#late to the party but what else is new :p

[kiliinstinct]

Happy Late Valentine’s y’all.

Here’s a redraw of a Natsu I did a few years back. Just to challenge myself and see how I’ve improved…. With a lil Nalu sprinkled in because I can.

[hearts4hughes]

oh, professor - professor!rafe x student!fem!reader

WARNINGS: smut ; mdni ; p in v ; oral (f receiving) ; degradation ; unprotected sex ; age gap (reader is 22 & rafe is 29)

A/N: i started this writing for someone else, but changed it because it gave off so much rafe energy. all im needing rn is to get attention from professor!rafe

you sit in the dimly lit library. your leg bouncing up and down under the wooden table. it was late— too late for a tutoring lesson, especially one with your professor.

rafe, your professor, sat across from you. his presence was both distracting and irritating. you hate the way his eyes pierce through you, reading every thought you tried to conceal. he is only seven years older, but he wore his authority with a confidence that made your blood boil.

“if you actually paid attention, you would understand the material, y/n.” rafe says, his voice teasing and raspy. you shoot him a glare, your arms crossed over your body.

“i am paying attention,” you retort with a tight lipped smile. the lie leaked from the sides of your lips. how could you focus when every fiber of your being is aware of him?

he leans closer, his scent intoxicating as it fills your nostrils. your heart races in your chest. “then prove it.” he challenges, leaning back with a smirk.

you open your mouth, but nothing comes out. your mind is blank. rafe grins with pride, his cheekbones highlighted by the lightning in the room.

“it’s hard to think when you’re putting me on the spot.” you roll your eyes.

he stifles out a laugh in response.

at the start of your sophomore year at the university of north carolina, you were assigned to professor rafe cameron’s class. he was new to the college, and his arrival spread like a wildfire. he was tall with piercing blue eyes and a muscular body that was evident even under his formal clothes.

from the moment he walked into the classroom, he wore a confident strut in his steps. the girls practically swooned at him. as the semester went on, the outfits the students wore got smaller— each girl trying to catch his attention. however, he kept it professional, not looking lower than he needed to.

it all made you scoff. professors were supposed to be older and wiser than their students. but he was only twenty-nine! how could you truly respect him when he was barely older than you?

you couldn’t, and it didn’t go unnoticed. rafe had noticed you ever since you stumbled into class. his eyes followed you day after day, week after week, but you never shared that interest. you didn’t attempt to flirt with him or invite him to a party, you were totally indifferent. it enticed him.

however, ignoring your professor wasn’t the smartest idea. as a former straight a student, you were failing one class only— his. even though it was unusual for a professor to directly tutor a student, rafe offered to, leaving you no choice if you wanted to keep up your grades.

the tension between you and rafe was palpable. every week the fog surrounding the two became thicker.

“you’re not concentrating.” rafe spoke, breaking the silence. his voice was softer now, almost gentle.

“i’m trying.” your words were dismissive.

he sighs, closing his notebook. “maybe we should take a break.”

you nod in response.

as he stretched his arms above his head, his shirt pulled taut against his abdomen, revealing the outline of his abs. you looked away quickly, a red flush rising to your cheeks.

“why do you do that?”

“do what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

“act like you hate me,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “i know you don’t.”

you scoff. “why should it matter if i like you or not? you're my professor, not my roommate.”

“it begins to matter when your grades plummet.” he says plainly, tilting his head to the side with a smug expression.

you clench your fists by your side. frustration coursed through your veins like a wildfire. “you think you’re so smart, don’t you? you’re only a few years older than me!”

he chuckles, the sound so entrancing it made you gulp. “i’m smart enough to know that you’re scared to admit that you like me. that maybe, just maybe, you find this as intoxicating as i do.”

your heart pounded in your chest. “this is ridiculous.” you mutter under your breath. “i don’t need this, i’ll figure this class out myself.”

his smirk only grew deeper as you rushed out of the door. as the north carolina air hit your skin, it was hard to ignore the pulsating between your legs. looking back towards the library, you scoffed.

**

the next morning you find yourself back in rafe’s lecture hall. the room is filled with the scent of coffee and the rustle of college students.

you take your usual spot in the middle of the class. as you unpack your books and laptop, a figure sits besides you. you glance at the boy as he smiles, mirroring your action of setting up his academic station.

