change in wardrobe.
You scoff, continuing to fill out the documents for Jin’s tag and vaccinations without looking up at your friend. “Soobin’s new in town and lost everything on the plane ride here. He just needed to borrow some stuff until his luggage gets delivered.”
Beomgyu nods, still concerned. He goes back to scrubbing Jin’s coat with the anti-tick shampoo, and you leave his spot at the cleaning station to stand beside Soobin.
“You do this every day? These bags are heavy, even for me.” Soobin grunts and clips the bag closed.
“I usually make Gyu or another volunteer do it. But you saved me the trouble of asking.” You smirk and take two of the bowls in your hands. “Want to help me feed the dogs?”
Soobin’s eyes light up, and he nods. You wonder as you walk to the cages if he’s ever interacted with animals before he left his home in the skies.
Since you were a kid, the shelter has always been a part of your daily regimen. Once college was out of the way, you had a stable job waiting for you to practice your veterinary degree on. While some could only handle so many cat scratches, dog poops, and absurd origin stories, it made every day worth it in your eyes. And the fact that you had a history with tending to furry friends with your parents only made it more worthwhile to continue doing.
The second you open the cages to let the dogs eat, you recognize how natural Soobin is at the job. He talks to them in a childlike voice and rubs their bellies as they munch on kibble and necessary medicines you give in between feeding. Even the dogs with the rougher backgrounds take to Soobin like a bee to honey, the warmth he naturally exudes relaxing them.
He truly is an angel, you realize, and not just in the literal sense.
You lock up the shelter for the day with a lot less weight on your shoulders thanks to Soobin. “I might as well give you the keys to this place. It suits you well,” you joke.
Soobin tucks his hands into his windbreaker, smiling hard. “It just came easy, I guess. Animals aren’t like people. They don’t have to hide behind words. It’s all about energy.”
You look at him as you walk away from the building together, your face softened from his words. “My mom always used to say stuff like that. To her, animals were the bestest friends you could ever ask for. She’d say it’s like they see into your soul.”
Soobin grins. “She seems lovely.”
You swallow hard, balling your hands into fists inside your jacket. It’s not anger that permeates your body now, not the way it used to. All that exists is the reality that their words are simply memories. “She was. My dad too. That place was their second home.” You wave your arm in the direction of the shelter. The building diminishes from view as you round the corner to head home. “And mine, too.”
“Did you envision this being your life?” Soobin asks, the question taking you by surprise. “I don’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s okay!” You laugh. “I mean—I love working with the animals every day, and I have great friends. It just can be very routine sometimes, like there’s this gap that I can’t fill.” You hold back the more intimate details of your desires to Soobin, still guarded and uncertain of being so vulnerable so soon.
He steps closer, the walk becoming more intimate with his shoulder almost brushing yours. “You’ve been alone for quite a while. It’s understandable to want to share your life with someone.”
You blush hard, a mixture of the January cold and his correct assumptions building a steady heat on your cheeks. “That’s what most people want, I guess.”
Eyes widening, you realize now why Soobin may be discussing these things with you. Could his super secret mission, which he discussed the night you met, relate to right now?
“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself, stopping on the stone street. Soobin only gets a few paces farther than you before he stops.
“Is there something wrong?” He asks, his eyebrows drawn up and his mouth in a small O that you would normally giggle at.
Now, you have no time for humor.
“Did you come here because of the stupid wish I made on New Year’s Eve?”
“Taehyun, if you give me another shot, I will throw up!” You exclaim in a fit of giggles, three drinks already in your system over the last hour and a half. His girlfriend, Kazuha, stands by your side as she downs the shot in her hand, her mouth puckering as she swallows it down. “Zu, I thought you were the DD tonight!”
“Fuck it, I’ll call an Uber.” She winks and chases the shot with a sip of beer. Beomgyu wades through the throng of people in his living room to join all of you in the kitchen.
“Taking shots without me? That’s a party foul.”
“Whatever, man. It’s not like we can’t make more.” Taehyun passes him one filled with tequila to catch up, and Beomgyu downs it in the next second. By the time the buzz of the drinks hits your head, Jungwon barrels into the kitchen with his own girlfriend Yeri to tell you all that the ball is dropping.
Everyone crowds around the television to watch the remaining minute of the year play out. The strangers around you scream out the last seconds, others speak in a drunken lilt.
You turn to your friends, somehow the only person without someone attached to their hip. Beomgyu is holding a random girl's shoulder, while your other friends stand closely together in their respective couples, watching the countdown..
“Four, three, two, one! Happy New Year!” Beomgyu says the words into his date’s neck before kissing her roughly on the lips. Your other friends have their own celebratory make-out sessions. You feel like an intruder as they all enjoy the moment in their respective couples.
You’ve never been a grouch about your single status, not once. But it felt like a part of you was missing out with little of a choice in the matter. Whether by the confines of chance or love simply not being meant for you for the past twenty-seven years, you can only be comfortable for so long before the pain of solitude drains you dry.
Was it so awful to want to find someone to share funny videos with? To talk to about days at the shelter when a cute animal comes in and needs a loving home? When days are heavy on your heart and you need the one you love the most to lift you up and make it all evaporate with a simple “I love you”? To make every struggle and hardship, no matter how big or small, worth it?
And so, with only a drunken mind and heart to listen to your deepest whims, you wish for what seems the most out of reach as your eyes line with tears: a soulmate to bridge the gap between your loneliness and true fulfillment.
When the reality of why Soobin’s here hits you, you can’t help but release one of the loudest laughs you’ve ever emitted before.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” you say with exasperated breaths, all the air in your lungs saved mostly for your laughter. “You came all the way from up there to play matchmaker?”
Soobin chuckles to himself, the sounds that leave his lips a lot quieter than yours. “You make it sound so childish.”
“Can you blame me?” You ask. “I don’t need help in that department!”
Soobin gives you a knowing look, hitting you somewhere deep in the chest. “Then I wouldn’t be here, would I?”
“Okay, don’t speak in riddles to me!”
“I’m just stating facts, love.”
You roll your eyes, and Soobin laughs again. “So you’re magically going to find me the perfect partner after only knowing me for 48 hours?”
“I’ve known you for much longer than that.” He steps even closer to you, your fingers brushing his as he stands a few inches from you. “But again, it’s—“
“Proprietary information, I get it,” you whisper. You cough into your fist and glide past him, the moment broken. “Either way, I am just fine with or without a boyfriend, Soobin.”
He follows behind without a word, but you sense his smile without looking at him. Jerk.
Soobin has helped many people in his immortal life. It’s an existence he couldn’t fill in just one book. He’d have to go back centuries to the very moment he started his work as a guardian. His life began long before that, but his true merits came when he started helping those who needed supernatural guidance.
He’s seen from his eagle’s eye view many heartbreaks, losses, successes, and love stories, but nothing as encapsulating as the story of your life.
You were a vision to see the first time you held an animal in your hands, hands tepid but heart full from the creature giving all of its affection to you for you to reciprocate wholeheartedly. He was in awe of you when you stepped across the stage with your degree, eager to put all the knowledge you gained about medicine to a good use. And his ever-still heart ached with yours the second you got that phone call in November five years ago, wanting nothing more than to catch you before your knees hit the tile below.
You’re the one assignment he’s kept too close an eye on, the others in his caseload not holding his focus so strongly. He succumbed to forbidden desires, wishes he knew were unattainable.
But the second he felt your heart break on the one night he knew he could seize the chance to step over the border between Heaven and Earth, he chose the only option that felt right: he had to leave home and heal what needed to be mended inside of you a long time ago.
He watches you help the teenage girl adopting her first pet with immense adoration.
You check off the supplies needed for Jin and all the vaccines the dog will need moving forward with clinical focus. It’s admirable how dedicated you are to your work, not caring if it went beyond the bounds of a traditional work-life balance.
And when you wave the teenager and her parents out the door and turn to him with a signature eye-roll, he can’t stop the way his skin heats. Your gaze in his direction screams: How long are you going to keep pestering me?
Forever, he says to himself with a hell of a lot of hope.
When you’re both alone in the shelter, one hour after you’re closed for the day, you sweep the floors in a huff. “I am telling you I do not need you to play matchmaker for me.”
“You keep saying that and yet I’m still here, love,” Soobin tuts, flipping through the magazine on top of your desk. He sits at the chair opposite from the receptionist counter so casually, feet crossed and casual despite his heart yearning to explain everything to you.
I’m here because I can’t take any more of your pain. Because someone deserves to know how special you are. Because I—
“I can find a date without your help. Beomgyu already took up that role a long time ago. He’s been pestering me about going out with his friend Heeseung for months. So there.” You stick your tongue out at him and continue sweeping.
Soobin chuckles to himself and flips to another page of the magazine, but he can’t deny how his focus remains on you, the center of his attention, for longer than he expected.
“Lee Heeseung, twenty-two. Works at the ramen shop downtown. Entirely incompatible with you. Just for your information.”
You stop sweeping and aim an accusatory eye at him. “And that’s not proprietary information how?”
“I’m not looking out for him. And that only took a couple of Google searches to figure out, love.”
By the time you lock up the store, Soobin is in the habit of checking the door behind you to make sure you didn’t miss the back door or forget to close the play-gate on the way out. Two weeks of observing your routine up close has given him incredible intel, and not just into your schedule.
“Let’s walk past downtown,” Soobin suggests, taking your hand and walking through a new pattern of alleyways and cobblestone paths.
You’re unsure why this route that adds another ten minutes to your walk is worth the trouble, but you take his advice, anyway. He’s your angel for a reason, after all.
“Soobin, unless you suddenly got a hankering for human food, we really should—“
You knock into someone’s shoulders hard; the impact sends you to the gravel. Soobin vanishes from view, his name on your tongue the second you recognize that you’re on the ground.
A pair of hands that aren’t Soobin’s, more calloused and robust, lift you up off the ground.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been standing so close to the alleyway.”
A beautiful pair of brown eyes gaze at yours, and it stops you dead in your tracks. The stranger’s brown hair falls over his face in a mess of free curls, some of them tinged with sweat. He wears a baking apron around his waist; flour and, you presume, icing cover his shirt.
You look at the building next to you, the pastel pink sign reading “Gyu’s Baked Goods” beaming over your head. And you turn back to the man in question, the baker himself as his hands keep you sturdy on your scraped feet.
“It’s totally fine. I’m the one who should be sorry. I mean, I wasn’t looking anyway and I—“
“No, you don’t have to apologize. This is what I get for taking a smoke break when I have cupcakes to make, right?” The baker chuckles and releases you. Your heart thumps at a rapid tempo when he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Mingyu. Sorry I’m built like a mountain.”
You chuckle and take his hand, the handshake gentle for the size of his palm. It reminds you of a sturdy fireplace, strong but tender. “Pleased to meet you. Apologies for having the build of a leaf.”
Soobin looks on with a knot in his stomach from an opposite alleyway. The process has begun, and he cannot halt its progress. No matter if he wants to be the one in the human male’s place.
Soobin watches on as Mingyu stands with you by the kennels, acid simmering on his tongue from watching the two of you in such a chummy position.
He clutches the novel in his hands with intense pressure, on the edge of ripping pages between his fingers. For the past week and a half, you and Mingyu have spent time together as new acquaintances, giving Sobbing time to read mortal literature.
He should be happy for you; his initial plan to find someone who fits your life and wishes so well is going perfectly. Yet why does he wish he could rewind time and take it back?
To your pleasure and Soobin’s secret dismay, Mingyu’s surprise gift of homemade mini animal treats made the day an amazing experience for all three of you.
You pay no mind to Soobin’s sudden and off-putting sulking as you show Mingyu around the animal shelter, your new friend interested in your job as much as you’re intrigued by him.
Beomgyu saunters up to Soobin with a bag of kibble in his hands, clicking his tongue. “It’s tough, isn’t it, man?”
Soobin huffs and looks at the younger man, the aura around your friend similar to his back home. If only Kai could see him now, grumbling and pouting like a kicked puppy.
“What is?”
“Seeing the girl you like with someone else. I mean, she’s pretty great so I get it.”
Soobin rolls his eyes and goes back to the novel in his hands to distract himself. His jaw ticks when he hears your laughter. The sound creates such a beautiful symphony to his ears, but it’s not reserved for him at the moment, and it makes his stomach turn. “You’re wrong.”
“Okay, dude. I get it. None of my business.” Beomgyu lifts the bag over his shoulder and starts walking, but looks back at Soobin with a smirk. “But maybe it might be mutual if you gave it a shot.”
Soobin scoffs at the kid, and then at himself for the split second he entertains the idiot’s idea. Soobin can pine all he wants, but he knows the boundaries. A multitude of reasons prevent this line from ever being crossed.
He may have incredibly powerful feelings for you, but they’re hidden away and unable to reach the light of day. Not just because he has a strategy for you and Mingyu, but he is not an acceptable suitor because he doesn’t belong here, simply put. Earth is only a temporary stay on his list. And when he goes back and reports to Yeonjun of his success, who knows what will happen?
All he knows is that your paths will cross only once in his and your lifetime, and never again.
Soobin almost remains stuck in his misery until you walk up to him with an orange icing-colored dog bone treat in your hands. You hold it out to him with a shy smile. “For you.”
He smirks, taking the snack from you and rotating it between his fingers. “Isn’t this for the dogs, love?”
And the signature eye roll comes, your bottom lip between your teeth as you do it. “They’re organic. Anyone can eat them.” You look back at him directly, suddenly concerned. “You can eat, right?”
He chuckles. Nodding his head, he looks back at the snack. “Just not sure if I’ll like it.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “Just try it, please?”
Reluctantly, he bites down. Sweet potatoes and carrots, harmoniously blended, flood his mouth. The icing and pinch of cinnamon provides the perfect level of sweetness to round it all out, and Soobin groans. Even the dog treats the guy makes are perfect.
“Okay, it’s pretty great,” Soobin admits, taking another bite. “Even if they’re meant for dogs.”
You laugh and take a tiny corner for yourself. “At least you can say you’ve eaten a dog bone.”
Soobin’s tender smile makes you blush, and it stirs up all the feelings you’ve suppressed when you’re not in his presence. Mingyu’s a welcome distraction from it all. His looks and personality are undeniably attractive, but you always circle back to the angel in your midst.
Who can blame you? He’s ethereal, his magnetism undeniable. But that warmth he’s had from the first day you met is why you can only stay away for so long. He’s a part of your world now, and you can’t imagine that changing in the foreseeable future.
He’s made his place on Earth with you, and you dread the day he has to go back to where he belongs.
The end of January brings the last time for branches to stay vacant of leaves. You notice the small sprouts of leaves amidst the brown limbs as you and Soobin walk back to your house. You bite back a smile, and Soobin comments on it.
It’s like he clenches your heart between his fingers as he says it. “You always hide your excitement like nobody should be watching. Like it’s wrong to be happy about the little things.”
You blush while strolling beside him. “It’s not that I’m hiding it. Maybe I just don’t think anyone will get why I’m happy about certain things.”
Soobin bumps you with his shoulder, a close-mouthed smile on his lips. “Try me.”
You exhale a breath to get your bearings. “Okay, so everyone is always excited about the start of the new year. But then it’s like the excitement dies down and we just go on our merry way until the next holiday comes up. It’s not in the days for me. It’s the environment that always makes me feel the shift, you know?
“Like with animals, almost. The energy is unique, and I feel it when I see the colors and feel the temperature fluctuate.” You shake your head and tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “That may sound stupid, but—“
Soobin stops you on the open sidewalk, taking your hand in his. He looks into your eyes earnestly, wanting you to take his words to heart before he says them. “Nothing you’ve ever said to me is stupid, love. Every thought you have is beautiful because it’s yours.”
Like the town greenery, something shifts inside of you then. Even on the rest of the walk home and the talk over dinner about the day at the shelter, you sense an unfamiliar emotion swirling in the air between you and Soobin. You can’t name it, but it reminds you of the first blooms of spring, brimming with promise.
The first week of February comes in a tidal wave. Many people flood the animal shelter looking for the perfect furry friend to complete their family on the cusp of Valentine’s Day.
All you can hope for is that a majority of them, or at least fifty percent, don’t come back to the shelter after the holiday is over to return the animals looking for forever homes.
That was the one thing that bugged you the most about this job: biting your tongue at the obvious lack of responsibility people put into owning pets.
It holds more weight than anyone knows, bringing another being in your home to tend to like a child. The only difference is that many of them have histories that deserve more care than normal, and some don’t want to put in the right amount of effort.
You sit on these thoughts as Soobin holds the newest cat to the shelter in his hands. “Have you thought of a name for Mr. Cat yet?” Soobin inspects the spot near the cat’s tail. “Or Missus?”
You giggle and grab the clipboard with the cat’s information on it. “He’s a he, Soob. You can come up with a name.”
He ponders the choices, before his smile grows and he presses his nose to the cat’s. “How about Hyuka?” He rubs the back of the cat’s ears tenderly.
You grin at Soobin and brush your fingers over Hyuka’s fur. “I think it’s a perfect fit.”
Soobin looks over at you with bright eyes, his expression transforming into one that feels like the one you held that day so long ago when he called your thoughts beautiful. A question forms on his tongue, but it flits away the second Mingyu walks through the double doors of the animal shelter with a bouquet of daisies.
At least the jerk knows your favorite flowers, Soobin thinks to himself as he walks with Hyuka back to his block in the back room.
You smile at Mingyu and thank him for the flowers, immediately pressing your nose to them to inhale their smell. “They’re amazing, thank you.”
“My buddy Wonwoo is a florist, so don’t thank me too much. I got a discount even though I should’ve paid full price.”
“Can’t beat a couple bucks off.” You set the bundle down on your desk and cross your arms over the countertop. “I take it you’re not just here to deliver flowers?”
Mingyu chuckles and presses a hand to his neck, his toned biceps stretching out his shirt. “Actually, I was going to ask if you had any plans for Valentine’s.”
You stumble on your explanation, discussing the closure of the shelter for the holiday. “Well,” Mingyu starts, “I was thinking you could come by for dinner. And I promise it won’t just be me making you taste test cupcakes again.”
You laugh, but the sound falls flat. You had always been the one pining, yearning for the boy you liked to like you back. Being on the other side of the coin was not exactly ideal. “Mingyu, you know I appreciate you and I am flattered, but…”
Soobin.
You’re unsure how to continue, but Mingyu holds a hand up in understanding. “I get it. How about I make you a meal, anyway? Consider it a friend treating a friend for all of her hard work.”
You blush and nod. “I’d like that very much.”
You’re washing dried-up wet food from the cat bowls when Soobin walks up to you, his face red. By the time Mingyu left, you expected Soobin to come back to your side so you could wash the dishes together. You did it yourself, seeing as he took forever to come back. Soobin asks with a tone of authority, “What the hell are you thinking?”
You poke your cheek with your tongue, contemplating. “I’m thinking Hyuka’s chances of getting adopted before Valentine’s is about—“
“You know that wasn’t what I meant, love.” He says the pet name with annoyance as he drops one bowl into the sink next to you. His tone catches you off guard, not expecting to see Soobin angry for the first time like this.
“You asked me what I was thinking, and I’m telling you.”
“Why did you say no to the date?” Soobin asks, his eyes blazing with fury. Something without a name sits below though, you can tell.
“I, technically, didn’t say no. It’s just more friendly than romantic.”
“Do you expect me to find you another soulmate like this?” Soobin drops another dirty plate in the sink for you to clean up. You don’t know if the question is exactly for you or for himself.
The tension sits thickly in the air, the running tap the only sound for a good minute or two. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you respond, hoping to ease the awkwardness.
Your cheekiness makes Soobin chuckle deeply. You missed his laugh, you realize, not hearing the sound in a while. Not since before Mingyu came around. “What am I gonna do with you, love?”
You shrug and go back to washing the bowls, hiding your smile behind soap suds and dishwater.
Soobin’s leg shakes as he sits on your couch, watching the clock on the spot above your door. 10:49 PM. He’s been waiting for hours to welcome you home from your “friendly” date with Mingyu. Admittedly, he’s been waiting since the second you left, the night of Valentine’s Day on the forefront of his brain since he heard the meathead ask you to have dinner.
Minho and Key keep him company, the older animals in your horde understanding and patient while Soobin mopes around. The angel feels as impatient as Bori can be when she has to wait for dinner.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Soobin says to Key, the chihuahua’s overbite hanging almost like a taunt. “I’m not stewing.”
He’s definitely stewing. The animals must be saying to each other, conspiring about what will occur when their mother finally gets home.
And on the cusp of eleven, you walk into the house and unbuckle your heels. You watch Soobin on the couch, his hands fidgeting on his lap. “Have you been sitting there for three hours?” You ask in a cute tone that drives Soobin nuts.
“No, I made the animals dinner.” You set your bag on the iron wrack where your coats lie, and throw your shoes in some corner of the living room before Soobin continues with, “So, how was the date?”
You stride to the mirror, beginning to unclasp the flashy studs in your ears. “It was fine. Nothing special. Just two friends having dinner.”
“That’s all it was? No candles at the table, no romantic music, nothing?”
“Why are you so concerned, Soobin? I went out, I had fun, now I’m home.” Soobin’s not prepared to hear your voice so clipped and direct. Your frustration is usually a mask of humor or concern. Not genuine anger, like right now. You don’t look at him directly, continuing to remove your jewelry as your ire grows.
You try to de-escalate the argument by retreating to the kitchen, but he only follows you there. And moving back into the living doesn’t help either. “Stop following me, Soobin!”
“Stop running away,” he barks back.
“I will when you stop making a big deal out of this.”
“It is a big deal,” he says with a scoff. “And am I not allowed to worry about you and who you’re with?” He asks with a bite that matches your irritation.
“Why are you so concerned if Mingyu’s the person you wanted to set me up with in the first place?”
“Don’t ask me that question,” he whispers. His jaw tightens and his hands clam up, but you don’t give in. If he wants to finish the discussion, then you’ll continue to press him for an answer.
“Why? What kind of ‘proprietary information’ relates to how you feel about this? What does me going out with Mingyu and you being a complete ass about it have anything to do with top-secret intel?”
“I love you, alright?!” He yells, standing stock still as his veins pulse in his head and neck. His hands go to the messy strands of his hair, almost like he feels himself going crazy at his own confession. “I did not mean to, and it’s awful. I can’t give you the life you deserve. Someone like Mingyu or any other human man would be lucky to have you, yet I can barely stomach the thought of someone else getting to touch you in all the ways I wish I could. And it’s driving me insane.”
The confession knocks something loose inside of you, remaining inhibitions be damned if it means now that the feelings Soobin harbors mirror your own without a doubt.
You step closer to him, the tension almost too much to bear any longer. You press your hands to his neck, and bring him closer until your lips are a mere inch apart. “Nothing and nobody’s stopping you, Soobin.”
He takes a deep breath to hold himself back, grounding himself so he doesn’t do something that will upend both of your worlds. “You don’t know that, love.”
You chuckle softly. “Maybe not, but I do know that I love you too.”
When you brush his mouth with your own, every being in the universe, heavenly or not, ceases to exist in your mind. It’s only you and Soobin in your own world. You want to kick yourself for taking so long to seize this moment, this kiss, with him. For all of the reasons Soobin supplies as to why it’s wrong for the two of you to be together, this could not feel more right.
Soobin only gives himself a second of separation from you to catch his breath before he dives back in for one, two, three more kisses. He moans eagerly into your mouth. He tugs on the fabric of your dress to occupy his hands, his body hungry for any contact he can get.
Heavens do be damned, if it means he can keep you between his arms and against his lips.
Your back hits the bed as Soobin attaches his lips to your neck. The dogs scratch at the locked door of your bedroom, but you know they’ll give up after another minute of waiting for a result that will never come. You have other priorities to tend to.
Soobin’s lips and teeth mark you up as he travels along your skin with his mouth. He removes your dress and his shirt so your skin is in closer contact, the feeling of his every present warmth lighting you from the inside out. Your undergarments are still in the way, but you know they’ll be discarded soon.
“You do not know how many days I wished for this,” he mumbles into the spot between your breasts, his kisses setting you on fire to the point you can barely tell where he’s going next. He unclasps the clips holding your bra together, your top half now bare for his eyes to witness.
He marvels at the fullness of your chest before he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He licks at the skin as he suckles. The action pulls a moan from your lips, your body thrusting up at nothing but open air.
“You can touch me in other ways, Soobin,” you gasp, taking his hand in yours and intertwining your fingers.
He blushes a deep crimson, releasing your nipple from his lips. “I don’t know how,” he admits.
You take his hand to guide lower to the top of your underwear, urging him to slip his hand inside. He does so, immediately finding the wetness of your folds against his fingertips. “You can move them around—just like that.”
He takes your advice and expertly finds your clit to take between his thumb and index finger. Your hips buck up into his touch, and he smirks against your lips. He asks, “Is this what you like?”
“Yes, please.” He takes your underwear off to freely glide his fingers in and out of you, three of the digits simultaneously filling you but leaving you aching for more. “Please, Soobin, please,” you beg.
“What do you want, my love? Don’t hold back.”
“I want you inside of me,” you confess. He listens to your request without question. Unbuckling his pants, his cock springs free to make your eyes linger to the bottom half of his body. You don’t guess for long what it feels like, as he immediately sinks into you to make your eyelids flutter.
“Holy shit,” you exclaim, pressing your hands to his lower back, pushing him in deeper until he’s filling you to the hilt.
“You feel amazing.” Soobin says the words against your lips as he thrusts for the first time. He pulls completely before slipping back in, groaning the entire way.
While you appreciate the slow movement of his body against yours, not too eager to rush the experience, you cling to him with eager fingers, hoping the message will come across. “Soobin, go faster.”
You’ve only ever been with two other men in your life, two lackluster experiences in college you wished to forget. All the time between now was just a waiting game, you only willing to go the distance when you felt it was with the right person. And it seems like all the failures in your history have led you to this perfect blip in time.
Like Soobin can read your mind, he slows down just enough so he can whisper to you, “It’s always been you. It’s only ever been you.”
You can’t help the tear that forms in your eye, but it’s quickly kissed away with Soobin’s lips on your cheek and, subsequently, your mouth.
“I’m gonna come, Soobin. Please don’t stop.” His hips work faster, his thumb pressing down and rubbing your clit harder, and you can barely feel your body before it lights up in every area.
Your toes curl, your mouth slacks, and your soul explodes as the pleasure overtakes you. You feel empty yet so full from the endorphins released from your orgasm.
Soobin continues to move his hips against yours. His pace stutters, signaling his own release. He captures his lips with yours as he spills inside of you, your body his to claim completely. Nobody has ever had you in this way—emotionally, mentally, physically.
When you tell Soobin “I love you,” you mean it in every facet of reality, your soul intimately linked with his otherworldly one.
“I love you too, my love.” He smiles like a bashful child, taking you into his arms and pulling you closer as the night continues on outside. When you again, bodies intertwined between your sheets, all that you wish for now is for the moment to last forever.
And when you fall asleep that night in his arms a few hours later, you pray to every god you can name that it never ends.
The expectation of waking up to the warmth of Soobin’s arms and kisses dies when you feel his empty side of the bed. You search the entire house , your dogs padding behind you as you search every corner for him.
To your terror and slowly breaking heart, he remains to be seen. Soobin is gone like he was never there to begin with, your house flooding with a chill that hits you to the core.
You crawl back into bed, naked and alone, tears streaming down your face. The only time you rise is to let the animals eat and use the bathroom. For the rest of the day, you remain in bed like a phantom. Half out of your body, half inside of it to feel every ounce of pain. Each shred of sadness reminds you that you still exist, and the man—angel—that you love is gone.
Yeonjun has his head in his hand when another pair of associates throw Soobin in front of his desk. Soobin put up an intense fight in the resulting scuffle to bring him back to the office above Earth, but he doesn’t regret it. The only thing he regrets is not leaving you with some sort of explanation, even something as little as a minute to tell you he loves you.
“When I approved your descent, I expected you to help your assignment. Not sleep with her.” Yeonjun sighs and reads over the paperwork at his desk. “The guys above me are gonna love this.”
“Jun, please.” Soobin falls down on his scraped knees and raises his hands in a prayer. “Let me just tell her—”
“What else is there to explain? You’ve clearly done enough.”
“I’m begging you—”
“You think I’m going to let you spend another second with her and make me look like an idiot? No.” He slams his hand on the desk. “If you’re lucky, Soobin, all the archangels will do is send you to the second circle of Hell. I’m surprised they’re not reprimanding me as your superior. You broke our greatest oath.”
Do not consort with humans, Soobin reminds himself as tears stream down his face. “I love her, Yeonjun. And you know she loves me. Didn’t I do my job? I found her a soulmate, just like she wished for.”
Yeonjun shakes his head with a sad smirk. “Don’t think you can get around our rules this time, Soobin. I just called you here to tell you the council will see you in the morning. Be grateful they’re giving you a chance to explain yourself.”
The angels that brought Soobin in drag him away to the lower cells of the building. As he’s pushed and pulled through dark hallways, Soobin has barely enough time to come up with a plan to fix what he’s ruined. Barely.
Your dream is almost the same as the one you envisioned months ago, the dark cavern welcoming you like an old friend. The fog of your transition from sleep to dreaming still pervades your senses. You barely have time to make out the details before Soobin has you wrapped in his arms, holding you so tightly that you feel the air knocked out of your lungs. “Thank God it worked.”
You sob immediately when you recognize Soobin’s voice and his arms around you. It’s like a magnet the way you gravitate to one another, not worrying if the dream will last a second or into eternity. You can barely remember the pain of being without him now that he’s in front of you.
You call his name as he kisses the crown of your hair. He backs you into the desk at the far end of the room, lifting you up by the legs to sit on its marble top. He trails his lips down until they meet your own, and he says so tenderly, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up.”
Breaking into a fit of sad laughter, you run your hands through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m just happy you’re here with me now.” You kiss him again and again, until your lips feel bruised and sore.
Soobin sheds a tear and looks back into the night outside of his office door. “I don’t have long. They’ll bring me back to my cell soon. But I wanted to tell you I love you. And I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
“W-Why are you being punished? You did what you were s-supposed to,” you stutter, a mournful knot building in your throat.
“I fell in love with a human when I shouldn’t have,” he answers, another tear welling in his eye. “But it was worth every rule I broke. How could I regret finding my best friend?” Soobin smiles despite the pain that you two share.
You hiccup into his neck. “When will I see you again?”
“I-I don't know. But I’ll fix this,” he assures you, a steadfast determination in his expression.
“You don’t know that for sure, though,” you cry, heart ripping deeper at the seams with each word.
“I don’t, but for now, know that I love you. I love you more than my existence allows.” He kisses you one more time as the edges of your dream blur. “It’s only for now, I promise.”
When you wake tangled in the comforter on your bed, the morning sky bleeding through your window, you begin the torture of waiting for the person you love most in the world to come back to you.
TWO MONTHS LATER
For the past seven Fridays since Soobin left, you’ve stayed in and waited for the phone to ring or the doorbell to sound, any way to signify that he hasn’t broken his promise. You don’t bother going into work, trying to find any excuse to stay in the house.
Beomgyu tries to get you out, go on dates, avoid the aching hole in your chest, but he doesn’t understand. None of your friends do. They think he’s left without an explanation like another random asshole would, but they don’t understand how wrong they are.
They’ll never understand you’re waiting for the one who took your heart between his hands and still holds it to this day, even if you can’t see him for now.
For now. The words play in your mind on a loop, the sound of Soobin’s voice as vivid as the day he said them between kisses in your dream. It’s only for now, I promise.
This Friday, you take his words to heart and decide to go out. You walk Key and Bori, the morning sun turning into an afternoon sky clear of clouds. The warmer weather signals winter is giving way to spring, although you can still feel the chill in your bones.
When you bring the dogs back home, you’re still too restless to stay inside, too many memories in the house haunting you with Soobin’s presence.
You walk around the town streets, the memories of those you love the most filling your heart with a solemn nostalgia that edges out the parts of you that are still miserable. You and Beomgyu learning to ride bikes around the animal shelter. Your parents treating you to your first scoop of mint chocolate ice cream after you won gold at your spelling contest. The kiss you shared with Soobin in your living room, and all the kisses that followed.
Each one contains longing for the past, yet offers some hope for making fresh memories in the same spots. And even locations you haven’t discovered yet.
By the second trip around the blocks you know too well, nighttime rears its head. The city lights mark the street names and numbers with a yellow glow, the heavens above pitch black.
Your legs are sluggish, ankles sore from continuing through the world around you without stopping for rest, but no physical excursion compared to the mental expedition you’ve been on today, a microcosm for all of your tangled emotions for the past two months.
You almost give into the demands of your body when you hear the faintest sound of your name behind you. Turning on shaking limbs, you see the perfect contours and edges of the man you love in crystal clarity. His shoulders heave as his face remains wet with tears, his body on the verge of convulsing from the travel back to you.
Although every muscle strains and screams inside of you, you run towards him with all of your might and crash into his arms. The water on your cheeks mixes with his when your skin touches. He kisses each tear before he reaches your lips, his mouth tasting of salt and peppermint.
“I’m here. I’m here, my love.” He strokes your hair with his hand and runs the other across your back.
“I didn’t get to say I love you too, last time I saw you,” you say, the words tumbling over one another as you try getting them about. You’re crying and mumbling and it all feels incoherent, but you know every sound you emit is true.
Soobin chuckles, and you’re reminded how beautiful the sound of his laughter is. “You never had to say it back, my love. I already knew.”
Your heartbeat is erratic, but it doesn’t distract you from the fact Soobin’s heart seems to beat as well. A strong, even-tempered rhythm, one you’ve never heard before. You look him deep in the eyes, needing to hear the words on his lips. “Are you—“
His voice is still hoarse and tattered, but his smile is like the salve to all of your wounds. “I told you I would come back to you.”
You whimper, another tear escaping from your eyes. “You gave up everything for me? Your immortality, your friends, your—”
He presses a finger to your lips before running it over your cheek, his expression soft. “I completed my mission. And my everything is right here with me.”
You kiss his lips, all the I love you’s not enough to encapsulate every feeling and gift Soobin’s given you since he came into your life. You both may be on Earth, one old and one new human soul linked as one, but you know this is what it means to be higher than even the immensity of heaven.
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jacob elordi and yn make valentine's dinner | vogue
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
"Hi Vogue, It's Jacob," he greeted the camera, he was wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans but looked absolutely dreamy, "And today I'm cooking a special Valentine's dinner for my girlfriend YN."
You smiled at him from the side of your kitchen, ready for him to introduce you.
"She's actually here to help me," that was your cue to walk into the frame, he pulled you by the waist and you grabbed the side of his face gently and pecked his lips, "She cannot cook to save her life," he spoke to the camera again, "So my role in the relationship is basically to be her personal chef."
"Okay, cut the sass," you chimed in, "Let's do it, what are we making today?"
"We're making a heart shaped pizza, since It's Valentine's day, then we're making espresso martinis, and a chocolate lava cake to top it off."
"Sounds delicious," you said, "Perks of having Jacob Elordi as your boyfriend, he grabs the stuff from the top shelves for you and he cooks a full course meal."
Jacob winked at you and then to the camera, then the crew stepped in to give you everything you needed for your dish.
"Right so we're gonna start off by making the pizza dough," Jacob began, "We need flour, oil, water, sugar, salt and instant yeast."
"And of course, a good looking sous chef," you teased, batting your eyelashes at the camera.
"That you are," Jacob pecked your cheek, "Now, sous chef, we need two cups,"
"Of this?" you pointed to the flour bowl.
"Yes," he put the ingredient on the mixer, "Two teaspoons of sugar,"
"I'll do that one," you grabbed the small bowl that contained what you thought was the sugar, and Jacob abruptly stopped you.
"No, love, that's the salt."
"Well dammit," you quickly put the bowl down, "Can we cut that part?" you told the crew and they laughed, Jacob just pinched your side affectionately.
"Let me add the ingredients into the mixer and you can help me pour the water, okay?"
Jacob put everything that was needed on the mixer and you slowly poured the water as the machine started working.
"So this is starting to come together now," Jacob spoke to the camera, "Just need it to turn up the heat a little bit," he said playfully and winked at the camera.
"You did not just say that."
"I did just say that," he winked at you now, "Now help me put the oil on."
You did as he said, pouring the oil on the mixture and then covering it with plastic foil.
"We need to put it in the fridge for two hours so it can rise,"
"I feel like Martha Stewart," you put a hand on your hip, "This is like, my dream."
The video showed a time lapse indicating that two hours had passed and it was time to get the dough out of the fridge.
"So Jacob is getting the dough out of the fridge," you explained to the camera, "And we're going to make two separate pizzas to see which one turns out the best."
"Are we actually gonna cut the heart?" Jacob approached you with the bowl, "But it looks so pretty, love."
"Sorry, I'm going to break your heart today on Valentine's day."
"Jesus," Jacob's eyes widened, "So this has been chilling for two hours, and now we have to make it look like a heart.
"Okay, move aside," you moved Jacob's hand away from the dough and he laughed, "This would be easier with a rolling pin but okay."
"So to do the heart shape we need scissors," he sad after carefully folding the dough in half, "Try it, love."
"Like you do with a card, right?" Jacob gave you a confused look, "A Valentine's day card."
"Just don't cut the whole pizza in half," you rolled your eyes at him, "I'm not judging your cooking abilities, love. Just guiding you through the process."
"Just go get the ceramic pizza stone and let's get this in the oven."
"We need to put on the ingredients first, don't we?" Jacob raised his eyebrows
"Oh you're right," you grabbed a bowl with tomato sauce, "So I'm going to cover the whole thing, just leaving space for the crust," you poured the sauce with a spoon, "Am I overdoing this?" you asked your boyfriend.
"No, you like it, like a lot of tomato, don't you?", you nodded, "Just spread it out a little bit," you did as he said, "It's perfect babe, well done."
"We're diving this," you signaled with your hands, "This is your territory and this is mine.
"Okay but let's not cut it, because then that's like cutting the heart and that's sad."
The crew asked you to describe a romantic moment as you decorated your pizza, and Jacob was the first one to speak.
"She is really romantic," he said as he peeled an onion, "The other day when we got back from New York she planted this cute, like herb garden outside on our patio and we had a picnic there, it was lovely."
"One of the most romantic things Jacob has ever done for me was when he surprised me with a spontaneous road trip to a secluded cabin in the mountains," you added, sprinkling shredded mozzarella cheese on your side of the pizza. "He had everything planned out, a cozy fireplace, a bottle of wine, and a clear view of the starlit sky. It was incredibly romantic."
"Yeah, that was a special trip," Jacob smiled at you, his eyes soft at the memory, as he arranged slices of pepperoni on his half of the pizza, "She was freezing so we cuddled a lot, that was nice."
You finished up your pizza and Jacob carefully placed it on the heated oven, then the crew got everything ready to star with your dessert.
"Alright, so we're making the chocolate lava cake," Jacob clasped his hands together, "Do you think you can do it, babe?
"Let's do it!"
You and Jacob followed the recipe for the cake, you helped him pour the eggs and mix the ingredients together, earning compliments from him about your cooking skills improving.
"So now, these," Jacob grabbed the tray with the two small chocolate cakes, "Which YN just poured very perfectly, are going in the oven for about 12 minutes at 450.
You closed the oven and the final thing to prepare for your menu was your drinks, the espresso martini.
"So we're going to make the espresso martini, the virgin espresso martini," Jacob said to the camera, "Because this one is on a non alcohol diet."
"You gotta keep the system healthy!"
Jacob poured all the ingredients into the drink mixer and moved it up and down, his biceps twitching at the movement.
"I'm impressed," you said as he poured down the drink in your glasses, "That was sexy, baby."
"Thanks, glad to know," Jacob winked at you, "Cheers," he handed your glass, you clicked it with his and sipped at the drink, "This is pretty good, let's take it to the table."
You moved to the table, where you pizza and cakes were perfectly placed along with some lit up candles and flowers for decoration.
"This looks amazing," you said as you looked at the food in front of you.
"Looks nice, doesn't it?" Jacob took the seat in front of you, "My side of the pizza looks nicer."
"No," you said with a serious tome but then your eyes softened, "Happy Valentine's day, baby."
"Happy Valentine's day," he smiled fondly at you, "You happy? You like this?"
"Yeah, I love it," you squeezed your hand quickly, "Can we start eating?"
You ate your dinner, bantering about which side of the pizza was better and which one of you had been the better chef, even though there were cameras and crew around, it felt like an intimate moment between the two of you.
"Here, try the dessert," Jacob said once you were done with your pizza, spoon feeding you a bite, "It's good, isn't it?"
"So good, I'm such a chocolate lover," you said, "I feel like I was great help to you in the kitchen, what do you say?"
"Really good help," he took a spoonful of the cake, "Best looking osus chef ever."
"Thank you, I really appreciate that," you squeezed his hand again, "I really tried for you today."
"Yeah, cause usually I make her a drink and she just watches me cook," he told the camera, "She's obsessed with me, can't take her eyes off."
"Cheers babe, I love you," you ignored his comment and raised your drink, "happy Valentine's day,
"Happy Valentine's day,"
"I'm going for it," you said as you rose from your seat, "Why do I always am eager to be the kisser?"
"She just wants to kiss me so bad," he stood from his seat and placed a kiss to your lips, "Love you."
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In My Eyes | Azriel
Azriel x Rhysand's Sister | Summary: Azriel has lost you once and when unseen circumstances bring you back to life, he will not lose you again. Even if it means going against his family.
warnings: mentions of death (descriptive and a bit gruesome)/loss, angst 💔
a/n: I wanted to take a little break from all the fluff I've been writing so here's a little angst. I listened to Jacob's prayer from the Minari soundtrack a lot along with Thom Yorke's Hearing Damage while writing this. Hence the title bc I couldn't think of anything else lol and also because I feel like Az would be so down for his mate, she really could do no wrong in his eyes.