“hey,” he greeted. “you always sit in these seats, don’t you?” he smirks. “i’m gavin by the way.” you can’t help but blush as he holds out his hand.

you shake his hand, “hi, i’m y/n.” you reply, your hand still lingering in his. “and what can i say, i like routine.” he chuckles at your cheeky comment.

he’s cute with a dirty blonde mop of curls on his head. his eyes brown eyes are doe and kind. his jaw is sharp and his dimples pop when he smiles. he’s the all american perfect boy. the rest of the lecture is harder to focus on as he sits besides you. every so often, he steals glances at you and whispers jokes into your ear.

rafe notices the second the male student sits besides you. he notices how the boy’s gaze lingers on you and your cleavage, and how he’s so desperate for an ounce of attention from you. it makes his body tense and his lungs tight. it’s unbelievably hard to stay on track during the lesson which causes him to end the class fifteen minutes early.

“we’ll pick this up next class. see you all next week.” he clasps his hands together, signaling the end of period.

you stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as gavin follows you like a loyal puppy. within steps of the exit, your professor calls out to you.

“y/n, can you stay after class, please?” rafe calls out towards you. his body was stiff and jaw tense. the usual glimmer in his eyes was replaced with a greenish tinge.

girls besides you sneered as you nodded your head, waiting until the rest of the students filtered out before you walked towards him.

“yes, professor?” you said, your voice bitingly sharp.

“we didn’t get to finish our conversation from last night.” he tisked, his eyes raking up and down your body. “you left so abruptly.”

“well, we were done tutoring, so i had no other reason to stay.” the words are sharp off your tongue, only encouraging him more.

he stared deeply into your eyes. his eyes held an ocean filled with lust and secrets. it was as if there was a siren in the waters, singing and drawing you in.

you broke eye contact, allowing your gaze to fall onto the ground. he chuckled as if he had won a bet. your cheeks blushed something fierce.

“make a new friend today?” he asks as he moved his body around his desk. he was now standing directly in front of you, leaning on his desk. his dress shirt pulled against his body, emphasizing his impressively muscular arms.

he is a work of art.

you turn your head, “i’m not sure what you mean.” your voice was shaky and you weren’t sure if it was because of the tension in the atmosphere or the tension between your legs.

“really?” he challenges. “i could have sworn you were talking to that boy during my lecture.”

“it was just a conversation, rafe.” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual. however, your heart rate increased under the confines of your clothing.

he took a step closer, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine. “oh, i’m rafe now? what happened to professor? and it seemed like more than a conversation.” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “i don’t like seeing you flirt with other students.”

you swallow harshly. “yeah? and why’s that?” your words were an attempt to maintain steady, but you knew who was controlling the conversation.

his lips curved into a smirk, his eyes darkening with desire. “you don’t have to pretend with me, y/n.” his voice was soft. he reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “i know you want this just as badly as i do.”

the fire burning in your core intensified.

“we can’t do this.” your mind was telling you no, but your heart was screaming yes. “y-you’re my professor, and i’m a student.”

“i know.” his voice was sultry. chills traveled along your skin as his finger traced your arm. “i’m no good for you, but doesn’t that make this all so much better?” he leans in, whispering into your ear.

his lips dropped from your earlobe onto the skin of your neck. he sucks along the sensitive skin, biting ever so gently.

“rafe,” you breathe out. he hums in response, his arms wrapping around your body as he pulled you close. “kiss me.”

without any hesitation, his lips landed on yours. his lips were soft, yet demanding, moving against yours in a fiery rhythm. your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between. the bulge beneath his dress pants began to grow.

you could feel the heat radiating from him, mixing with your own. the kiss depend, his tongue teasing your mouth. a moan escaped you, echoing around the empty classroom. he flipped you around, lifting you up, and sitting you on his desk. your legs separated as he stood in between them.

breaking the kiss, he gazed into your eyes, his lips still a shadow on yours. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered, his voice dripping with pure desire.

you were breathless in a haze of pleasure and desire. “what else have you wanted to do?” you look at him through your lashes. your doe, sweet eyes flicking a switch inside of him as he growls in response.

his hands traveled to the hem of your shirt before swiftly ripping it off. you sat clad in a black, lace bra, leaving little to the imagination.