A haunting stillness permeates the air, broken only by the occasional whisper of Azriel’s shadows. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He wants to turn and leave but his legs betray his mind, prompting him to go forward. Cracked cobblestone paths lead him to the castle’s doors and as Azriel pushes the door open, it releases a loud groaning noise.
Inside Hybern’s castle, broken furniture lies scattered and the once opulent halls now echo with the sound of dripping water. His shadows stir uneasily. A sudden gust of wind brushes past him, carrying a pleading whisper along with it.
“Help me.”
Goosebumps rise on Azriel's skin as his shadows freeze in place. There was something familiar about that haunting plea that sent shivers down his spine.
“Azriel.”
"y/n," he breathes, the mere utterance causing his shadows to stir into a desperate frenzy. His steps quicken, evolving into a full-blown run, his heart pounding in sync with the frantic pace of his movements.
"y/n!" he calls out again, this time louder. His eyes, stinging with tears, frantically scanning the endless expanse of the haunted halls for any trace of you.
"Azriel, help me!"
Azriel runs and runs, but the hall stretches infinitely before him.
“Help! I’m al–”
And then, with a jolt, Azriel wakes.
Cold sweat clings to him like a second skin as the tendrils of the dream slowly release their grip on his consciousness. Your voice–it felt so real. But he knows it’s a dream because when he turns his head, the spot beside him is empty.
As it has been for centuries.
Azriel allows his heavy eyelids to flutter shut once more as he catches his breath. This was just another nightmare, he tells himself. It does nothing to soothe him. The more he thinks about it, the more unease grips him. Even his shadows are shaky, trembling as they brush against him.
For centuries, his dreams have been plagued by nightmares. It had always been the same one. The one that made him relive the moment he found out you were dead. Azriel had been the one to find the box that carried your mother’s severed head down Windhaven’s river and when he had spotted another box, all he found was a severed finger. A severed finger wearing a ring he was all too familiar with because he had been the one to place it on your finger.
Azriel remembers the way his heart had dropped to his stomach. He remembers the way he had desperately tugged on the bond only to find nothing but an eerie quietness on your end. He knew at that moment you were gone and you weren’t coming back.
The scream that tore through his throat was as violent as the gaping black hole crushing through his chest. It curdled the blood of anyone within earshot and had the surrounding birds jolting from their perches, their feathers rustling in a panicked flutter. Not even his shadows, who had carried him through his darkest times, could console him.
Azriel had no body to mourn. No hand to hold on to. No face to caress for the last time. He could only hope that your death had been quick and painless.
But this nightmare was new. Different. You were alive in this one. Or sounded like it.
Azriel opens his eyes and he brings himself to sit up in bed. His hands, weary and scarred, rub at his face in exhaustion, brushing away the lingering tears that sting at his eyes. He then looks down at his hands, aching to feel your warmth once more. Even if only in a dream.
The glimmering ring on Azriel's left hand sparkles under the tender caress of moonlight, drawing his attention. His trembling fingers trace the contours of the band. He can’t help but turn and twist it, yearning for a complete view of the engraved letters. It spells out your name and the ache of grief intensifies with every twist. He hasn’t taken the ring off since the day he married you, even after death did you part.
It compliments the smaller, daintier ring wrapped around his neck that hangs on a thin silver chain. Your ring. His name is engraved on it just as yours is on his. The only difference is that yours cradles a captivating cobalt blue gem. A precious fragment, crafted from his own siphon and meticulously refined by himself. He wanted you to carry a part of him wherever you went.
Now, he is left to carry it. The only piece he has left of you.
A poignant reminder that though death may have claimed you, the essence of your union lingers on. He can’t imagine loving anyone else. He doesn’t want to love anyone else. For him, it was you and only you. He could only thank the Mother for allowing him the time he had with you but also curse her for taking you from him.
His hand closes around your ring, grappling with the disorienting emotions coursing through him. Despite the centuries that have separated you, an instinctual yearning tugs at Azriel's core. He reaches out for the intangible thread that once connected you. He knows he’ll only receive the familiar void. It had been this way for ages. He’d wake from his nightmare, reach out with false hope and receive nothing in return.
Yet, this time, just like the nightmare he woke from, is different.
The shadows that hover over Azriel's shoulders, murmuring their soothing lullabies, suddenly cease in their dance. His eyes widen, capturing a glimmer of something long forgotten. Hope. It stirs within him, a dormant ember flickering to life after centuries of darkness.
For a fleeting moment, there's a response. A fragile shimmer through the bond. So delicate that it's almost imperceptible. And it’s coming from your side.
Azriel tugs again, cautiously and slowly. Anxiously and holding his breath. Even his shadows don’t dare to stir. But as he awaits another sign, silence envelops him. There’s no response.
He tugs again, desperately seeking confirmation. And then again and again. His tugs grow harsher, more desperate, each pull an urgent plea for any sign, any trace of you. Yet, the bond remains eerily silent, as if mocking the fragile tendrils of hope that dared to rekindle within him.
Maybe it was all a figment of his imagination.
But he swore he heard your voice, swore that tug, as faint as it was, was there. The crushing weight of loss descends once more, and it's as if he's losing you all over again. The echoes of hope vanish, leaving only a hollowing ache. His shadows begin to stir again, anxious to fill that hollowness in fear of the malevolent darkness that threatens to creep back inside and consume him all over again.
“No, no, no,” Azriel cries, his voice breaking into a mere whisper. With tear-streaked eyes, he looks up towards the moon, its ethereal glow filtering through the window on the ceiling.
“Please,” he says, beseeching the celestial body to heed his prayer.
Yet, the void persists and an overwhelming surge of fear takes hold, tightening its icy grip around him. Because though he thinks of you all the time, he’s beginning to forget the small details. Such as the exact shade of your eye, the radiant sparkle in your eyes as you’d smile at him, the comforting warmth of your laugh, the precise hue of blush that would grace your cheeks every time he told you he loved you.
He doesn’t want to forget. As painful as the memories are now, he wants to anchor himself into every single one of them. To hold onto the exquisite weight of every detail.
"Please," Azriel pleads once more. His body quivers with each sob, hunched over in bed, fingers tightly gripping his chest as if trying to anchor his unraveling soul. The shadows, usually under his control, writhe in a frenzied storm, mirroring the emotions swirling inside him. Some tendrils slither out from beneath the door, seeking out help.
It doesn’t take long for them to reach someone. Rhysand swiftly materializes in the room. "Azriel!" he calls out, a voice cutting through the tumult of emotions that cling to the air like heavy mist. “What’s wrong?”
"I heard her, Rhys," Azriel confesses through tearful sobs, his pain echoing in the shadows. "I felt her."
“What if she’s alive? I–I need to find her.”
Rhysand's heart plummets, a solemn gravity darkening his features. “She’s dead, Az,” he murmurs softly, tone laced with empathy. While Azriel lost his mate, Rhysand had lost his sister. He, too, mourns for you.
Azriel shakes his head in denial. “She needs me.”
Rhysand takes a deep breath, blinking back his own tears. He then turns toward the doorway, meeting Feyre’s wide eyes. She had rushed to the room along with him. "Please, get Cas," he tells her.
**
As Azriel secures his siphons, he stares down at his left wrist, where a lunar emblem is etched onto his tan skin. It had disappeared when you had died but now, it is vivid against his skin once more. He doesn’t know exactly when it had reappeared. He was binding his hands before a training session, weeks ago, when he noticed it. The reappearance of your mating tattoo carries with it the weight of the vows you had spoken to him.
“As long as I’m alive, I will love you with every breath.”
But you weren’t alive. You were still dead. After that night almost a year ago, Azriel had looked for you. Every night and day. For months. He was driving himself into pure madness, even his shadows had grown restless. There had been no more signs, no more traces of you but he still pushed on and he would’ve continued if Rhysand hadn’t forced him to stop.
“Are you ready?”
Azriel nods at Rhysand, securing the last of his weapon to his leathers. He then spares a glance toward Cassian, who is doing the same. It had been a long week of planning for this very moment.
Koschei initiated contact through a cryptic note delivered to Rhysand. The message proposed a meeting at the lake. A “peace” conference, he had called it. One that exclusively also required the presence of Cassian and Azriel. The terms were strange, but with dwindling options and time slipping away, Rhysand reluctantly consented.
"I'll be back before you know it," Rhysand reassures Feyre, bending down to plant a tender kiss on her temple. His gaze lingers on their infant son cradled in Feyre's arms, his smile warm as he places a gentle kiss on Nyx's head. "Save me a slice of Elain's cake for later.”
"Alright," Feyre exhales, her eyes still etched with worry. Her attention shifts towards the inked markings on her left arm and a fleeting shadow brushes softly against the tattoo. Lifted by the subtle touch, her gaze meets Azriel's and then Cassian's. In that silent exchange, they convey an unspoken commitment to protect their family at any cost. Feyre can only manage a small smile before the three males winnow away.
**
As soon as they arrive at the lake, Azriel feels a stirring in his chest. His attention is immediately drawn to a lone white swan. The swan glides across the murky water. A looming darkness rises from the lake, blocking his view of the swan and causing his shadows to jerk back.
"Welcome," Koschei's voice whispers through the wind.
Rhysand moves forward, standing in front of Cassian and Azriel, despite the anxiety coursing through him. “Let’s cut to the chase. What do you want?”
The looming darkness swells, and a malevolent chuckle reverberates from its core. Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves behind his wings and his entire body stiffens. He can sense Cassian do the same beside him. "You know precisely what I desire."
"And you know why we won't grant it," Rhysand retorts. There’s an icy rage swirling in his violet eyes that overcomes his sense of fear. He can only imagine what a world ruled by Koschei would be like and he refuses to allow the death god the power to harm his family.
"I anticipated your reluctance, Rhysand. That's why I've prepared a gift. Aid in my liberation from this lake, and it's yours."
Rhysand scoffs, unwavering. "No gift will entice me to free you."
"Are you certain about that?"
The wind intensifies, rustling leaves and brushing against the Illyrians, raising goosebumps in its wake. Birds, concealed in the trees, erupt in panicked flight. Rhysand, undeterred, digs his hands into his pockets, his eyes narrowing in question at the death god.
Koschei's laughter echoes again. "Perhaps I should show you first. It’s only fair, wouldn't you agree?"
The wind abruptly ceases, plunging the world into an eerie hush. The shadow that looms over the lake drifts to the side, allowing the swan from earlier to glide forward. Suddenly, a dark mist envelops the bird, its form blurring and shifting until the swan's elegant feathers dissolve into a cascade of shimmering silver. From the mist, a cloaked figure emerges, her midnight-blue robes trailing behind her like the ripples of the lake.
With each step, the water seems to part beneath her feet, revealing the silhouette of a woman long thought lost to the depths. You.
“y/n!”
Azriel instinctively moves forward, hand reaching out towards you. Cassian, however, restrains him, a powerful grip on his brother’s arm preventing any impulsive advance.
Rhysand's eyes widen as you approach, a slow and haunting revelation unfolding in the dim light. It is you, standing right in front of them. In your blood and flesh. But your eyes–your eyes, once bright with life, now mirror the opaque shroud of mist hovering around you.
“This can’t be,” Rhysand breathes, his voice barely a whisper, disbelief coloring his tone. “How?
“King Hybern resurrected your sister from the magic of the Cauldron the same way he did with Jurian. You see, Tamlin was desperate to get Feyre back at that time. He let his guard down, allowing Ianthe to not only disclose the location of the Archeron sisters but also the location of your dear sister’s remains. Tamlin buried her body somewhere in his lands but his father had kept her wings. As a trophy. Did you know her death was slow and cruel?”
A shudder courses through Rhysand. Cassian’s fist clench at his sides and he spares a glance toward Azriel, whose body is shaking. None of them knew the details of your murder. An apprehensive feeling churned in their stomachs and Rhysand felt the bile rise in his throat.
“The sons of Spring did not show her the same mercy they did your mother. They drugged her with faebane, rendering her powerless so that she could not fight back. They sloughed her finger off to gift to you. Then, they took her wings. Let her bleed to death."
Suddenly, Azriel’s chest tightens. He can’t breathe. A pained expression crosses his face and his knees go weak. Images of you being tortured to death flood his mind and all he can think about is how he failed you. Cassian’s grip on him tightens even more, keeping him steady.
“King Hybern was so sure he’d win the war that he kept your sister hidden. He knew the Shadowsinger was her mate so he drugged her with faebane the same way the sons of Spring did. He didn’t want any of you finding out she was alive.”
“Hybern didn’t want to ruin the surprise. After his victory, he had planned to take you all back to the castle to torment you with her live state. Only to have you die at her hands. Of course, as you can see, that didn’t work out. Briallyn knew of her resurrection and brought her to me.”
Azriel can’t take his eyes off of you. His shadows dart toward you, slithering up your legs and caressing every inch of you. They linger on your wings. You don’t move. You don’t even blink.
But you’re alive.
All this time you had been alive. That nightmare he had, it was real. You were calling out to him, asking for help. Tears sting at his eyes. That tug he had felt from your shared bond. It was also real. And the tattoo that had reappeared on his skin was not a cruel trick from the Cauldron. But a sign.
“I’ve become very familiar with your sister. She’s very powerful but I’m sure you knew that.”
Rhysand’s gaze flickers to where you stand, heart aching. It’s you but not you. Unlike Azriel, he can’t help but think what if this is all a trick? An illusion to get him to side with Koschei? Cassian meets his worried gaze. They both glance toward Azriel and then exchange a look.
“Let her go.” Cassian finally speaks, hazel eyes glaring at the darkness before them. “And take me instead.”
“Lord of Bloodshed,” Koschei addresses Cassian in an amused manner. “What a most gracious offer. Unfortunately, for you, I have no desire to replace y/n. You, however, are welcome to join me of your own free will.”
“While I am confined to this lake, y/n is going to do everything I physically cannot. She’ll be my proxy, my spymaster. Isn’t that right?”
"Yes, master.”
The words slip from your lips like ice, each syllable devoid of the warmth and affection that once filled them. Azriel's heart lurches in his chest, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach as he hears the lifeless tone of your voice.
"No," Azriel growls, the sound reverberating through the air with a primal intensity. His voice, usually steady and composed, now carries an edge of desperation and fury. “You have no right to her. She’s mine.”
Rhysand keeps his hands in his pockets, hiding the fact that they’re slightly trembling. He eyes you once more, pure agony seeping into his very core. He mentally takes a deep breath and looks back toward the looming shadow over the lake, mustering all his strength to feign indifference.
“I don’t understand how this is a gift.”
“Here’s the deal, Rhysand. You help free me from this lake and I free y/n from my control. It’s as simple as that. Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you a week to think about it.”
All seven of Azriel’s siphons ignite in a cobalt blaze of raw power. He will not let Koschei control you. You’ve already suffered enough. Cassian struggles to maintain his hold, his grip faltering against the force of Azriel's will.
“Azriel, no!”
The sound that erupts from Azriel was more animal than human—a deep, throaty growl that spoke of primal fury. He breaks free from Cassian, stumbling forward. He regains his footing with ease, rushing toward the lake. Toward the looming figure. Toward you. He’s so close, the water lapping at his boots when your clouded eyes finally meet his.
Burning pain courses through Azriel’s veins, bringing him to his knees and suddenly, he feels like he’s on fire. Your power takes hold over him, penetrating to the core of his being, carving through the marrow of each bone. He knows the fire is not real. It’s only an illusion but it feels as if every single cell in his body is being tormented with the worst agony imaginable. He can barely hear himself scream over the roaring pain in his ears.
Two strong hands clamp onto Azriel’s shoulders and he writhes against it, fighting it. “No,” his voice is a mere hoarse whisper as Rhysand uses his own power to pull him out of your illusion.
As Rhysand’s tendrils of darkness engulf Azriel, the last thing he sees are your eyes. They’re still clouded over, devoid of their usual luster. Yet, against the backdrop of emptiness, tears escape from them.
**
Azriel wakes to a dull ache in his head. He feels the gentle caress of his shadows against his face, attempting to alleviate the headache that grips him. With a slow blink, he reluctantly greets the soft illumination of his room at the riverhouse. Memories of what happened earlier flood back with startling clarity and his wings quiver involuntarily. A physical manifestation of the anguish that had ravaged his spirit. He doesn’t care that it was you who inflicted that pain upon him.
It pales in comparison to the pain you must be feeling inside. A mere glimpse of the raw emotions raging within you was enough to pierce Azriel's heart. Like a tempestuous storm, the waves of pain surged through your bond. But then, abruptly, he was shut out.
The image of your tear stained cheeks as you brought him to his knees plagues him with uneasiness. It’s this restless unease that stirs him, prompting him to rise from the bed. He looks toward his door, his shadows curling against his ears. Heavy with determination, he makes his way towards Rhysand’s office.
When Azriel's shadows forcefully swing the doors open, the entire inner circle stands before him. Their expressions betray the weight of their recent discussions. The room falls into a silence, thickened with tension. They had been discussing you. Without him. His hands clench into tight fists, his simmering anger threatening to spill over.
“Azriel,” Feyre greets him with a tense smile. “How are you feeling?”
Azriel’s eyes lock onto Rhysand. Anguish and resentment churn within him and Rhysand's posture stiffens in response
“We have to approach this situation with caution,” Rhysand says, surprised by the steadiness in his own voice despite the weight of their predicament.
“Caution?” Azriel nearly growls, prompting Cassian to inch toward him. “She is my wife! My mate! And you expect me to just sit here and wait for your approval to save her?”
Rhysand frowns, his violet eyes flaring. “You think I don’t hurt too?” He exclaims, his voice breaking as he utters his next words. “She is my sister!”
A hand rests on Azriel’s shoulder. Cassian’s. “I want to save her too. Trust me, I do. But we can’t just jump into–”
Azriel shakes Cassian’s hand off, his shadows hissing toward the taller male. “What if it were Nesta?”
Cassian frowns and he spares a glance toward his mate, who is watching the scene unfold with a somber look on her face. Azriel releases a frustrated huff before redirecting his gaze towards Rhysand, a pointed finger aimed accusingly at his friend and High Lord.
"If it were Feyre," he insists, his voice tinged with both desperation and conviction, "you would see no reason."
Rhysand's silence speaks volumes.
"I failed her once," Azriel continues, firm and resolute. "I will not fail her again."
But Rhysand's response is unwavering. "I can't let you go. You have to understand.”
Azriel's jaw tightens. "You can't stop me," he counters in defiance, wings flaring out behind him.
"As your High Lord, I–”
"I'm done," Azriel cuts off sharply before Rhysand can go any further. He’s well aware of the weight of his words but he doesn’t allow them to bring him down. You are his mate, the tether to his soul, and he will put you above all else. Even his family.
"I resign as Spymaster of the Night Court.”
Feyre's eyes glisten with tears as she approaches Azriel, brushing off Rhysand's attempt to hold her back. "Azriel, please," she implores, her voice trembling with emotion. She knows what Azriel must be feeling. She knows because she lived it herself when Rhysand died after the war. But she also knows–or at least, hopes–that there’s another way to bring you back home. She’s already making plans in her mind to reach out to Helion.
"Don't go. We'll find a way to bring her back, I swear it. Just give us time."
Azriel shakes his head, the thought of waiting to rescue you souring in his mouth. He can't bear the thought of you in pain, needing him, while he stands idle. The urgency to act gnaws at his soul, a primal instinct driving him to protect you at any cost.
“You’ll abandon your family then?” Amren asks. Despite her efforts to maintain her usual façade of indifference, a faint glimmer in her eyes betrays the struggle.
“I will not abandon my mate.” Azriel says, taking a step back. “She’s my family too.”
"Don't do this," Rhysand pleads as he takes a tentative step forward, his hand outstretched toward his brother.
Azriel takes another step back, his hazel eyes darting across the room, absorbing the silent pleas etched on the faces of the inner circle. He loves them but he loves you more.
When his gaze locks with Rhysand's again, Rhysand's heart sinks. He realizes that Azriel's mind is already set. His brows knit together in a pained expression. He doesn’t want it to end like this.
"I will not hold this against you," Rhysand manages, his voice strained.
How can he hold this against Azriel? When he would do the same for Feyre. When you, his sister, have been brought back to life only to be imprisoned by Koschei. A gasp fills the room as he drops to his knees.
"But please... just...please..."
The words catch in his throat, choked by the overwhelming grief and helplessness that engulf him. His shoulders slump in defeat as tears blur his vision. Feyre instinctively wraps her arms around him, pulling him close. A brief sanctuary in the midst of his shattering world.
He knows he cannot make Azriel promise anything and Azriel knows this too. Despite the grim circumstances, there is a flicker of solace in Rhysand knowing that whatever terrors may come, you won't face them alone.
“I’m sorry,” is all Azriel says before winnowing away.
**
Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves back behind his wings when he arrives at the familiar lake. His gaze immediately seeks out the water's edge, where wisps of mist still linger. There's no sign of the white swan he had seen earlier.
"I knew you would come around, Shadowsinger," Koschei's voice taunts from the shadows.
"Where is she?" Azriel demands.
Koschei's laughter carries on the wind, but he concedes. You emerge from the surrounding trees, your eyes widening in shock as you lock gazes with Azriel. This time, your eyes are clear, unclouded, and Azriel's heart twists with recognition as he memorizes the exact shade of your eyes all over again.
"You can't be here," you protest, and Azriel's shadows peek out from behind his wings, reacting to the sound of your voice. It's you. It’s really you.
Your eyebrows furrow, mirroring the same pained expression Rhysand had worn just moments ago. You recognize the gleam in his eyes. "No," you plead, your voice barely a whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. "You can't do this. You have to go back. Go back right now!"
Tearing his gaze off of you, Azriel looks toward the ominous silhouette of Koschei. He can feel the air thicken with anticipation, awaiting his next words. He continues to ignore your protests, even as you frantically rush toward his side.
“As long as you have control over her, you have control over me.” Azriel says and then drops to his knees in submission.
"My, my, my. What a lovely surprise," Koschei remarks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Get up!" You cry out, your hands clutching at Azriel's arms in a desperate attempt to pull him away from the lake. Away from Koschei's grasp. "Azriel, get up!"
Azriel’s knees remain rooted to the spot but his body leans into your embrace. His eyes flutter shut as he allows himself a fleeting moment to revel in the warmth of your presence—the warmth he had yearned for over centuries. The warmth he thought he would never feel again.
His eyes open and though Koschei is a mere shadow a couple of feet away, he can feel his gaze burning into his soul.
“I’ll serve you too,” Azriel finally says, sealing his fate alongside yours in the grasp of the death god.
**
"What have you done?" Your voice trembles with disbelief, your eyes still wide with shock as you stare up at Azriel, your hands reaching out to grasp his face. After Azriel swore his loyalty to Koschei, the death god had granted you both permission to be alone. He sent you to his sister’s old cottage, where you’d be staying for now.
Azriel's heart swells at the touch of your warm, soft hands against his skin. He wipes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks, his own emotions overwhelming him. "You're alive," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as he rests his hands on your face.
His fingers trace the familiar contours of your features. Every line, every curve is evidence to the reality of your presence. A presence he had long thought lost to him for eternity. The Cauldron had gifted him once more. Here you are, tangible and real. Alive. He can barely believe his eyes.
As Azriel's fingers brush against your face, his shadows dance eagerly in his wake, reaching out to join in the tender caress. They yearn for the sensation of your skin, their touch as gentle as a whisper, expressing their overwhelming joy in silent echoes. "I love you. I love you. I love you," they chant in a chorus of happiness and the bond in your chest sings back in a language only you three understand.
Despite the tears streaming down his face, there’s such a deep and profound warmth in Azriel’s eyes. As he looks at you, it’s like sunlight breaking through dark stormy clouds. You want to bask in its golden glow but as a thought crosses your mind, you abruptly shrink back from him and your lip quivers.
“I hurt you. I-I didn’t want to but I couldn’t stop it. I hurt you. I made you scr–”
Azriel smiles at you, bringing you back into his protective embrace. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” you breathe, eyes searching for any trace of pain or repulse. You find none and though unleashing your power on your mate was against your will, your guilt threatens to consume you. “I’m so sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry you’re here.”
"Don't be," he murmurs softly, cradling your head against his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, a gentle reassurance of his unwavering presence. He had lost you once. He’s not going to lose you again.
With a heartfelt sigh, he pulls you even closer. “I’m right where I want to be.”
Slowly but surely, the cascade of tears dwindled, leaving a trace of dampness on your cheeks and Azriel’s leathers. In your mate’s arms, you finally have the courage to voice your deepest fear.
"I'm scared, Az. What if I hurt you again? Hurt someone else? What if I do something worse?”
The vulnerability in your voice tugs at his heartstrings, igniting a fierce determination to shield you from any harm. He’d do anything for you.
“You can do no wrong in my eyes.” Azriel responds, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. He then inhales deeply, flooding his senses with your scent. “You don’t know how much I missed you.”
Azriel then pulls away, just enough to look at you again. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you but I’m here now. I won’t fail you this time.”
Your gaze softens. You send a wave of pure love through the bond and Azriel feels his heart flutter at the sensation he’s been deprived of for so long.
“You never failed me, Az.”
Azriel's face breaks into a radiant smile and you smile back at him. It lights up the darkness that had weighed heavily on his heart for centuries. "I love you," his voice is barely above a breath, reveling in the blush that takes over your cheeks in response.
He reaches for the chain around his neck, fingers trembling slightly as he clasps your left hand. His gaze lingers on the lunar tattoo on your arm that matches his for a moment before sliding your wedding ring back onto your finger.
Holding your gaze, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "My mate," he murmurs against your skin. He then kisses the ring on your finger, the cobalt gem glowing in response. “My wife.”
"I love you," you say back, your arms winding around his neck as your fingers caress the soft strands of his hair. He yields to you, allowing himself to be drawn closer. You kiss the corner of his mouth. "My mate."
Then, finally, you press your lips against his. "My husband," you declare softly, sealing your bond with a kiss that echoes the depths of your devotion and commitment to each other.
And for the first time in centuries, Azriel sleeps soundly with you in his arms. Free from the torment of nightmares that had haunted him for so long.
Only to wake up and realize it’s because he’s now living in one.
a/n: Hope you enjoyed! When writing this, I didn't intend for there to be more parts so for now, it's a one-shot. I left the ending open-ended to allow you to interpret it how you want and also, leave room for a sequel in case I ever do want to go back to this. That being said, while I don't have ideas for a sequel in mind as of right now, I did come up with a backstory for Az & reader in this little au so I might write a prequel on how their relationship came to be.
I also have another Az x Rhys's sister series. It is written in third person and it's more of an Az x OC series. You can find it here, if interested. But I do intend to make this au different than that one.
tagging: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444
#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel x rhysand's sister#azriel angst#azriel imagine#azriel one shot#azriel fanfiction#acotar imagine#acotar fanfiction#acotar angst#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar x y/n
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Favorite Hannigram Fics of 2024
So! I’ve been thinking about making this list for weeks but it overwhelmed me — I started reading Hannigram fic this year and have consumed millions of words of it. I began without an ao3 account so many of the ones I started with are lost to the aether, but here are the absolute gems, the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Some are popular, others less known.
My tastes might not be yours, but I am drawn to excellent writing, slow burns, power dynamics and a healthy dose of twisted kink. So! ONWARD!
Note: The Shape of Me Will Always be You and Consenting to Dream are a given.
Blackbird by @emungere - “Shortly after Will kills Garret Jacob Hobbs, he and Hannibal stumble into a D/s relationship. It's a relief to have Hannibal telling him what to do, but the closer they become, the closer he gets to realizing who and what Hannibal really is.”
I love D/s Hannigram and this was exquisite. Everything by emungere is, of course, but this is my favorite.
Bram Stoker’s HANNIBAL by @dbmars - “Hannibal + Bram Stoker's Dracula + the classic novel = a new version of the seductive vampire legend.”
A love letter to both the 90s film and the original work. This is the longest fic I read this year and it consumed me for weeks. It’s gorgeous, sexy, beautifully-written and every casting choice made me kick my feet with glee.
Secretary by FragileTeacup and ThisIsMyDesignHannibal - “Will Graham needs a job. Since quitting the FBI, he’s been adrift for months, broken and lost; chasing a desire he doesn’t understand in increasingly destructive ways. What he needs is stability, direction, something to help put his life back in order and quiet the buzzing in his head.”
Secretary is one of my favorite films ever, and this take on it had me foaming at the mouth. It’s so good. SO GOOD.
Hinterland by @pastelwell - “When they crash into the water he believes it’s over. He followed his final impulse to do the right thing by his friends, his family, the world. The last flutters of morality within him had guided him, even as he looked into the eyes of a murderer who had somehow compelled his fall from grace. Here, in the frigid deep waters, their chapter is closed and their story is concluded. Except it isn’t. This is just the beginning.”
A divine post-fall fic of rehabilitation, angst, longing and some of the hottest smut imaginable. I love a post-fall fic and this is top-tier!!
With skin intact and altered souls by romanticallyinept - Will snorts his laughter, shifting to tuck his hands under his arms. “Come on,” he says, turning his head to look over at Hannibal. “The chances of two serial killers being in one car would be astronomical.”
They’re both serial killers!!! What are the odds!! This one is so fun, so fucked, so hot. Really great dialogue.
Our Shadows, That are Bold, Sing by @highermagic - “The monster under Will's bed calls himself Hannibal. He has lived there since Will was old enough to have a bed. He is very smart, and Will likes him very much. He protects Will's dreams, wakes him when he has nightmares. He embraces Will with shadows that black out the morning light when dawn comes, and sings soft songs that Will doesn't know.”
Listen, I read basically every one of HigherMagic’s fics this year. They’re all, every one of them, incredible. This one really got me, though. Monster Hannibal is my husband now.
patroclus in furs by bleakmidwinter - “Will Graham has been acting in heterosexual porn for years but is fired when his manager encourages him to take a higher-paying job for a homosexual centric porn company. There, he finds his expectations turned upside down.”
This is obviously ABSURD but oh my god, did I love it. Will Graham having a sexual identity crisis with notoriously sadistic porn god Hannibal is like candy to me. 10/10.
Cuisine Euphonique by thecountessolivia - “Nightmares brought on by a gruesome case lead Will to some unorthodox therapy in the form of a YouTube cooking channel.”
Will gets obsessed with Hannibal’s secret ASMR channel. Incredible phone sex is the natural conclusion. The descriptions of sound in this are viscerally gorgeous.
Funeral of Flowers by thecountessolivia - “Venice, 1870. The heart of winter. The once great city republic is on its knees. The banned institution of Carnevale lives on discreetly in the masked balls that light up the grand palazzi of the rich and the well-born.”
Hannigram at Carnevale. Sumptuous, longing, decadently described historical AU. Loved this to death.
Black Rock Mountain by bokunojinsei - “Will is a hitchhiker with questionable hobbies. Hannibal is a man who has questionable motives. When Hannibal drives by Will who just so happens to need a ride, things quickly take a turn from the questionable to the downright depraved.”
An even smuttier They’re Both Serial Killers fic that had me howling in the streets. You want bloody horny Hannigram? This is elite!!
To Fuel Your Radiance by GoldenUsagi - “AU where Will is the actual Devil. After Hannibal sells his soul, a fascination begins to develop between them. Will is intrigued by the unique monster Hannibal is, while Hannibal thinks Will is the most magnificent thing he's ever encountered. As their conversations continue, their involvement with each other becomes something else entirely.”
I’m not gonna lie, I think this was my favorite fic I read this year. Will as The Devil is so hot I screamed. There’s a scene at the end that is so fucked I lost my mind. Not even close to safe or sane. A masterpiece.
The Night Owl by sourweather - “Will works the graveyard shift at his University's 24 hour Library. There's another student who only comes in to study in the dead of night. Will can't explain why, but something about that boy has caught his attention.”
College AU! COLLEGE AU! Featuring some great Beverly fun.
An Ounce of Wit by winddragon - “AKA a modern magical AU where the entire point is to turn Will Graham into a catboy.”
The infamous Will is a Catboy fic that is somehow SO good. I had to be convinced to read this but I’m so glad I did. It’s an absolute delight, and the dark magic is so cool?! Goofy, yes, but delicious.
old-fashioned divinity candy by antiheroblake - “the relationship between old money, med student hannibal lecter and his newly rich sugar daddy, will graham”
An ongoing WIP that has me hooked by the throat. If you like the boys being absolutely stupid for each other and also absolutely stupid about it, you’ll eat this up. Young Hannibal is such an idiot. I love him.
in the gruesome do we trust by sidnihoudini - “Hannibal and Will have murder husbands mind palace sex, and Alana watches obsessively.”
I mean, it does what it says on the box. It does it SO WELL. Honk honk and, if I may add, awoooga.
show me where it hurts (I’ll lick it clean) by antiheroblake - “at 18, will inherits a ranch upon the death of his father, a man who died from a supposed family curse. at 33, will becomes prone to accidents, and the new town doctor starts to see him more than he sees his cattle.”
Accident-prone Will in the Old West HATES his sexy new doctor. You won’t believe what happens next!!!
Bring Out Your Desires by TheCosmicNSFW - “After spontaneously having to save a man's life inside an ambulance, Hannibal Lecter finds Will Graham being naughty in the bathroom. He decides that Will Graham might be a more valuable asset than he originally thought, and he convinces Will to let him work out his true desires - but is offering your mind to Hannibal on a silver platter such a great idea?”
An ongoing Hypnosis Kink fic that has absolutely inspired some of Fever Dreams. Bonus points for a fic that gave me a new kink!! Doesn’t happen every day!
The Sugar Bowl by BelladonnaWyck and raiast
Listen, ok, I like a sugar daddy fic. I’m picky about them, though!! This one involves University Will and he’s such a perfect mess.
Mine to Touch by piginapoketuesday - “Will's neck flushed with fear. Never being allowed to feed himself again. Learning to associate food with a swollen, untouched cock. Swallowing prettily and on command. His body betrayed him, and he moaned around the fork in his mouth.”
This one popped up during my exploration of the Sub Will Graham tag and woooooof, yes. Yes!!
2 weeks by EarthsickWithoutYou - “After reading the news of Will's marriage to Molly, an incarcerated Hannibal cannot bear their separation or his own jealousy any longer. He breaks out and finds Will, proposing a bet: that Will gives Hannibal two weeks to prove his love and convince Will to run away with him. If Hannibal succeeds, they will be together for life, but if he fails, he'll return to the BSHCI and never see Will again. With Hannibal's heart on the line and Will's inner moral conflict hard to hear above the roar of his longing for the killer, what choice is he going to make?”
Insanely jealous Hannibal + bone-deep yearning + “I can give you what she never could” = 🔥🔥🔥🔥😤🥵
Appetites of the Flesh by Magnetism_bind - “Will gets aroused at murder scenes. Eventually this gets noticed.”
A rec from @graciereadshannigram that also introduced me to a new kink. It’s twisted, obviously, but godDAMN it’s hot. And speaking of Gracie…
CrimsonDesires by Scifibabe - “Post-fall, Will and Hannibal discover that Alana became a bestselling erotic novelist and surprise! She based her characters on Will and Hannibal. Drunken dramatic reading of various passages ensues.”
This is absolute crack and I ate it up like ICE CREAM. A kick-your-feet delight. Watch as Will blushes so hard he nearly dies. And lest we forget my fave of her Kinktober fics…
Touched for the Very First Time by Scifibabe - “One night post-fall, Will proposes something new: letting Hannibal seduce him as if it's his first time. As Will slips into a younger, more hesitant version of himself, he’s reminded of all the things he's never let himself fully experience. With Hannibal guiding him through each step, Will discovers just how much he still craves being taken care of, in every sense.”
This blew my mind. It’s so hot. Thank you for the food!!!! Bonus mention for the Daddy Kink Fisting episode.
act on it by acheforhim - “Will is lonely and his long-distance fuckbuddy encourages him to pursue Hannibal.”
It took me MONTHS into reading fic to give omegaverse a try. I’m still fussy about it, but this one is so hot.
Graham Cam by bigfootghostdick - “In nearly every aspect of his life, Hannibal is wholly unabashed in the endeavors he chooses to take on, especially where Will is concerned. At his core, he lives outside the realm of societal norms, so in a twisted effort to learn more about the beautiful empath that has captured his attention so utterly, he decides to install hidden cameras inside Will’s home.
Will is blissfully unaware…or is he?”
Hdhagahajajbfdg.
Illicit Affairs by EarthsickWithoutYou - “AU in which Will is living a quiet, safe, but deeply conflicted life in Maine, married to Molly but secretly longing for his dark Becoming. Mired in self-hatred and despair, he seeks comfort in the church. But things get very complicated once he meets the new priest at his parish, Father Hannibal Lecter.”
I have a massive Priest Kink and this did it for me in every way possible. I love how all of EarthsickWithoutYou’s fics are so deeply religious. I’m not, but I love reading it!!
suffer does the wolf by cedarbranch - “Under extreme physical duress, a werewolf's transformation cycles may fall out of phase with the moon. Will has experienced it once before. He'd hoped he never would again. But the fall was not kind to him, and when two full moons pass afterwards with no sign of a change, something has to give.
The solution: a tight leather collar, woven through with pure silver chain to prevent unwanted transformation. Will hates the collar. But it might be different when Hannibal's the one putting it on him.”
I may be iffy on omegaverse, but I LOVE fics where Will is a werewolf. It just suits him. That plus BDSM power dynamics? SOLD
even though our love is doomed by bleakmidwinter - “Hannibal solves the mystery of time travel and he and Will decide to go into the past and take opportunities previously missed along with rewriting the regrets they each hold. Changing the past does not effect the future and they have free reign to play as the please.”
I loved this, oh how I loved this, particularly when they fuck themselves. What a treat for me!!
How to Be a Good Boy: A Guide for the Novice Werewolf by HigherMagic - “Will gets scratched by a strange dog during the full moon.”
I told you I like Will as a werewolf and this is peak!!
WHEW. I know there are more I could add and some I’ve lost track of or forgotten, but these fics changed me!! I obviously pored through the archives of a few authors - HigherMagic, emungere, MissDisoriental, thecountessolivia, EarthsickWithoutYou, Scifibabe, antiheroblake, bleakmidwinter and DBMars all kept me fed this year! 🖤 without all their incredible work I never would’ve started writing my own fic, so I’m deeply grateful.
I love this fandom and now that you can see my tastes, I am very open to your recs 🖤🖤🖤
#hannigram#hannibal#nbc hannibal#hannibal fanfiction#hannibal fic#Hannibal fic recs#hannigram fic rec#fanfic
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yapping about my drs ❕❕
okay so this was a request from one of my moots to do this so yeah!!
i have no clue where to start but i’ll talk about some of my desired realities that i shift to but probably mainly non group shift ones so personal ones 🫦
INFLUENCER
- this is one of my most recent drs i’ve been scripting and not gonna lie the main reason i’m shifting here is because of my man 🤭 he cosplays gojo... so you probably know as to why but besides the point, i was raised a nepo baby and younger sister to meghan thee stallion. i am a content creator, influencer (duh), fashion designer and i live with my s/o in the upper east side of new york🗽. i scripted that my first shift will be during christmas eve because who wouldn't wanna experience the city that never sleeps during the festive season and with your partner 😩 it’s gonna be the dream. i have a mad crazy friend group but i love them all because we’re so hot, cool and sexy. i did script that megan’s parents are still alive in my dr so let’s not worry about that. 💀 i dreamt about this dr a couple of times actually and about my s/o 😍, a couple of my friends. really looking forward to this dr.
OUTER BANKS
- i think i shifted here like twice or a couple of times but didn't realise it because i did mention to y’all about chilling with kiara and sarah, another time i did find myself surfing like literally just living the life through the waves and my ass thought it was a dream. looking back i doubt it was, in many instances to be honest. in this dr i am the sister to kiara and my s/o is pope 😌 i grew up a kook but i transitioned to a pogue when i joined the others. i’m the reason behind kiara and sarah making up and i’m close with rafe since kiara and sarah were best friends and probably would have sleepovers together. i scripted that cleo’s lesbian lmao 😭 you know why. i wiped the plot out a little and also made everyone graduate already so that school is out of the way when hunting for the gold.
AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER
yep, i have an atla dr yay! in this dr i’m the oldest sister to kiara and sokka. i’m a waterbending master and my s/o’s zuko??? enemies to lovers kinda vibe. definitely part of the gaang and i’m shifting here because atla is part of my childhood. i have the ability to also create ice and other powerful combat skills so i can't wait to experience this universe.
LEGENDS OF KORRA
i also have a lok dr because why not, i’m the little sister to korra the avatar but i’m gonna prove to everyone that i’m also capable to make a difference and i scripted that i can blood bend.. so ain't no one gonna touch me as well still being able to water bend. my s/o is bolin because he’s so underrated for real.
THE ORIGINALS
in this dr, i’m a hybrid so vampire and werewolf and an adopted mikealson. i live in new orleans and my parents are rebekah and marcel even though their not my bio parental figures because they are already dead 💀. also hopefully i can survive when dahlia comes in because i scripted that my first shift will be during season 2 😓 well shit wish me luck y’all. at least i’ll get to see baby hope aw.
FAME
i have a fame dr because i love attention 🥰 my main profession is being an actor and i’m known for my role in the vampire diaries. i also play robin in the one piece live action and act in many more projects, a nepo baby in this dr too because almost all my family members are well-known. my s/o is caleb mclaughlin? he plays lucas in stranger things and our characters in the show dated so that’s how our relationship sparked.
TWILIGHT
i love talking about drs so yeah i have a twilight dr where when i first shift, i’ll be human but i get turned by a villain in order to send the cullens (my friends) a warning like it’s “game on” so i’m gonna have to mentally prepare myself because i’m gonna basically die 😭 lmao. my s/o is jacob because i’m team jacob simple and it’s a slow burn 😀 woop woop.