“you’re ethereal.” his words painted a pink flush on your cheeks.

one hand reaches behind your back, unclasping your bra and revealing your perky tits. you gasp as his mouth attaches onto one of your nipples, sucking voraciously.

your legs wrap around his waist as you melt into his touch. every rational thought fled your mind, replaced by a primal need to feel pleasure; to feel him.

“rafe,” your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling every time his tongue swirls around your sensitive nipple. he responded with a moan, dropping to his knees in front of you.

you took in the sight as he unclasped your jeans. his hair was a tousled mess, his lips swollen, face flushed, and eyes hungry with desire.

he pulled the material down your legs, discarding it elsewhere in the room. your matching lace panties made his mouth hang agape.

he looked up at you, “are you sure about this?” you nod, your body squirming in need of touch. he tisked with a grin, “i need words, sweetheart.”

“yes.” the words couldn’t have left your lips faster.

the second he heard your consent, he dropped his head down to your lower body. he began at the edge of your thighs, licking a trail up to your inner thighs. his hands moved with purpose, swirling circles around your legs, but never in the one spot you desperately wanted.

he took his time, savoring each moment as he licked, kissed, and sucked the skin along your thighs and waist.

you wiggled as you grew impatient. he chuckled, taking a hint and suddenly pressing his tongue flat against the thin material of your black panties. your head fell back in pleasure.

he made quick work of pulling your panties to the side and licking a long stripe up your folds. your fingers find their way to his hair, where you tug and pull. that only encourages him more as he begins to lap up your core like a man starved. his nose pushes against your clit as his tongue penetrates deep inside you.

the sight of his handsome face buried between your legs made you whimper, clenching around nothing but his muscle. your juices covered the lower half of his face as he continued to please you.

“taste so much better than i imagined.” he coos, shifting his focus from your hole to your bundle of nerves. you whimpered when his tongue circled around the little nub. he smirked against you.

“i’m gonna-” you interrupted yourself with a gasp as his ring and middle finger entered you. you stretched around his digits, leaving your mouth agape. he pulls away from your legs to look at you as he curls his fingers just the right way.

it wasn’t long before he began pumping his fingers in and out of you at a merciless pace. you felt the knot in your stomach tightening as he continued his assault on your pussy.

and just as you were about to come undone on his fingers, he pulled them out. your eyes shot open and you opened your mouth to argue, but his lips crashed against yours in a hungry battle between tongues. he pulled away with a tisk.

“think i was just going to reward you for being a brat?” he shook his head. “after you flirted with that ass in front of everyone? gotta teach you a lesson, honey.” he undid his buckle and dress pants before allowing them to drop to the ground.

your eyes widened as he freed his thick length from the confines of his boxers. his tip was painfully throbbing, in need of release. he ran his finger over his tip, collecting precum and spreading it across his cock. he hisses at the feeling, only causing the ache between your legs to intensify.

he scoffs as you spread your legs wider for him. “such a needy little slut, huh? need your professors dick that bad? so pathetic.” his words send a shock straight to your core, making your legs twitch. he smirks as he steps between your legs. he grabs himself and teases your entrance. when his tip knocks at your clit that’s when you turn into a cock drunk mess.

“please, rafe. i need you so bad that it hurts.” his smirk widens as you beg. while keeping eye contact, he bottoms out completely in you. you want to scream at the pleasure, but all that falls from your mouth are whiney, pathetic whimpers.

he doesn’t give you time to adjust before thrusting ruthlessly into your sopping cunt. his thick length stretches you out deliciously. his hand drops to your clit, rubbing in circular motions to ease the pain into pleasure.

his hand claps around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head feel hazy. he continuously pounds into you. his tip kisses your cervix causing you to yell out in pure ecstasy. he smirks as he looks down at your stomach. with each thrust his cock bulges against your skin.

“rafe, it’s too much.” you breathe out, squirming around. his hand tightens around your throat and his other clings to your hips, holding you down as he fucks you.