SOME OTHER DRS
waiting room - i plan on permashifting here, chill, script, feel free, play with my cat, breath fresh air.
better cr - a better version of my cr and my s/o is jiung from p1harmony, i live with jenna ortega, i attend a boarding school in london, i also model.
wednesday - i’m the sister to bianca and my s/o is kent, i’m a siren and psychic medium.
fate: the winx saga - it’s so underrated i see no one shift here but it’s like the winx live action adaption on netflix, the only dr where i didn't script an s/o.
ateez - my s/o is san and i’m the only female and 9th member, main rapper, performer and maknae.
streamer - i go by lemonpie and my s/o is cory kenshin 😚.
victorious - grew up watching it and i’m andre’s sister.
soloist - i’m a k-pop soloist in this dr and my s/o is blackpink jisoo (yes I’m wlw) she’s so 😍😍😍.
singles inferno - this is a dating reality tv show but at the end of it i end up with wonho (ex. monsta x) i’m besties with song jia.
GROUP SHIFTS
not gonna lie they piss me off if they don’t put the damn effort
one piece (anime) - so far my most enjoyable one is the one piece (anime) shared dr because we talk almost everyday. anywho my s/o is sanji ahhh my vinsmoke baby! i’m the little sister to the asl brothers and my devil fruit is similar to aokoiji so ice ect. i am part of the straw hats and joined them during the alabasta arc.
kard - the k-pop co-ed group basically, me and the person barely talk so you see why i prefer my personals drs.. yeah. my s/o is enhypen’s jay 😍 and my positions are sub-rapper, sub-vocalist, producer and maknae. i’m always a maknae in k-pop group drs for some reason 😭.
the legacies - person dipped on me and didn't even fill any of their sections so! i’m poly with hope and josie, i’m a werewolf and witch.
harry potter - i’m the head girl of slytherin and my s/o’s draco, i scripted fred’s death out. also shifting to the half-blood prince era.
teen wolf - i’m a tribrid in this dr so i’m gonna be unstoppable!
the vampire diaries - a bennett witch, cousin to bonnie.
one piece (live action) - i’m a phoenix hybrid in this dr and also part of the straw hats, grew up around shanks.
private romantic - umm this dr ticks me off low-key because the person that i’m group shifting with ghosts me 😝 i didn't script an s/o for a reason i’m just gonna ditch them for jonathan daviss 💀💀💀 like imagine fumbling manon (I'm shifting as manon from katseye in this dr) i don’t want that person as my s/o anymore and like we’re “friends” here, miss me with that shit.
my hero academia - the group shift is dead bro no one is fucking talking in the group chat, one of them quit shifting, the other i was pfp matching with changed their damn pfp without telling me. script ain't finished too, they all called it a day. and y'all wonder why i don't wanna join no group shift no more.
this was lengthy but y’all asked to yap about my drs other than jujutsu kaisen which you already know about that dr and spill some tea so i did exactly that, i hope you enjoyed and this better not flop, i spent hours typing this 🥳.
@angelic-daiquiri
#shiftblr#reality shifting#shifters#shifting community#desired reality#shifting antis dni#shifting#anti shifters dni#permashifting#group shifting#shifting to desired reality#shfting motivation#dr dreams#law of assumption#shifting storytimes#jjk shifting
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Practice Makes Perfect
!!! nsfw minors dni !!!
Jacob offers to help fem!reader get her first time over with. 6k
───※ ·❆· ※───
"Ready for your big move?" Jacob huffed, dropping a particularly heavy box onto the top of another. He'd come over to help you start packing up, you had a week left.
"Mostly, yeah I think so." You grinned, knowing he was talking more about emotionally than materialistically. Your eyes scanned the bare bones of your first apartment. It had been a welcoming and safe space for a handful of years now, but the time had come to move onto bigger and better things.
"Let's drink to the beginning of the end, then, shall we?" Your dearest pal declared, toting over glasses and liquor from your fridge.
"Don't say it like that, nothings ending here." You warn, sick at the thought of there being a time limit on your friendship once a little space got in the way. Jacob sat next to you on the sofa, pouring you each a drink.
"Okay sorry, we'll toast to now, then. May we enjoy every moment." Jacob's sincerity past the silly tone he used warmed your confounded heart. So many feelings had plagued you since finding out about your big move. How excited you were for the fresh start, and how you were, in fact, dreading leaving behind everything you loved so dearly, everyone.
As you sat and drank, it was all Jacob could talk about. He asked you all kinds of questions. What the place was like you were headed to, how you may come to decorate the home you were set to buy. How you may plan to spend your time. You fawned over descriptions of some new furniture you'd had shipped to your new place. And excitedly quipped about the plans you were making for the distant future.
"I hope to just go wild. Create a whole new thing for myself, ya know? Try everything, live to the fullest." The realizations that you could become whoever you wanted most to be in an all new place had your imagination running wild since theses plans became solid.
"And what are you most nervous about?" Jacob countered, squinting as if he knew this question was one that might really challenge you.
"Oh... I don't know." You feigned a laugh, hoping your face hadn't flushed red. Because you had been increasingly nervous about one thing, fretting over the many outcomes your imagination brought to life every time you wondered how to take on this certain situation...
"Ohhhh no." Jacob grinned wickedly, shifting in his seat to face you a little more head on, pointing his half full beer in your direction. "There is something, I know when you aren't telling me things, you know?"
"Jacob, can we please drop this?" You plead, feeling like sinking in on yourself for letting your facade drop for even a second.
"All I'm saying is, if you're this nervous about something, maybe I can help?"
"I highly doubt you can help with this one, dude." You let out a mortified giggle, feeling your blush coming back tenfold.
"Hey." Jacob lowered his tone, cocking his head to catch your eye. His were serious. "You know you can tell me whatever it is-"
"Is embarrassing-"
"And I won't judge you. You know that." And you did know. Jacob had told you his own mortifying confessions, from the time he'd lost his clothes in a sketchy overnight gym, to the salacious dreams he'd had about certain unattractive costar way back before you knew him. As you reminded yourself of the story Jacob once told you of his mishap with a zipper during the first night he spent in the bed of a lady, you realized you could tell him what was on your mind.
"Okay fine." You gritted through your teeth, clasping your hands together only to anxiously wring them. Jacob stayed quiet and awaited your words.
"I'm most nervous about having sex." You declared. "Because I'm more than ready to get out there and do it, but the thought of sleeping with some stranger is appalling, and I don't know who I trust enough to ask to see me through that awfully awkward first time. And what if I never meet someone I trust enough, just-" With a disgruntled sigh, you realized you were rambling.
"You're a virgin?" Jacob's mouth twisted into a confounded frown as his head turned much like a baffled puppy dog. Your friends studying of you made you want to slip into nonexistence.
"So what?" You huffed a nervous laugh, daring to meet Jacob's piercing eyes for the first time since revealing your secret.
"It's just I thought you'd have done it, like... a lot." He shrugged. "Being so smokin' hot, and all."
"I am not hot, Elordi, and despite really being ready, I'm way too nervous to do it. That's the whole issue here." You scoffed, taking a frustrated swig of your drink.
"Uh, yeah you are. And what is there to be nervous about, anyway?" He quizzed.
"What if I do the wrong thing or say something weird or just make a complete fool of myself? Or what if I hate it? I'm ready for it. But I really am scared I will never meet the right person to deal with how in my head I am about this..."
Jacob let his gaze fall to the floor, seeming to puzzle over your words. A considerable amount of silence settled about the room before either of you spoke again. He was the one to break that silence.
"Do you... trust me?"
Your eyes widened and your stomach tied itself into a knot.
"I mean, you know I think you're attractive. So, I won't care or even notice if you make a complete fool of yourself. And we know all each other's secrets. That's trust. And if you hate it, we stop. I'm kind of the perfect candidate her, love." His confidence had blossomed with the help of the drinks you two had shared tonight. Jacob spoke with assuredness, letting no signs of awkwardness show in his daring offer. The whole thing had your head spinning.
"Jacob."
"All I'm saying is... if you want, I'm down. If not, I get it." He took a swig, the last of his third glass. "I'm just saying..." Jacob let his sharp dark eyes rake across your figure as you sat in place, trying not to squirm. You considered the expression in his gaze, clearly drinking you in, yet keeping a respectable distance.
"I'll... think about it." And you really would.
He nodded. You nodded. He got up and turned on a movie. You went searching for more to drink. As some rather boring action flick unfolded on your telly, your mind raced. You did trust Jacob. You did find him attractive too. With his angelic features and fit figure. And you wouldn't mind if this little... experiment led to something a little more serious either. But that was a wild far off distant dream. And still, all the things that mortified you about doing it with a stranger made you just as nervous to consider in the company of one of your closest friends.
"It would just be, like, educational right? Just... one friend helping out another?" You pipped up in the middle of the action movies climax.
"It would be whatever you needed or wanted it to be, doll. I'm offering my sincerest assistance." Jacob spoke easily, keeping his apparent focus on the telly screen, settled an inch away from where you sat on the sofa.
You hummed in understanding, acknowledging how both of you kept your eyes glued to the movie on your screen, and that seemed soothing. There didn't seem to be any pressure, there didn't seem to be any stakes. And as you considered your nerves, you wondered if the feeling was more that of anxious wonder. And then you realized there was a way to test this theory...
"Kiss me. Then I'll know." You thought out loud.
"Know what?"
"If you're a shitty kisser or not. And if I'd even dream of letting you sleep with me." You were drunk enough to speak without consideration. You were curious enough to take Jacob up halfway on his offer. You really hoped he wasn't a shitty kisser. You may have let him have his way with you even if he was.
With a decided shrug Jacob leaned in. His lips were soft, the gentle way he pressed his against yours was more than comfortable. You let yourself relax into pressing your own kiss back, and he took that as a signal to deepen his display of affection. And the kiss that began as a seemingly casual interaction took a different form. Jacob let his lips slowly open, encouraging yours to do the same. As your kissing grew longer and deeper, your very dear friend let his fingers reach to brush your hair back; then let his digits press against the base of your neck to pull your lips ever closer.
The gentle forcefulness Jacob commanded brought a contented sigh from your throat, and your friend's smile in response broke your interaction.
"I'll take that as a yes?" He smirked, eyes focusing on yours close up.
"It's just... a lot to consider."
He had kept his hold on you. His hand clutching the back of your head, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hair.
"Listen. I won't push this on you. It's no sweat if you decide against it. But I really would be very patience and more than glad to help you out here. That's the last I'll speak of it. Now, what are we watching next?"
You spent the rest of that evening next to Jacob in mutual silence. You watched films until your friend grew tired and called it a night. All the while your mind raced from one scenario to the next. Wondering what the worst could turn out to be, if you said yes, or no.
///
Jacob stopped by one night later, saying he was simply in the neighborhood and wondered if you'd needed any kind of help continuing to pack up. So, you put him to work, cleaning out drawers and folding clothes into suitcases. You talked a lot while working, about eachothers lives and dreams and silly things. But the conversation kept leading back to the topic of your move.
"I'll be hours away from all my family and it's not like I won't see them but I'll be so alone you know?" You confessed your fears for living in solitude and worrying over worst case scenarios.
"Hey, you'll make it just fine. You don't give yourself enough credit." Jacob insisted, moving about your room from one task to another. "Plus, I'm only one phone call away."
"I know." You whispered, peering up to your friend through your lashes, biting back a frown. You set a roll of tape and a box cutter on a nearby shelf, done with the tools for now.
"This is supposed to be a good thing, a happy thing." Jacob reminded you, shuffling to stand before you. He reached out to tilt your chin upward as if that would encourage a smile from you.
"I know." You whispered again. And with no way of knowing who leaned in first, all you knew was Jacob was kissing you again. And you relished the comfort of his affection. Nothing stopped you now from slinking a lazy arm around his neck as the guy let his grasp splay across your back.
Jacob was the first to break away, like before. But unlike then, he said nothing now. Jacob just leaned back far enough to catch your eye, as one of his brows lifted in a silent question.
"I think I might want to take you up on your offer..." You seemed to realize out loud. Maybe you had always wanted it to be him. Or maybe his encouragement had done the trick of talking you into feeling this way now. But you were never surer about being intimate with someone than now, with the way your dearest friend held you in his arms.
"Yeah?" He nodded with a furrow in his brow.
"Yes, I- if you're really sure." You stuttered.
"I am if you are." Jacob continued to nod. And after a beat, when he asked "Like, now? Right now?" You moved to nod along with him, even though your heart threatened to leap from your chest.
"Okay." He whispered. "You just need to tell me if it gets all too much, no matter what. Promise me you will."
"Yeah. I'm, like, really nervous. That's the big problem. But I trust you, so I am very sure."
"Well, I can certainly help with that." Jacob brought a hand to your hair, "I think." He lightly chuckled, pulling a face, setting your nerves at ease already.
"We'll just go very slow. How does that sound?" He asked, still keeping a hand rested on the side of your head, while his other crept down to the bend of your waist. You let out a held breath and nod assuredly.
"Okay." You flickered a smile. Jacob nodded too, his lithe grin remaining as he searched your face, his eyes landing on your lips. You hadn't fully expected him to agree to this, and you hadn't at all expected things to start right off the bat. But you couldn't complain when Jacob closed the gap and pressed a gently feather light kiss to your lips. As he did so, he tucked a bit of your hair behind your ear, and ever so slightly tightened his grip at the bend of your waist.
This resulted in your hands finding his shoulders, resting them between there and his chest- where you wondered if you were feeling your own rapid heartbeat in your palms, or his.
His lips left yours for a moment, but another feather light kiss came soon after. A couple more small steady pecks made you comfortable enough to fully relax in the hold Jacob was beginning to wrap around you; his hand moving to hold the back of your head, his other moving from the bend of your waist so his arm circled around you.
When your arms slid into a loose hold around the guy's neck again, his kisses started to ever so slightly deepen. His tongue teased your lips, his thumb caressed soothing circles against your rib cage, a delightful hum escaped his throat.
"This okay so far?" Jacob wondered in a hushed rumble, meeting your eyes between kisses. You nodded and softly smiled, waiting for the guy to continue. When he dove back in, his kisses deepened even further, his tongue pressed against yours, his hold tightening, pulling you almost entirely against himself. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, just kissing and letting hands roam against backs and through hair.
He'd barely done as much as hold you close, but you were already feeling the hot coil of desire burning low in your belly, and it was starting to spread every place else. Your every nerve was already on end.
"I could gladly do this all night." Jacob hummed, moving his kisses to pepper your jaw, and then down your neck. "But would you like to go any further? You tell me, doll."
"Sure, we can go further. I just need you to guide me through." You blew out another shaky breath, trying to release the jitters.
"I can do that. Just remember you can tell me to stop anytime for any reason." Jacob kissed your forehead and waited for you to nod in agreement. He kissed your cheek and then your lips, and let his hands begin to roam new territory. his fingers grazed under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the skin of your hips, skin that had never been touched by anyone but yourself until now. It was starting.
"Can I take this off, doll? I'll take mine off too. We'll be on the same page." Jacob sighed into your mouth, and couldn't resist kissing you between words. He left one set of fingers creeping under your shirt while the other gently tugged at the garment.
"I like that idea." You smiled, his lips brushing against yours in a phantom kiss.
He opted for his first, shedding his tee in a lazy fashion, revealing a sight you had seen before, his bare chest. But now was different from the hot summer days you'd been near the guy in such a state. Now you were free to oggel his frame entirely.
Jacob watched you watching him as he delicately took hold of the base if your shirt, and pulled it up. You lifted your arms instinctively and tried not to shiver in an anxious display of vulnerability.
The man you'd come to trust tossed aside your favorite old concert tee and brought both his hands to the bare skin of your waist. He'd see you in swimsuits and crop tops but he'd never been so close. Never had his hot skin been so easily accessible under your touch. Never had he caressed you in such a state. The pair of you stood there, holding each other in a delicate morphing clasp, for a brief moment. Your breathing synchronized before Jacob nuzzled against your neck and mumble something about how beautiful he thought you looked, and how lovely he thought it was to hold you so close like this. It was almost too sweet, his musings and the gentle way he held you. But the pecks he placed against your neck turned into something fiercer, his teeth grazing, his breathing audible. All the while, his caresses turned too, his fingers pressed possessive against your skin, one hand moving to bring your hips as close to his as possible.
You let it happen, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades and letting out a delighted sigh. You knew this was supposed to be a fun positive experience. But you felt quite unprepared for how much you were enjoying yourself.
Jacob planted another sloppy kiss to your lips, encouraging you to match his energy.
He began to drag you a few steps in another direction, never daring to break away from the kiss you were sharing, until he had to. Jacob eased onto the side of your bed, gently pulling you into his lap. He maneuvered you into a straddle you were happy to settle into, leaving no space between the two of you, as your kisses continued.
"This all okay, doll?" Jacob hoped, as his warm hand made its way toward your breasts, still covered.
"Yes Jacob," you breathed, taking your turn in moving kisses down the man's neck, not totally sure of your execution but lead by passion what could go so wrong, you wondered?
To your delight, Jacob practically melted under your bites and licks, and you were beginning to melt a little yourself, as he kneaded at your bra.
"You can take it off. If you want." You sighed, keeping up your work at his neck, moving from one side to the other.
"Oh, I've wanted to for a longer than you know." He let out a little laugh after his confession.
You sat up to meet his gaze, asking a question with one look.
"You know I've always thought you were beautiful. But I have always wondered just how much more beautiful under all your clothes." Jacob mewled, unclasping your bra after two tries. You let the thing fall away and slide down one arm to the floor, as Jacob ogled you shamelessly. Somehow the moment didn't cause you nearly as much nervousness as you'd anticipated. The way Jacob was handling this new interaction, the way he'd been handling you; caused your nerves that kept arising the settle, provoking much more excitement than you knew you were capable of feeling in a time like now.
"Even more beautiful than my imagination has been able to conceive." Jacob grinned up to you before rolling his eyes closed on his mission to cover you in kisses.
You couldn't hold back your sigh, one you'd never heard yourself make. A noise you didn't know you were capable of producing. Jacob's lips closed around one of your nipples while he let his hand attend to the other. You could feel his pants tightening beneath you, and his messy hair tangled in your fingers as you grasped at something to ground you. Things were moving at a steady pace yet seemed to be rocketing into progression much quicker than you were prepared for.
"Jacob." You reluctantly halted him, grabbing his attention away from making you feel so good. "Jacob, I don't want to stop, but can we slow down a little?" You asked in a shaky breath, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, like you'd just run a mile.
"Of course." He promised, planting closed mouth kisses across your collarbone. "Come'er."
Jacob pushed you from his lap to the middle of the bed and adjusted himself behind you, as you took in a couple deep breaths. Then his hands found your shoulders, and began to massage the tense muscle there.
"Are you still nervous? More or less? What can I do to help?"
"Still nervous. But you've been very patient so far and I can't imagine doing this with anyone else. Thank you, Jacob."
"You're practically a natural," Jacob purred in your ear, keeping up his work on your shoulders. You began to feel more at ease under his touch, and more ecstatic by his words and the tone of his voice. "Nothing to be nervous about."
Your hum gave him a green light to follow his hands with his lips, kissing the trail of his massaging.
He soon let his hands start to wander, keeping his face in the crook of your neck as his hands trailed lightly across your chest and tummy, stalling for a brief second at the hem of your pants before ghosting back up to brush at your already exposed skin.
You flipped around crawling into a position closer, moving to undo the button of his pants.
"You sure?" Jacob asked quickly, waiting for you to nod before shedding the trousers as lazily as he removed his shirt.
"Want me to do yours?" He asked, not wondering if you'd rather handle the task, but if you were ready for the next step to be initiated at all. You told him you were ready, looking right in the guy's hooded deep brown eyes.
Jacob gently pushed you against the stack of pillows at the head of your bed. For one small moment, you paused to look at each other and smile. And then your friend shifted and reached for the button of your trousers. You watched as he hooked a couple fingers in the hem to peel the fabric away from your body, his eyes drinking in every newly exposed inch of you. You helped kicked away the pants, as Jacob reached to pull you back into his lap. In one swift move, you pushed him back into the pillows. You relished having the boy pinned below you, as you closed in for another kiss.
His hands traced across the expanses of your skin, his warm form settled beneath yours in the very best ways. You began to let your fingers trace patterns across his chest, feeling the hammer of his heart. Now both clad in nothing but underwear, the thin fabric allowed for you to feel more exactly of how worked up you'd gotten the boy.
You weren't nervous now to roll your hips against his. Or even if you might've been, they seemed to move on their own accord, your body seeking to satisfy its growing desires. Your rocking against the man's lap grew quietly more confident, and in the matter of a couple grinds you had Jacob whimpering against your lips.
Jacob gently pushed you from his lap, moving to hover over you in turn. "Okay?" He asked more succinctly but paused and watched for your confirmation just as patiently as every time before. And right as you began to nod, Jacob pressed his clothed hips against yours, encouraging your legs to open a little wider to make space for him. He kept his eyes sharply focused on yours, as he kept grinding, palming at your breast all the while. You were overcome, the coil in your belly tightening, and you hadn't even gotten to the good part.
His hand that had been working at your breast traveled downward, stalling near the hem of your underwear. Just as Jacob opened his mouth to ask if his next move was allowed, you were quicker. You grabbed his forearm and gently pushed his hand past the fabric of your undergarment, immediately glad for it.
His fingers found their way gently to your heat, giving subtle barely there caresses to the part of you that was most sensitive. Your toes curled and your heart stalled as he touched you with such tender intention. The pair of you managed to settle side by side, and without discussion, you reached to move Jacobs fingers to the spot he'd been nearly close to finding. The feeling that followed sent sparks through your nervous system, and your own hand shot out toward Jacob's underwear in response. You didn't ask, you simply slid your digits up and down the clothed length of your friend's crotch, relishing the shuttered breaths he released as you did so. The pair of you kept this up for a short moment, kissing when you weren't stealing each others breath away.
"Can we get to the part where you fuck me?" You sighed, worried that if you didn't do so soon, in the midst of your highest confidence, you'd lose the nerve. Jacob let out a quiet chuckle as he nodded, moving to shed the last of both of your clothes. Gentle as ever, he took as much time with this process as ever, making you more at ease and anxious for the next step all the same.
"Are you sure?" Jacob worried, settling between your legs. You kept one hand against his face and the other set of your fingers grasping his shoulder. You nodded quickly between shaky breaths, your nerves heightening slightly at the realization this was happening. But then Jacob shook his head. "I'm not doing anything until you relax, doll."
You were fully aware of your uneven breathing and the tensing of your body, due to the anxiousness that threatened to swallow you whole. You wanted this, you really did. But that didn't stop your nervous system from going a bit haywire during such an unprecedented situation.
"Relax." Jacob repeated. He petted your hair back and smoothed a hand across your shoulder, attempting to ease the tension you held there. You tried your best to settle a bit more comfortably against the sheets as the guy spoke up again. "Take like four deep breaths, and relax." Jacob guided you through his desired number of focused inhales, taking them in just as deeply himself. You closed your eyes during the last couple and felt yourself truly a little more at ease by way of Jacob's help and kind focus. You watched the guy breath out same as you, the fourth time, and after a beat he gave you a subtle nod.
"Good, that's better. Now, are you super sure?" He prompted, letting his hands hold you firmly against him, not daring to move until you gave your full, more at ease, confirmation. When you said yes with a smile, Jacob smiled too, and proceeded to line his hips up with yours.
As he pressed into you slow and steady, he cooed in your ear. Mumbling pet names and sweet encouragements about how good you'd already made him feel. Between his saccharine words and the pressure between your legs, you were done for.
Your breathing quickened all too soon but wasn't as shaky and uneven as before. Your skin burned with want. Your legs spread far as they could. He placed a loving hand against your temple, and you gripped his wrist as he began to move his hips in a sinfully slow manner.
The press of his lips to your throat was made more intimate by the grazing of his teeth there too. The speed at which he rocked into you began to increase, your heart rate following suit. everything felt better than you could've even fathomed. You were glad you did this with someone you knew and trusted. Someone whose hands were familiar to at least some parts of your own body and whose voice was welcomed in your ear. So glad you were doing this with someone you'd let do it all over again. So glad you're doing this with Jacob.
"You're doing so good, so good, nothing to be nervous about." The last word of his sentence was abruptly cut off by a growl the man couldn't seem to hold back.
Jacob was relentless now, pulling your hips against his as he rocked so hard against you, the bed frame kept hitting the wall. You couldn't imagine feeling much better than this, but then he asked if you were close to reaching your breaking point. You realized you'd never known before, and you really weren't sure now. "I don't know." You admitted with a twinge of worry. "It feels so good, Jacob, but I-I don't know." A sigh escaped your lips as he hit a certain spot within you. He grumbled encouragement in your ear, saying it was okay that you didn't know, and kept up his efforts.
"But I can't hold back much longer, I'm sorry." Jacob cried, his movements becoming sloppy, still heavenly though. It was your turn to encourage him, and let him know it was okay to come undone. Jacob was a goner soon after your brief pep talk, pulling himself from you as his seed spilled across your stomach. As Jacob caught his breath, he promised to go hunting for a towel to clean you up as you propped yourself on your elbows.
"Is it disappointing that I didn't come?" You worried, sitting up a little, catching your own breath. Jacob smirked, and petted back your hair, settling a little closer to you.
"I'm just glad you didn't fake it. Sometimes it just takes practice to know how to make it happen... to find out what you like, ya know?"
"Yeah, I s'pose." You contemplated, a bit cross that it hadn't happened, because it was half the reason you were eager to get this first time sorted out, so you could know how to handle yourself. Jacob had spotted a towel a few steps from your bedside, and was quick to retrieve it. And as he sweetly took to cleaning up the mess he'd made about you, he spoke up.
"You know, I never said our little educational experiment was over..." Jacob was smug, but turned up a brow to nod seriously your way and in a moment that made your cheeks flush even still after everything that had just occurred.
"Would... would you?"
Jacob said nothing. He simply dove back in to kiss you again, with more passion than ever, you thought. The man pressed you to lean against the pillows once again, as his fingers danced lower and lower down your abdomen.
"You seemed to like when I did this." Jacob cooed, letting his fingers ghost over your heat for the second time that evening, grazing a certain spot you'd once helped him find. You sucked in a breath at the feeling, giving Jacob the green light to proceed with more vigor. He pressed his fingers against you with more certainty, swirling more meaningful circles in that one spot. Jacob watched as you bit your lips together, struggling to keep an undignified moan from bursting from your chest.
"Think I must be doing something right." You friend boasted, keeping up the motions he'd settled into perfectly making. All the while, he moved to kiss you. His mouth, you were certain, must've left marks peppered across you skin as his lips moved from your neck to your throat, to your breasts and down further and further and further.
Once his lips ghosted across your core, you knew you were done for. The man let his tongue replace his fingers, as his digits moved to slide inside of you. His hair tickled your thighs, and every sensation added up together was nearly too much to process.
You thought Jacob's hands were magical, his lips and tongue were mind blowing. His warm breath, his teeth grazing, it was all more intense than you'd though it could've been. Your back arched, your hips rolled, and Jacob shouldered closer, putting as much vigor into this process as he could manage. Now, you suddenly seemed to understand the answer to his previous statement. You were close, now. You had to be. Your every sense buzzed and all you felt was increasing ecstasy.
You couldn't begin to hold back your cries of pleasure now, as Jacob worked you into a frenzy. He kept up his efforts until your legs shook, and only when you nudged his head gently away from it's latch onto your lower half, did he cease.
"I would ask if you enjoyed that but I think I know the answer." Jacob grinned, crawling to lay at your side. You laid in a daze, wondering how someone could've gotten that reaction from you. Of course it was Jacob who had.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and for no good reason at all, you both burst into a fit of laughter. Exhausted giggles, that died down when a cough alerted you to how dry your throat had become from all the harsh breathing you'd done.
Jacob insisted on taking care of you, finding water for the pair of you to drink and escorting you to the shower. You pulled him in with you, and talked about silly things as you washed up, comfortable as before in your friendship.
"Hey, thank you. I really was so scared to go through all that. But you made it easy. You made it fun." You confessed, as Jacob wrapped a towel around your frame. He ran his hands up and down your arms, warming you from the chill of the room.
"Thank you for trusting me. You'll never know how much of an honour it was, really." Jacob nodded sincerely, before pulling you into an embrace. He went home shortly afterward, promising to see you soon, and joking that he'd more than happily help you practice again, anytime. You laughed along with him, and secretly hopped he wasn't joking.
///
After he left, sleeping with Jacob constantly played back in your mind. The phantom feeling of his body lingered about your skin. You thought of little else than your dear friend, as you moved through the motions of the next day. So, to remedy your fever for the lad, you called him and asked about meeting up for dinner. He responded quickly insisting he'd love to, and that he would swing by your place a little later on. Time dragged on as you counted the minutes until he arrived.
When the knock came at your door, you opened it with perhaps too much excitement. Neither of you said anything, and a brief moment of silence filled the space between you.
"It's still a little early for dinner." You schemed. Jacob quirked a brow, stepping in as you stepped back to make room for him. He shut the door behind himself, as you crossed your fingers behind your back... "Maybe... to kill time, we could do what we did the other night?" You hoped, casting a hopeful glare up to the man before you. And before you even finished your sentence, he reached out to pull you closer, crashing his lips against yours once you'd finished talking.
It wasn't long until he had you lifted from the ground in his arms, your legs wrapped around his torso as he moved to throw you on the sofa.
"You do have a lot still to learn." Jacob smirked, untying the joggers that hugged your hips.
"But we are eating later." You demanded, craving a certain local restaurant.
"Well, I'm not waiting till later." Jacob growled, smiling as he lowered himself between your legs right away. The night spiraled into a mess of moans that were familiar to you now. When the pair of you were spent, you cleaned up and went to dinner, and then parted your separate ways.
After that night, there were four days until you were set to move away. And Jacob showed up at your door every evening with a different excuse each time.
He'd wanted to see the newest horror film in the local theater. You left halfway through to fuck in your car. Jacob mentioned that practice made perfect, and he was more than happy to help you hone this craft. You'd wanted to throw a party with all your friends before summer sent you each different way's. A whole soiree was planned in which you and Jacob skipped out early on; because the broom closet you'd snuck into wasn't giving either of you enough space to work with, and you'd both concluded this may be the last chance you got to really participate in your new found hobby.
But the next day, he found his way over all the while. And neither of you had to ask. It was only a matter of time before he had you pinned against the bathroom counter, and you'd never been happier. Just as you began reaching your climax, Jacob spoke up between sighs, "I don't want you to leave."
"Then come with me."
"What?"
"Come with me." You manage to get out the words before losing all composure. He followed close behind. But you both knew finding release together wasn't what you meant when you asked him to come along.
As you both caught your breath, Jacob brushed your hair back, and let his eyes consider all of your features. As he took too long to respond, you decided to draw a bath, and invited him to settle among the bubbles with you, where you brought up your question one more time.
"We've had lot's of practice, you know." You settled across from the man you'd come to know better than you ever expected. "Maybe we can go pro. Make it official?" You watched Jacob watch you, as you spoke.
"Was this your plan the whole time? You're twisted way of getting me to fall for you?"
"No, I genuinely just wanted your help that one night. Then it turned into many many nights. And now I don't want to ever have to worry about practicing with anyone but you."
And so after a few more rounds of questions of answers, it was decided. Jacob would follow you to a new town to live a new life. But with your oldest friend at your side and under shared sheets, you weren't so nervous about all the new things you would get to encounter, together.
───※ ·❆· ※───
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NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader
Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.
Word Count: 5,334 words
Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd
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You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring.
The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them.
Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this.
Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.
“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.
“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you.
Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.
"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."
But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh.
"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me.
“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair.
“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”
God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed.
The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point.
“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.
“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.”
“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.
“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony.
It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah.
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Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd.
Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost.
“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out.
“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor.
“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?”
“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.
“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours.
“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you.
“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring.
You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good.
“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”
Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’?
“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs.
“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction.
“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps.
“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.”
“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”
“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man.
“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath.
“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”
“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”
Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out.
“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”
“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.”
Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him.
The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him.
“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine.
“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again.
“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.”
Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you.
“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you.
You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.
“What’s there to lose?”
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You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds.
Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments.
Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨
RunTao: phony photos
Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!
H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right
It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them.
The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting.
Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗
Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies.
You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-
The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink.
You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”
“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it.
“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar.
“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful.
“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.
“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff.
“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead
“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand.
You’re here for Jake anyways.
“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs.
“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”
True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile.
“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up.
“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you.
“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin.
“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back.
“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?”
“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you.
“You were practically eye-fucking him.”
“Was not.”
“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time.
“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.”
Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.”
The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink.
“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this.
You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less.
It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums.
Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones.
Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater.
With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you.
“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins.
“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet.
It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character.
How many women had actually made it past the outside?
The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket.
“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head.
“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building.
The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night.
“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically.
“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head.
“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.”
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Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand.
“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin.
“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing.
“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up.
“I am not eating your taco!”
“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction. One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught.
“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos.
“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.”
With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal.
The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car.
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Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod.
The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway.
It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks.
“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend.
“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.
A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation.
“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you.
“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind.
“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs.
“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things.
“Jake, I’m-”
“You’re staying with me.”
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#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun fic#top gun fanfiction#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin#hangman fanfiction#hangman fanfic#hangman x reader#hangman
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Roommates? (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)
Synopsis: You move into Mel's spare room
Words: 3.6k
Warnings: praise kink if you squint, swearing, mentions of alcohol
AN: Written after 3x07.
You groaned as you dropped into your seat in the break room, not hungry for the lunch you’d packed for yourself. Burying your head in your hands, you did your best to try not to think about the email you’d just received. It was hard when your stress was becoming all encompassing after weeks of it.
“What going on with you?”
You groaned again, even when you felt the brush of an arm against yours. The floral scent you’d grown accustomed to over the last few years wafted towards you. Melissa. Your closest friend at the school, and the person you’d been pining after for so long you’d lost any self respect you might have had.
“That place I was going to move into fell through,” you said, “I feel like I’ve seen every spare room in this city and there is no where to live.”
You peeked at her from between your fingers, hating to sound so whiny but knowing that your stress levels had reached breaking point. She was looking at you with a raised eyebrow and an incredulous look. You sighed, sitting up properly under her watchful gaze.
“You know Jacob’s looking for a place too,” Gregory said from the other table.
“I know,” you groaned, “he suggested we look for a place together and I can’t commit to living and working with that man. He once tried to rap at me about the Martin Luther King Jr and I can’t have that in my home.”
“I get that,” Gregory replied, “why are you even looking for a new place to live? Your place is nice.”
“My roommate keeps watching me when I sleep. Sometimes I wake up and she’s standing at the end of my bed just staring at me. It freaks me out.”
“Well hey, I’m thinking of renting out my spare room. Would you be interested, hon?”
You hadn’t expected Melissa to say that.
“Really?”
She gave you one of those small smiles that you’d never seen her give another person. Your heart fluttered and you found your cheeks heating up.
“Really,” she said, “you can pay rent, right?”
“Yeah, of course,” you replied.
“You can move in this weekend,” she said.
Come Saturday, your things were in boxes and bags, and you had a spring in your step. You were humming to yourself as you packed up your car, your entire life filling the seats and the trunk. You took one last look at the building, sighed, then got in your car and drove to the next chapter of your life.
It wasn’t until you were standing in front of the door that the reality of what you were about to do crashed into you. Living with Melissa. Being in her space all the time. Existing in close proximity. She was going to see you first thing in the morning. You were going to see her late at night.
Your crush was going to either get so much worse or dissipate when you saw all of her annoying habits.
The door opened before you could knock, revealing the red head who starred in so many of your dreams. You blinked, rearing back, not having expected her to suddenly appear. Her lips quirked up, hand snapping out to grasp you around the elbow before you could fall backwards.
“Were you planning on knocking or do you wanna live on my front step?” she asked.
“ I was… just about to… can you help with my boxes?” you asked instead, switching tracks without having to explain yourself.
“Sure, hon,” she chuckled, slipping past you.
Watching her lift your heavy boxes set off something primal in you. You followed behind her, your own arms full of your stuff. She led you up the stairs and into her spare bedroom, placing the boxes down on the made up bed.
“Well, here you are. Bed, dresser, the bathroom is down the hall. You can have a a shelf in the fridge. Your key is just there. Let me know if you need anything else,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Do you need help with the rest of your stuff?” she asked.
“Only if you want to. I can do it myself. It’s no bother.” You had no idea why you were saying no. You felt flustered. You always felt a bit flustered around her.
“Come on, hon,” she said, giving you an indulgent smile, “the sooner we start the sooner we’ll be done.”
She left you alone after pttling the last of the boxes into your room, leaving you to unpack and settle in. Sorting your clothes into colours helped to ease your thoughts, the mindless work turning your head empty. It calmed you, getting your life in order so you could get your thoughts in order.
It wasn’t going to be so bad living with Melissa. She was being nice to you which was more than Jacob or Janine had been able to say after their cooking lesson with her. Accommodating was the word. She was almost going out of her way to be nice.
And most importantly you could keep your crush to yourself without ruining it all.
That night, she made dinner, offering you some and then curled up on the couch with a glass of wine. You were hesitant about joining her, hovering until she rolled her eyes and tugged you to sit beside her.
But it was easy to fall into a routine with her. Surprisingly easy. So easy that you didn’t even notice until a few weeks in.
Sitting at the table on a Wednesday night, doing the puzzle you’d started over the weekend, you listened to her hum in the kitchen. Something was bubbling on the stove top, the smell mouth watering. You looked up as fingers pushed a piece towards you.
“Thanks,” you said, looking up at her.
She was already smiling at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. It was an instinctual response. You couldn’t help it when it came to Mel.
“You hungry?” she asked.
“Always,” you replied, knowing it was the answer she wanted.
“C’mon then, hon, make some room. Can’t have you starving before you finish that patch of sky,” she said.
“You’re teasing but I saw you get excited when you finished the boat,” you said, clearing your pieces away from one end of the table.
Sitting across from her, the lights soft and warm, there was always something a little romantic to the feeling. Of course, you were sure it was all in your head but you couldn’t help but enjoy it, just a little, more than you should. She would look at you, those twinkling green eyes making you flush, and her smile had butterflies erupting in your stomach.
Still, every night felt like domestic bliss. Coming home with her, in the bubble of her house, the quiet night pressing in on the window, it was the kind of life you hadn’t known you’d been missing.
“You’re a goddess in the kitchen,” you said.
She’d waited for you to try her food, just as she always did before beginning to eat her own meal. Her foot brushed against yours under the table, making you jump. She chuckled, doing it again and you felt your cheeks heat and your heart stumble over itself.
Some days it almost felt like she was flirting with you.
“You’re sweet, hon,” she said.
You found your foot brushing against hers again, emboldened by her bashful response. Those green eyes flicked up to you, something twinkling in their depths. You weren’t sure how you looked but you were worried you’d shown your hand to her.
Dropping your foot back to the floor, you averted your gaze down to the plate of pasta she’d laid down in front of you. Her foot nudged yours before resting against it, length to length, the warmth of her skin seeping into yours.
She kept silent the rest of the meal, following your lead. You weren’t sure you could say anything, not with her foot against yours. Certainly not if she was watching you.
You remained silent as you cleared the table once she was done. Standing shoulder to shoulder at the sink, you did the washing up together, working in companionable tandem. You were so in tune with one another after living together for those few weeks, working together came without flaws.
“Are you gonna be watching our show tonight?” she asked into the silence.
You didn’t say no.
Sitting beside her on the sofa had always been trouble for you. Shoulder to shoulder, lit by nothing but the flickering screen, sharing a bowl of popcorn until your hands brushed together, it had always been a specific type of torture for you. The air always felt electric to you, and you knew it didn’t for her.
Except this night her head fell to your shoulder and her body curled towards yours. You froze until she admonished you, doing your best to relax your muscles. And there you stayed until she went to bed, feeling as if you had entered some kind of parallel universe.
Thursday night you’d put the entire odd experience behind you. She hadn’t mentioned it over breakfast or on the car ride over to school. On the ride back home she’d sung along to the radio, keeping her hands and feet to herself. You’d thought it was done. You thought you wouldn’t be tortured anymore.
But after you’d changed out of your school clothes and into something more comfortable, a knock sounded on your door. Opening the door, you found her in the hall, wet hair clinging to the skin of her neck, a towel wrapped around her body. You stumbled back a step, blinking at the vision before you.
“Um…” was all you managed to say.
“Have you seen my Eagles hoodie?” she asked.
“No,” you replied faintly, doing your best to not let your eyes wander further south than her chin.
“You sure? Because I can’t find it,” she said.
“Did you check in the washing?” you asked, hoping that would send her away.
“I thought you mighta borrowed it,” she said, lips tipping up into a small smirk, “you always seem to like it when I wear it. Can’t keep your hands off me.”
You felt your cheeks heat even further, deeper, almost uncomfortably. You looked down at your feet, terrified to be caught staring at her. You didn’t need to come across as a creep to her, ruining your friendship completely and irrevocably.
“I’m just teasing, hon,” she said, shoving your shoulder, “it’s probably in the wash.”
You were left staring at her retreating back as she left you be with your swirling thoughts and thundering heart, breathless from the image of all that skin on display. You were slow to close your door, leaning back against it as you breathed out a long sigh. Pressing a hand to your chest, you could feel the beating of your heart against your skin, practically bursting from your body.
The after image of her in the towel stayed in your mind until you could bring yourself to venture downstairs.
She was standing at the hob, stirring something on the stove, dressed in the familiar grey hoodie she’d been looking for. You blinked then stepped further in. She turned, smiling at you over her shoulder.
“Wanna help me out here?” she asked, seeming not bothered by the interaction upstairs.
“Sure,” you said, wanting to move past it too. Clearly, it hadn’t effected her the way it had effected you.
“Can you keep stirring this for me? I gotta start on the chopping,” she said.
“Sure,” you said again.
Your fingers brushed over hers as you took the wooden spoon from her. She paused a moment, eyes roving over your face. You held your breath, frozen, waiting, wondering what she was thinking.
“Keep stirring, hon,” she whispered, hand guiding yours, the skin of her palm warm against yours.
Slipping away, you kept your eyes on the pot, not wanting her to see the way you were beginning to come undone. One day you could brush off as weird, two made you wonder what was going on.
A warm hand landed on your hip, practically burning through the fabric of your leggings. A soft chin rested on your shoulder, looking over you as you continued stirring. You didn’t know what to do but keep stirring. If you focused on the warmth and the soft body brushing against your back you might melt into a puddle of goo.
“Good job, hon,” she murmured, lips brushing your earlobe.
A small squeak came from your parted lips and her throaty chuckle only made you feel as if you were crumbling in her arms. Those hands on your hips gently pushed you out of the way, fingers plucking the spoon from your hand.
“Go on, go finish that patch of sky. I can finish up here,” she said, sounding as if she had no idea the turmoil she was causing you.
You simply nodded and wandered back to the dining table. You sat, staring at the pieces, trying to reel your thoughts back in. A finger absently ran along the sides of the puzzle, feeling the gaps for the missing pieces. It wasn’t that Melissa wasn’t tactile, sometimes she could be, but this whole thing was something more. A step further.
A little closer to the kind of relationship you wanted with her.
That night she curled up against you again, cheek resting on your shoulder in the flickering light of the tv, hand resting on the thigh hers was resting against. You spent the entire time holding your breath until she slipped away to her room.
Friday left you on tenterhooks. Once again she was normal right up until your return home after a day at school. You were considering retreating into your room and not emerging for the rest of the night. It felt as if she was playing a game with you and you hadn’t been informed of the rules.
And yet you kind of revelled in the attention, if only because it might be your only chance to pretend she wanted you the way you wanted her.
You weren’t given the chance to make the choice for yourself.
A knock on the sounded on your bedroom door once again. You flung on a shirt, covering up as best you could while in the middle of changing out of your work clothes. Pulling open the door, you looked down, finding yourself in one of the lacy camisoles you’d been trying on last weekend when going out with friends for a drink. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to contain the groan you wanted to release. When you opened your eyes it was to find a smirk and sparkling green eyes turned in your direction.
“I was coming to offer you a glass of wine but it looks like you might be going out,” she said.
Her eyes swept down your body and if you were a betting person, you thought her gaze might have lingered on the cleavage on display. You found your back arching, just a moment, until her eyes swept back to yours and her smirk only deepened.
“Come on down, hon. You ain’t going anywhere in those sweat pants,” she said.
“I’ll take that wine,” you said, needing to drown your embarrassment in something.
You trailed behind her down the stairs into the kitchen. It truly was the heart of the home in Melissa’s house. You hoisted yourself onto a bench as she poured the wine. As she’d pointed out, there was no chance you were about to head out in the sweats you were wearing, even if the lacy cami on the top was more dressed up than was normal for slouching around the house on a Friday night.
When she turned back around, her eyes seemed to light up. She sauntered towards you, both hands holding glasses of red wine. Offering you one, she drew closer. You took a deep drink, needing it more and more as she took another step closer to you. Her thumb came up, running along your lower lip, wiping away a drop of wine before she sucked it into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with you.
“Mel.” You felt as if you’d woken up into a dream, breathless and unsure of what you could do.
“Yes, hon?” Her voice had turned so husky you weren’t sure you were existing in real life anymore.
When you didn’t reply she took one last step forward, right between your thighs. One hand ran up your leg making fire lick through your veins and your cheeks heat under her gaze. Her lips ticked up into a smirk again, seeming to enjoy the trouble you were having at forming a sentence.
“What are you doing?” you finally managed to get out in a whisper.
“Aren’t you enjoying it?” she asked.
“I don’t…” It came out strangled, “Mel, please.”
“I’m trying to seduce you, hon,” she said, “is it working?”
You nodded, not sure you were capable of forming words. Just the thought she was trying to seduce was enough to send you into a coma. You hadn’t thought she would ever look at you the way you looked at her.
“C’mon, hon. You can do better than that. Say it.”
“It’s working,” you whispered, not sure you could deny her anything in this moment.
“Good girl.”
She drew ever closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You froze, eyes fluttering shut, waiting to see what she was going to do. A brush of lips, a soft sigh, fingers clenching around your thigh. You barely had the chance to enjoy it before she was stepping back from you. The whimper that came from you was embarrassing but the look on her face when you opened your eyes was smug.
“Mel,” you said again, not sure there were any words other than her anymore.
“Do you know the hell you’ve put me through since moving in? You’re so fucking hot and I don’t think you even know it. You’re the exact woman my Nonna warned my cousin Vinny about,” she said, almost groaning.
“I haven’t been doing anything,” you said, addressing the only thing you could.
“Parading around in your tight leggings and these little tops and those fucking shorts in the morning. And when you’re thinking about something your tongue pokes out and then all I can think about is reaching over and kissing you. Also did you know you hum to yourself when you think no one’s around. Fuck, when I see you in the kitchen humming and dancing I just want to pin you to the closest surface and fuck you until you can’t do anything but say my name.”
You weren’t sure you had a good response.
“Yeah but you wear tight trousers pretty much every day at work,” was your only come back.
“But you weren’t looking at me in them and thinking what it would feel like to have my legs wrapped around you,” she replied as if it was the most natural answer in the world.
“I fucking was,” you snapped, at the end of your rope. She’d been playing with you long enough, “christ sake, Mel. I’ve been thinking about you since the first time we met. You’re literally the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think you were interested.”
“Hon, I let you move into my house. What part of that says I’m not interested?” she demanded.
“I don’t know,” you said, sounding angrier than you expected, “you might have just been trying to be a good friend.”
“Then let me be very clear.” She took a step back between your legs again, “I am very interested in you.”
You legs tightened around her hips, holding her in place as you lent forward. Your lips ghosted over hers and you were surprised by the noise that came from her. It was whiny and needy and she was straining towards you. You chuckled, drawing back.
“If you plan on seducing me, I expect to be wined and dined,” you said, “no more fooling around until you put some effort in and prove I’m worth it.”
“You fucking brat,” she laughed, a hand curling around the back of your neck to pull you closer.
She kissed you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, sending your thoughts spiralling away from you. Your knees tightened on her hips, your hands cupping her cheeks, indulging her for long enough to let her think she’d gotten her way. You nipped at her lower lip before drawing away.
“Wining and dining, Mel. I’m not some common whore,” you said, “I deserve romance.”
“There’s your wine,” she said, shoving the glass back into your hands, “I’ll make a start on dinner.”
You bit down on your lip, watching her slam down a knife on the cutting board, grumbling under her breath, trying to hold in a grin. The glare she gave you broke the flood gates as giggles tumbled from your lips.
“You keep on like this and I’ll stop seducing you,” she threatened.
“You stop and I’ll wear those shorts you like all weekend,” you retaliated.
You caught her arm, drawing her in for another kiss, just enough to remind her what was waiting. She softened, gently squeezing your leg before going back to cooking. You watched her, finding yourself falling more and more for her, the anticipation delicious, the woman beautiful.
And maybe moving into her home was the best thing to ever happen to you.
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Coincidence?
Pairing : Jacob Black x Shifter!reader
Summary : readers a shifter from another pack and they meet Jacob while patrolling the same area, and it continues from there 😝
Word count : 1,489
You’re another shifter, like the others, you’re a wolf, your fur a pretty color of white mixed with black, like a husky.
The pack you’re in is mainly boys, boys seem to shift more then girls do, from what you’ve seen, you’re the only girl in your pack, despite the other girls around that have been imprinted on by other members of the pack, oh how lucky they must be.
What was it like to imprint? That thought was always in your head, honestly, you LOVE romance and anything that comes along with it, it’s always been a little dream of yours to find the man,— or women of your dreams, utterly devoted to you while you reciprocated their feelings, living happily ever after with them, but then again.. you knew if they weren’t a shifter, you’d be putting a heavy burden on them with keeping the secret of shifters and vampires, and if they were a shifter, constant worry would be present everytime they were out, since they wouldn’t be part of your pack, nobody here is your imprint.
Maybe love wasn’t the best idea for shifters, even then, you adored it with your whole entire hesrt, always reading and/or watching romance related things, or just babbling about it, asking the imprintees what it was like, only to be envious, not of their life! But that they had someone to love them with that love being reciprocated.
And one day, Isaac, the alpha of your pack, advised you and a few others patrol in a nearby, yet new area. It was.. Forks? Odd. Your pack mainly hangs around Port Angeles.
“Forks has a smaller population of people, it’s a great place for vampires to lay low. So i suggest we stakeout around that area, we’ll get into groups, one goes, one remains here.”
Isaac explained. His voice serious as usual, despite him being the aloha, we got along really well, he can be a great guy when he’s not in Alpha mode, everyone sees him as a father, in a way.
You, James, and Eric, two other pack members, were told to go and patrol around Forks. Honestly, you were a bit excited! It’s a new area and even while patrolling, you got to explore a whole new area! And if you’re lucky, maybe you could window shop, not in wolf form of course, but just to get a sense of things around there, who knows what’ll happen?
Soon, you and the other two shifters were on your way down to Forks, it didn’t take very long considering your guys’re giant wolves and you have incredible speed, your journey there will definitely take less then an hour.
During the run, you guys spoke through your telepathy, as usual.
“I’ll race ya to.. uhm..”
Eric thought.
“You wanna race but don’t even know to where?”
James asked, obviously amused by his antics,
“I’m working on it!“
Eric said defensively.
“ we can race to uhh.. you see that cabin? To there!”
“A cabin? Doesn’t that mean there’s humans? We can’t let them see us.”
You thought.
“No one’s home, i can’t smell a single human around, you joining the race, Y/N?”
Eric asked, despite his words of reassurance, it was still risky, what if there was someone nearby and we just didn’t know?
“Nah, you two go Head, meet back here once patrol is done?”
You asked
“Yeah.”
Both boys said, before they started their countdown and were off to do who knows what, even during patrol, they were one of the most unserious duos ever, especially since Isaac isn’t around; they’re bound to goof off.
You let out an internal sigh, you just decided to wander, it’s technically still patrolling, right? You weren’t doing anything wrong.
Though, while patrolling, you began to smell another wolf? Maybe it was just Eric or James, but.. they smelt.. different.
A wolf from another pack maybe, they weren’t a threat, right? You’re both shifters, you have the same purpose, kill vampires, why’re you so worried about conflict?? Theres no harm in passing another wolf, it’s just a short glance and then you’re off.
But when you gazed into their eyes…
It was like you’d seen the sun for the first time, and suddenly, you saw a whole future with this wolf, it was.. a boy. You saw visions of the two of you together, happily. It was like he was now your whole life, your world, your everything, he was the only thing that mattered to you, suddenly, you wanted to he with him 24/7, be by his side, for eternity, in the vision you saw how he looked, god, he was GORGEOUS.
Was this imprinting?
You snapped out of whatever trans you were in when the wolf turned his gaze away, only to look right back at you, did he experience the same visions and feelings as you? He had to! He’s a wolf too, he must’ve imprinted too, if your theories are correct.
Should you approach?
You put one paw out, hesitant, did he want you closer?
He seemed to notice, since he came to you, he was a bit bigger then you were, that was fine! But OH MY GOSHH YOU FINALLY MET YOUR IMPRINTEE!!! You were thrilled!!
As he got closer, his russet brown fur tingled your nosecausing a sneeze and for you to shake your head, he let out a small whine, as if apologizing for getting too close, as well as taking a step back.
You quickly moved one step forward, as if saying “no it’s fine, stay close.”
He didn’t seem to mind, your head under his as he leaned down, sniffing you, he’s never seen you around here before, you must be from somewhere else, but where? Would you have to leave soon…?
Despite just meeting, you both felt like you’ve known each other for years, you’re already so comfortable with him, as he was with you.
After some time, you two laid on a nearby meadow, you on your stomach while he was next to you, extremely close sith his body covering yours from his side of view, you’d only see one wolf if you were looking from his side.
You felt comfortable and at peace with him being here, you’d only didn’t want to leave, you wanted to stay with him for however long you could.
But then, you heard howling, it was from your pack. You looked over at him with a saddened look, letting out a whine, it was time for you to go.
He seemed awfully sad too, he didn’t want you to go, but he knew you had to, giving you a lick on the head, he let you go.
You ran off to Eric and James, meeting them at your spot.
“Guys! I found ky imprintee!”
You thought as you got in your telepathy reach.
“For real? Who??”
Both asked in sync
“It’s a wolf boy from another tribe! Sucks he lives somewhat far from us though.. i wanna see him again!!”
You whined
“‘Course you do, you get attached so easily, imprint ir not.”
Eric teased
“Shut up!!”
And then on, you went back to Port Angeles, reporting back to Isaac that there was no vampires around there, and that you had imprinted.. but even so, Isaac had made you stay in Port Angeles just in case, since there have been more Disappearances and/or unexplained murders.
Despite that, you missed that wolf SO BADLY, he was in your head 24/7, even while patrolling, the rest of your pack was starting to get sick of it.
Around a week passed, and Isaac made an announcement.
“We will be working with another pack due to the overwhelming amount of vampires being cited recently, as well as the disappearances and murders, they’ll be a good help, they’ll be coming by tomorrow, try and get along with them.”
He said
Sayibg that, it gave you some hope, what if its his pack?? You’ll get to see him again!
That night, you were restless, you really hoped it was his pack, you missed him SO much, it was almost painful.
By the time they came around, you immediately looked for him, going based off memory from the vision.
And once you locked eyes with a boy, you knew it was him.
When you were about to walk up to him, he walked up to you, holding his hand for you to shake, so formal, yet, you were SO stoked to see him again, he had to he the same, right?
“Jacob Black.”
He said; introducing himself, Gaaaah, his voice is so…!!!!
You shook has habd.
“Y/N L/N.”
You said happily; after a second of silence, he gripped your hand tighter and pulled you into a bear hug, spinning you around and eventually putting you down, but not letting go of you.
“Missed ya.”
You spoke.
“Missed you too.”
“What a coincidence.”
#jacob black#jacob black x reader#Jacob black fanfic#fanfiction#fanfics#twilight x reader#the twilight saga#twilight fanfiction#werewolves#Quiluete#I love Jacob Black
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ultimate master list vol. 2
started: 10/12/2024
updated: 12/18/2024
~ heyy beautiful people, I didn’t know there was a 100 link post limit sooo u can still click the master list link to view the 1st one. I have decided to create this •master list• to make my page more easier to navigate and enjoy :) i take requests so feel free to drop whatever you want because I write everyday! the wolfpack is my preference but I will write for any other twilight characters as well :> however, I wont write about jacob black x renesmee and quil x claire xoxo (plagiarism of my writing is NOT allowed)
Twilight Saga
moodboards
alice cullen
rosalie hale
alec volturi
caius volturi
victoria
paul x reader home
edward cullen
la push, washington
jasper hale
wolfpack imagines
paul lahote
still sane
biting down
feel good
i think
guilty conscious
xo
just for now
hit me where it hurts
melting
infatuation
fallen alien
super freak
no problems
an angel cried
sweet insomnia
taking responsibility
bb
now or never
my sister says the saddest things
come on let’s go
door
hit me where it hurts part 2
where do we go
door part 2
it’s nice to have a friend
all for us
hold no grudge
so hot you’re hurting my feelings
sticky
how to disappear
embry call
forget it
know the way
cross you out
which way
freedun
which way part 2
l$d
coming back
lonely star
l$d part 2
take it back
the man with the axe
jacob black
rumors
sam uley
plastic doll
sour candy part 2
jared cameron
love scars
seth clearwater
billions
robbers
you’re not the one
judge judy
supernova pt 2
save me
on earth
kiss me more
disease
quil ateara
eventually
leah clearwater
kill v maim
what a girl wants
official
out of the woods
never be the same
reader x paul x embry x seth
wanted u
wanted u part 2
wolfpack smut
paul lahote
pretty
nsfw alphabet hcs
sfw alphabet hcs
quil x embry x reader
groupie love
wolfpack series
out of your league part 12
out of your league part 13
out of your league part 14
out of your league part 15
out of your league part 16
out of your league part 17
out of your league scenario (paul’s version)
out of your league part 18
out of your league part 19
out of your league part 20
out of your league part 21
out of your league part 22
wolfpack blurbs
pack x reader
444+222
sundress
tongues
heat
ideal
vampire imagines
alec volturi
ghostride
caius volturi
don’t forget
plans
twilight imagines
victoria
life in the vivid dream
trans!jacob black x alice cullen
snow on the beach
#masterlist#twilight wolfpack#twilight wolves#twilight saga#twilight#fanfic#la push#quileute#y/n#y/n imagines#imagine#twilight vampires#twilight fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfiction writer#writers on tumblr#writeblr#fanfic writing#volturi coven#request#twilight werewolves#jacob black#paul lahote#seth clearwater#leah clearwater#bella swan#sam uley#jared cameron#x reader#fanfiction series
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The Chef and the Critic
Chapter 3: Indulgent Dates and Growing Desire
The review had brought not only increased recognition and success to La Cuisine but also a deepening connection between Alex and Jacob. They found themselves eager to explore the possibilities that lay before them, both in and out of the kitchen.
Their first official date was at a cozy French bistro nestled in a quiet corner of the city. Alex, excited to see Jacob in a more relaxed setting, found himself nervous as he waited for the critic to arrive. When Jacob walked in, his face lighting up at the sight of Alex, all nervousness melted away.
"Alex," Jacob said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "I've been looking forward to this all week."
"Me too," Alex replied, a smile spreading across his face. "I thought it was time we experienced something new together, away from the kitchen."
The evening was filled with laughter, shared stories, and a mutual appreciation for the simple joy of good food and good company. They talked about their respective passions, their dreams, and their fears. Alex learned about Jacob's love for travel and his desire to one day explore the culinary delights of far-off lands. Jacob, in turn, discovered Alex's dedication to his craft, his love for creating not just delicious food, but unforgettable experiences.
As they savored their dessert, a decadent chocolate fondant, Jacob's expression grew serious. "Alex, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about. It's... a part of me that I haven't shared with... well anyone. I'm not sure how you'll react, but I feel like I can trust you."
Alex reached across the table, his hand covering Jacob's. "You can trust me, Jacob. What is it?"
Jacob took a deep breath, his eyes searching Alex's. "I have a... fetish. It's about deriving pleasure from gaining weight, from being fed and pampered. It's a part of who I am, and I'd like to explore it with you, if you're open to it," Jacob said nearly whispering, feeling nervous for the first time in his adult life.
Alex was taken aback, his mind racing as he processed Jacob's words. He had come across gainers and feeders, a product of a childhood exploring the internet without limits, but had never given it much thought. Now, seeing the vulnerability in Jacob's eyes, he realized that this was an important part of who Jacob was, and he wanted to understand it, to support Jacob in exploring it.
"I'm... I'm open to learning about it, Jacob," Alex said, his voice steady and true. "I want to understand you, all of you. And if this is a part of that, then I'm in."
Relief washed over Jacob's face, and he leaned in to kiss Alex, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. From that moment on, their relationship took on a new dimension. They began to explore together, with Jacob sharing his desires and Alex learning to cater to them.
Their dates became more frequent, each one a celebration of their growing connection and their shared passion for food. Alex started creating special dishes for Jacob, rich in calories and flavor. He took pride in watching Jacob indulge, his pleasure evident in every bite. As Jacob's weight began to increase, so did his confidence and his happiness. Alex found himself captivated by the changes in Jacob's body, by the softness that replaced the sharp angles, and by the way Jacob's appetite for food and desire for Alex seemed to grow in tandem. Alex reveled in Jacob's reactions to his cooking, as he fed Jacob more and more, he found himself enjoying the process as much as Jacob did. Months passed, the constant rich food along with dating a chef clearly showing on his waist. He had lost all ab definition, his stomach had become soft and just started to spill over his waistband, all his clothes were tight, emphasizing every curve.
One evening, after a decadent meal at a renowned Italian restaurant, Jacob took Alex's hand as they walked along the riverfront. The city lights danced on the water, casting a warm glow on their faces. Jacob turned to Alex, his eyes sparkling with desire.
"Alex, I've been thinking. How about we take a week or two off and go somewhere, just the two of us? Someplace where we can relax, enjoy each other's company, and maybe even indulge in some incredible food."
Alex's heart raced with anticipation. "I'd love that, Jacob. What do you have in mind?"
"There's this beautiful hotel in Italy I've always wanted to visit," Jacob said, his voice filled with excitement. "They have an amazing restaurant, and they've been after me to come review it for months. Plus, they promised unlimited room service. I want you to be in charge, Alex. I want to give myself over to you, to trust you completely with this. Let's see if they can really deliver on that promise."
Alex's eyes widened with excitement. "You mean it? You want me to order for you, to feed you?"
Jacob nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I do. I want to experience this through your eyes, through your tastes. I want to trust you, Alex, to give myself over to you completely."
Alex felt a surge of pride and desire. "I won't let you down, Jacob. I promise."
That weekend, they found themselves in a luxurious suite at the hotel Jacob had mentioned. As they settled in, Alex picked up the room service menu, his eyes scanning the options. He knew exactly what he wanted to feed Jacob first.
"Here we go," Alex said, his voice filled with anticipation as he placed the order. "Our first dish will be a rich, creamy risotto, filled with Arborio rice, Parmesan cheese, and a hint of saffron. I can't wait to see your face when you take that first bite."
Jacob's eyes widened with excitement. "I can't wait either."
As they waited for the risotto to arrive, Alex fed Jacob strawberries dipped in chocolate, their sweetness contrasting with the saltiness of his skin. He watched as Jacob savored each bite, his pleasure evident in every movement. When the risotto finally arrived, Alex took his time, feeding Jacob bite after bite, their connection deepening with each shared moment. They continued like this throughout their vacation, with Alex ordering dish after dish, each one more decadent and delicious than the last.
As the days wore on, Alex continued to indulge Jacob, feeding him dish after dish of decadent, calorie-rich food, keeping him stuffed to maximum capacity at all times. Jacob, surprised by Alex's dedication to him, surrendered himself to the pleasure of indulgence, trusting him completely. He could feel his body changing, growing rounder and softer with each passing meal.
By their last night, Jacob's belly had visibly grown since they arrived. It protruded out, a soft, rounded mound that hinted at the delicious treats it held. His once-sharp cheekbones had softened, his face taking on a rounder, a double chin just starting to form. His once-slender arms and legs now held a soft, inviting plumpness, and his movements had slowed, a testament to the contentment and satisfaction that filled him.
Alex watched these changes with awe and desire. He found himself captivated by Jacob's growing softness, by the way his body seemed to bloom under Alex's care. He loved the way Jacob's belly felt under his hands, the way it stretched and grew with each meal. It was as if Jacob was becoming a living, breathing embodiment of their love and indulgence.
One evening, as they sat on the balcony of their suite, watching the sun set over the Italian countryside, Alex fed Jacob the final dish of dinner—a rich, velvety tiramisu, layered with coffee-soaked ladyfingers, mascarpone cheese, and a dusting of cocoa powder. Jacob's eyes fluttered closed as he savored the dessert, a soft moan of pleasure escaping his lips.
"Alex," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction and desire. "I feel... I feel full. Not just my stomach, but my heart, my soul. I've never felt this way before. It's... it's incredible."
Alex's heart swelled with pride and love. He looked at Jacob, his eyes tracing the soft curves of his body, the way his belly strained against the fabric of his shirt. Jacob was no longer the lean, sharp-tongued critic he had first met; he was a vision of soft, sensual indulgence, a testament to their shared journey.
"I'm so glad, Jacob," Alex said, his voice filled with emotion. "I want to take care of you, to feed you, to watch you grow and flourish. I want to see how big and beautiful we can make you together."
Jacob's eyes fluttered open, meeting Alex's gaze. He reached out, his hand covering Alex's, their fingers entwining. "I want that too, Alex. I want to explore this with you, to see how far we can go. I trust you, completely." He took Alex by the hand and led him back to the bed.
Jacob stood, his movements slow and deliberate, and began to undress. As he revealed his body, Alex found himself captivated by the changes he saw. Jacob's once-slim chest was now a soft, rounded expanse, his belly a full, inviting mound. His once-slender legs were now thick and muscular under the layer of fat, a testament to the delicious food he had indulged in.
As Jacob approached the bed, Alex reached out, his hands tracing the soft curves of Jacob's body. He could feel the heat of Jacob's skin, the way it seemed to radiate with a sensual energy. He marveled at the way Jacob's body had changed, at the softness and fullness that now defined him.
Jacob climbed onto the bed, his movements deliberate and careful, mindful of the weight he now carried. As he straddled Alex, his body pressed against Alex's, his weight a warm, comforting presence. Alex could feel every curve, every soft inch of Jacob's body, and it sent a surge of desire coursing through him.
They made love slowly, their bodies moving in a dance as old as time itself. Alex reveled in the feeling of Jacob's weight on top of him, in the way it enveloped him, surrounded him. It was as if Jacob was a living, breathing blanket, his softness a comforting, sensual embrace.
As they moved together, Alex could feel the way Jacob's belly pressed against his, the way it wobbled with their movements. It was as if Jacob's body was a separate entity, a living, breathing extension of their love and desire.
Jacob's moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that matched the rhythm of their bodies. Alex could feel Jacob's heart pounding against his own, could feel the way their breaths synchronized, becoming one. It was as if they were two halves of a whole, their bodies and souls intertwined in a dance as ancient as the universe itself.
As they climaxed together, their bodies shaking with the force of their release, Alex found himself captivated by the feeling of Jacob's weight on top of him, and longing for more.
Bonus:
#ex jock#gay gainer#ai generated#gaining kink#gaining weight#male feedism#bloating kink#fat guy#ai image#ai story
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Sweet Like Honey
Summary: a request from a long time ago that the reader has bad anxiety. The staff begins to talk about R and her life choices... Melissa finds out and takes matters into her own hands.
WC: ~3.75k
Growing up with debilitating anxiety was not fun. From the time you were young, you were anxious. You barely talked in school, social gatherings made you nervous, eating out in public made your heart race, being in new places was a huge challenge.
As you grew older, the smaller things became easier for you, but with age, other things became challenges. Dating was practically out of the question, and other anxieties filled the spots that you grew out of.
The idea of getting older and having to become an adult was daunting, but you managed. You surprised yourself in an odd way too- the profession you chose is known to be an anxiety-inducing one: teaching. And yet, you’re fantastic at it. Because when push comes to shove, everything you do is for the kids. It’s selfless, and you can put your anxieties aside when you’re looking out for someone that isn’t yourself.
Sure, things like parent-teacher conferences, open house nights, and the idea of having to go to social gatherings with your coworkers rattles you, but you’re a natural when it comes to working with the children.
The one thing that makes all of the stressors of teaching and life just the slightest bit easier? You’re married to the redheaded second grade teacher. If anybody asked you, you would quickly tell them that you have no idea how you got Melissa Schemmenti to marry you. She is the exact opposite of you- strong and hardheaded, able to speak her mind, loud and crass. And yet the two of you fit perfectly together, and your marriage is one of the happier relationships you’ve seen. She’s able to help you stand up for yourself, and you have a way of keeping her calm and relaxed when she gets a bit too fired up about something.
Even with having your wonderful spouse at work with you, there are moments where she can’t quite be there for you in times of trouble. So it’s safe to say that some of the staff has caught you in moments that you can’t quite say are some of your best.
Barbara has caught you with your head in your hands on days where you’re stressed with teaching and also Melissa because she’s sick. Janine knows that you have a hard time when it comes to report cards because she’s had the unfortunate pleasure of finding you in the copy room practically ripping out your hair. Jacob and Mr. Morton have witnessed tears during periods of classroom buddy times. Ava has seen you in tears more times than you are willing to admit. Gregory, as your grade level partner, has come to realize that planning things out and things not going to plan induce more anxiety in you than it does in him, and that’s saying a lot. And Melissa sees all of this, and then some when the two of you are in the comfort of your own home. There have been many nights that end with you curled up next to her, tears drying on your face as she holds you and promises you that everything will be okay.
Today is… it isn’t a great day. You wake up in a sweat because of an anxiety riddled dream about only God knows what (you wish you could remember). Your wife asks you to drive to work today, which is quite uncommon. The redhead knows that you aren’t necessarily fond of driving in the city, especially during rush hours, but her head hurts. So you nod nervously and just barely got the two of you to school today without any tears. Then during the staff meeting, Ava dumps a shit ton of new information on you that makes you want to cry. And then after, a few of the other teachers ask questions that only make your anxiety worse about having to carry out these new testing periods, and your tears do begin to fall.
You feel a gentle squeeze of your hand as the pad of your wife’s thumb wipes your tears. She looks at you with those warm, comforting eyes that she saves for when you need to be grounded. All you can do is nod half-heartedly and look down in your lap for the rest of the staff meeting.
As soon as the faculty is dismissed from the library, you’re out of your seat and booking it down to your classroom. Melissa follows you silently, and as soon as you’re in the confines of your own classroom with the door closed, your tears begin to fall at a rapid pace. When your wife asks you to talk about what has you so overwhelmed, you reduced to small gasps for air as she strokes your hair softly and coaches you through different breathing exercises. Only once you’ve come down from a mild anxiety attack do you let out your fears.
“I’m going to fail,” you whisper. “I don’t want to fail.”
She frowns, and the lines in her forehead only deepen as she looks at you with a sadness in her eyes. “Honey, you won’t fail. You never do.”
“It’s becoming too much,” you say shakily. “When I became a teacher, I- I wasn’t expecting it to be this hard.”
“Amore,” the redhead sighs softly as her soft hands begin to trace patterns on your shoulder. “How many times have we been thrown curveballs working here?”
You shrug your shoulders up and down and give her a pitiful look. “A lot.”
“And we always make it through, yeah? Even when it gets hard, we always lean on each other and get it done, right?”
You nod your head, just barely.
“So what would make this situation any different?”
“We- we’re getting new programs for all of our core subjects, we have to learn all new testing and data methods, and-”
“And we’re going to be just fine. We always break it down into smaller tasks so it isn’t as daunting, and we always have each other and the rest of the group to help us out, right?”
“Right,” you huff quietly. “But I-”
“Hun, I get that you’re nervous about this. Hell, so am I, if I’m being honest. But we’re going to be okay. We always are,” Melissa promises you with a soft kiss to the temple.
“You’re right,” you tell your wife with the smallest smile.
The corners of her lips turn upwards, and she presses another warm kiss to your hairline. “When are you just going to admit that I’m always right?” she teases you.
“Well,” you chuckle through the last of your tears. “There was that one time…”
Green eyes are rolled playfully. “And you’ll never let me forget it. Now, how about we go meet with the group and try to figure out the important bits of all the convoluted shit Ava was yappin’ on about?”
You take a deep breath and shake your hands out before standing from your chair and putting on a brave face.
After this morning’s episode, your friends are a lot more gentle with you. Any time that the two of you are together, your wife is by your side trying to provide as much silent comfort as possible.
Unfortunately for you, your lunch was taken from you by a student issue, so the only time for you to eat is during your preparation period while your students are in gym class. And while your kids have gym, your wife is busy teaching her children about only God knows what- math, but how is she teaching it is a wonder to you. You take the long way around the school just to get a glimpse into her classroom, and you can see her sitting at her desk with a soft smile as she helps one of her students. It makes your heart warm. And then you’re on your way to the staff lounge to retrieve some of the leftover polenta your wife had made for dinner the previous night.
Right before you push the door open though, you can hear the third grade teachers chatting. And they’re… they’re talking about you.
“Don’t you just think it’s weird that a woman with that much anxiety about… literally everything is a teacher?” you can hear one of the women say.
You hear collective hums. And then another teacher pipes up. “And it’s even weirder to see Schemmenti go all soft for her… That ain’t the Melissa we started with.”
“That’s for damn sure.”
“How do you think that one ended up with her?”
“That’s the million dollar question,” another laughs. “I know it wasn’t Y/N. She was probably scared to shit the first time Melissa even tried to talk to her.”
“I kinda miss scary Schemmenti,” an older teacher says. “Those were the days… threatening parents and grandparents. Where’d that one go? Now she’s soft as hell.”
“Well, when you end up with someone like that-“ You can practically hear the disgust in your colleagues voice. “-You can’t be like that anymore. You gotta turn into Miss Honey or she’d lose her shit damn near every day. Pathetic. Holding her back, really.”
“It’s a damn shame,” the first teacher says. “I used to respect the hell outta Schemmenti for not lettin’ no one get in her way, but now… about as soft as Barbara Howard.”
Instinctively, you want to cry. But you know you can’t do that. You have to get your lunch, and then you can’t go fall into the arms of your wife. You have to return back to your own classroom and attempt to look at the new curriculum, despite the fact that it makes your heart rate skyrocket to even think about it. And now that you know what people think of the two of you… you almost don’t want to. You want to prove to them… and maybe yourself, that you’re a lot more than what they think of you.
So, with a soft smile, you push the door open and give your colleagues a wave. Your lunch is retrieved quickly, and you make your way out with nothing else said.
As the door is closing, you can hear one of them ask, “Do you think she heard us?”
“If she did, she’d be in tears. I think we’re good.”
You did. You heard everything they said, and you silently grin victoriously- you didn’t let the tears fall down your face like they so desperately wanted to.
Only once you’re in the confines of your classroom do you let the sobs that want to rack your body out. You allow yourself to feel everything, even as you scroll through page after page of information on your computer. And ten minutes before you have to pick your kids up from specials, you pull yourself together and ensure in that you look put together enough to go out into the hallways and have no one suspect a thing.
You make it through the rest of the day unscathed and without any trace of tears or suspicion that you’re upset with anything. You see the kids out for the day with a smile on your face, and when you catch a glance at your wife during dismissal, she smiles at you broadly. It’s clear to you that she was not expecting you to be in such high spirits what with everything happening at the school lately- and she doesn’t even know what you had overheard earlier in the day.
You’re even able to manage to keep that smile on your face as Melissa drives home. You don’t speak anything of the lunch room conversation, allowing her to believe that everything was perfect and beautiful.
And when the redhead pulls into the driveway and brings your knuckles up to her lips, you practically melt.
Over dinner, she does ask how you’re faring with the new curriculum. As opposed to bursting into tears and becoming an anxiety riddled mess like she expects you to, you give her the most confident smile you can muster up.
“I’ll be fine,” you tell her.
Melissa raises her brow. That was not what she was expecting. It’s clear your wife was ready to hold you through the rest of the night while you spiraled, as you tend to do when routines and normalities are changed in your life.
“That’s good, hun,” she tells you, although it’s clear she’s trying to see if you’re being serious.
You just nod along before helping to clean up dinner that night.
As you settle on the couch, you don’t sit quite as close to your wife as you usually would. On a normal night, you practically curl into her side and lounge across her. But after today, you think that maybe you need to back off.
In bed, you’re used to wrapping an arm around Melissa and falling asleep with a mouthful of red hair. But tonight, you lay in your own space.
“What’re you doing?” the woman you married asks.
You just turn to face her, brows creased. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you usually snuggle up,” Melissa tells you.
You shrug softly. “‘m hot tonight.”
That gets the second grade teacher to prop herself up on her elbows. She frowns. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Just hot,” you sigh softly. “I’m fine. Go to bed, hun.”
Your wife eyes you suspiciously for a few seconds before sighing. She leans over to kiss you. “Goodnight. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The days continue on like this- you pretending that you’re more than fine. In reality, your anxiety spikes everyday more so than usual. But you fight off those feelings of nervousness and continue to put on a brave face.
It takes Melissa a week of your unusual confidence to finally confront you about the distancing you’ve been doing. You’ve been taking your lunch during your preparation period, you haven’t brought up the fact that you’re stressed about the new systems being put into place at work, you don’t cozy up to her on the couch or in bed anymore. It’s… what is happening? Are you mad at her?
“So,” your wife sighs quietly once you’ve changed into pajamas and are sitting on the couch together to watch whatever is on. You turn to look at her. “Are you mad at me?”
Your brows furrow, and you shake your head. “No? Why would I be mad at you, babe?”
“I dunno,” Melissa shrugs. She takes your hand gently. “I just feel like you’ve been distancing yourself from me since last Tuesday.”
“No,” you say immediately. “I’m not mad at you, and I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve been distancing myself.”
“Why are you?” your wife asks softly.
“Why am I what?”
“Distancing yourself…” The redhead trails off before sighing and fiddling with her fingers. “Not showin’ up to eat lunch together, or not talkin’ to me really, or bein’ close to me.”
“I-“ Your eyes flit to hers, and you can see she’s wounded by your actions, or lack thereof. “I’ve just been busy, honey.”
“Doing?” Melissa prompts.
You shrug. “Trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with these new systems and all.”
Melissa quirks her lips. “We usually do that together.”
“I figured I would try to figure it out,” you tell her quietly. “Y-you know?”
Green eyes look to yours. “We usually do it together,” she repeats. “So you don’t get so stressed you can’t eat or nothin’.”
“I’ve been eating,” you argue weakly. “And I just wanted to… try to figure it out for us so that you could keep up with your students, and I wouldn’t hold you back.”
“Hold me back?” Your wife’s eyes get big. “What the hell does that mean?”
You shrug and finally dare to look at her for more than a split second. She sees in that instant that something happened to have you feeling this way.
“What happened, mi amore?”
Whatever was holding you together this entire week breaks, and you crumble. You tell her how you’ve been concerned with work, but also that you heard the teachers questioning your choice in becoming a teacher despite your near debilitating anxiety issues. You see the way Melissa angrily clenches and unclenches her jaw as you tell her these things.
And then you whisper, “And they were questioning how the two of us ever got together.”
“Why the hell would they do that?” Your wife’s eyes fill with fire. “They ain’t got no business talking about-��
“Said that since we got together, you haven’t been the Melissa they started with,” you hiccup out. “Th- that to be with someone like me, you have to be like Miss Honey, or I’d lose my shit everyday, and I-”
“Jesus Christ,” Melissa grumbles as she pulls you into her arms and holds you close. “I swear to God, tomorrow I’m ripping someone a-”
“And so it got me think- thinking,” you mumble. “That I’m not good enough for you if you can’t be the tough Schemmenti that you are deep down… that I’m just holding you back from finding a true love and happiness.”
You feel a soft hand cup your cheek, and you’re forced to look into emerald eyes filled with so much love and determination. “Mi amore, I want you to understand one thing: You are more than enough for me.”
“But what if-”
“There is no if,” your wife tells you firmly. “You are more than enough for me, and you do not hold me back. You make me better. I am the happiest that I’ve ever been with you right by my side for these last years.”
“But you used to be so respected because you were tough, and now you’re…”
“A little softer, yes,” Melissa smiles at you. “But I wouldn’t change that shit for the world if it means I get to have you by my side. And if these people want a tough Schemmenti, they’re sure as hell gonna get her now that I know they’re saying shit like this.”
“Mel, it’s fine,” you whisper. “I’ll be fine, just like you always tell me.”
“You might be fine, but they ain’t. No way they go around talking about you and questioning your teaching abilities, and then our marriage.”
That night, you find your place back into your wife’s arms as you crawl into bed. As your drifting off, she kisses your head and tells you that you’re it for her- there is no better than you. You get the best night’s sleep that you have in a week. It feels good to be held again.
The next day, you fall back into your old routine, but you have to admit you’re a bit of a nervous mess to walk back into Abbott knowing your wife could go off at any point when she realizes who was talking about the two of you.
It doesn’t take her long. You’re both sitting there enjoying your morning cups of coffee, fingers interlaced, when the group of teachers who was gossiping about the two of you walks in. Your wife catches the way they roll their eyes before nudging each other in a playful manner. The teacher who stated that she missed the old Schemmenti snickers.
Melissa frowns. “You got something you wanna share with the class, Jodie?”
The woman just hums. The second grade teacher looks to you, and a silent nod tells her that this is the group that you had overheard the other week.
“Oh, I think you do,” your wife smiles all too sweetly for the venom practically dripping out of her voice. “So, go ahead. Or would you rather I tell you what I know?”
“Lissa,” you tug on her arm gently. “Just leave it. It’s fine.”
Jodie smirks. It looks like because you’re going to calm your wife, she isn’t going to get the third degree. Oh, how wrong she is.
“So, why the hell were my and my wife’s names comin’ out of your mouths last week?” The redhead crosses her arms over her chest. She dares them to answer.
Your coworker opens and closes her mouth a few times, clearly looking for her words, but she comes up empty.
So Melissa jumps in. She practically jumps down your colleagues throats as she berates them for not only speaking of you in such a way, but for doing it where you could hear them. “You’re filling her head with a bunch of bullshit that she isn’t a good enough teacher, or-”
“Cause she’s not,” Jodie dares to huff.
Oh, if looks could kill. Barbara ends up coming in while your wife is screaming in the other teacher’s face, and she has to practically pull your wife out of the room kicking and screaming.
Your wife’s work wife is only able to hold her back for so long before Melissa comes storming back into the room. “And how dare you to go as far as questioning our marriage? Insinuating that she isn’t good enough for me, and then calling her pathetic? You thought I turned soft? Yeah, for her. For the rest of youse, watch it, because you don’t know who you’re messing with.” She points an accusatory finger at each of them, before turning to you. You watch as the anger disappears from her eyes. And for as rough and gravelly as her voice had been while she was addressing your coworkers, it turns straight to honey for you.
“C’mon babe,” Melissa stretches her hand out and takes yours gently in her own. “Leave these pathetic losers, and we can go enjoy our coffee in my room.”
Frozen in your place, you just continue to stare at the redhead. She- she’s terrifying when she’s pissed. But at the same time, she just defended your honor, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. You’re only broken from your trance when you feel her arm wrap around your waist and begin to force you walk with her. You halt for a brief second, just to pick up your hot drinks, and then you’re on your way down the hall.
Your coworkers just stare at each other as they try to comprehend what just took place.
And your wife can say one thing: Melissa may have softened up as the years have gone on, but it doesn’t take much for her to bring back to rough and tumble side of her- especially when it comes to defending you.
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