“you can fucking take it.” he spat, his lips connecting with yours. it’s a clash between teeth and tongues as the knot in your stomach intensifies.

he leans back in his heels, hitting a new angle. his dick hits your g-spot continuously, bringing you to your climax. you cream around his length and it spills onto the floor below you as he doesn’t slow up on his thrusts.

you lay limp, clinging to his biceps as he spills inside of you. you’re thankful that you’re on the pill because nothing ever beat the feeling of his sperm painting your walls. breathlessly, he slows down his strokes. he pulls out, kneeling down and watching your mixed juices spill out of your worn-out core. using his fingers, he pushes his release back into you, marking you as his.

“i think you just earned some extra credit.”

[steveslevis]

let’s make it cinematic!

azriel x OF!reader (modern au) - part 1 of ?

summary: azriel and his girl are looking for new ways to make ends meet when their friends suggest something that neither of them would’ve ever thought to try…something neither of them would’ve ever thought they’d enjoy so much.

warnings: drinking, smoking (weed-adjacent aka mirthroot), sex tapes/filming sexual acts, dom!azriel x sub!reader, smut!!! so much smut, fingering, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, rough sex, degradation AND praise kinks, (light) choking, dirty talk, shadow play, size kink (simply bc az is HUGE), creampie (wrap it up yall!!!), az is a protective dom & king of aftercare, mentions of exhibitionism and a foursome

word count: 7.5k

a/n: it's FINALLY here!!!! shoutout to @bookishbishhh for the amazing idea, sorry this took forever...i hope everyone enjoys part 1 of who knows how many <333

Thick smoke hangs in the air around the apartment, the sound of laughter likely carrying through the entire complex as Azriel, Cassian and Rhys sit on the couch, talking about nothing in particular. 

It’s a weekly ritual at this point for them to get together on a Friday night, just three so-called brothers laughing about senseless stories and reminiscing on their years spent together while passing mirthroot and sharing a bottle of whiskey. This week was no different from any other, aside from the distance in Azriel’s hazel eyes as the other two laugh about something Cassian did at a party the weekend before. 

Rhys nudges the quiet male, offering him the lit mirthroot between his fingers to grab his attention. Azriel grunts in response, taking it before placing it between his lips and inhaling sharply. 

“What’s on your mind, brother?” Rhys questions. 

Azriel is hesitant to share, squeezing his eyes shut as he holds the smoke in for a moment. He knows Rhys specifically won’t understand his situation, considering he’s never had to deal with financial hardship in his life. But he knows there’s never been judgment from either of them when discussing money, so he pushes his hesitancy down despite the hollow feeling in his chest.

“Things have just been tough lately,” he sighs, finally exhaling the smoke he was holding in before passing the mirthroot to Cassian. “We have no fucking money and I hate that Y/N has to work pretty much any time she’s not studying or in class. She’s stuck at that damn restaurant every night until fucking midnight and I hate seeing her so exhausted every night but it’s not like she can just quit right now.”

There’s a beat of silence in the room as both Cassian and Rhys nod in understanding, before Cassian exhales his smoke and suggests something Azriel would’ve never expected.

“Have you thought about OnlyFaes?” 

“Shut the fuck up Cass–”

“I’m not fucking around!” Cassian interjects, “I mean, don’t get all shitty and possessive on me, but your girlfriend is hot as fuck, and horny as fuck might I add. So why not get paid to fuck her? Me and Nes have had the best time doing it.”

It was no secret that Nesta had her own OnlyFaes and that Cassian was featured on it more times than not, he loves showing her off on their page and showing everyone how hot his girl that nobody else will ever have a chance to touch is.

“You can’t be serious,” Azriel nearly snarls, shaking his head sharply, “I am not gonna even ask her to do that. Y/N would never.”

Rhys chuckles while pouring himself some more whiskey, making Azriel snap his gaze in that direction, “What?” he insists, eyes narrowed on Rhys, “What’s so funny about that?”

“I think you don’t know your girlfriend if you think she wouldn’t be willing to try that,” Rhys says smoothly with a smirk, “Considering all the times you’ve had an audience–accidentally or not–I think she might be more than okay with doing it on camera, as long as you’re the one doing it.”

Azriel’s jaw twitches at his words, mind racing with thoughts of how good you look when he fucks you, how he can’t get enough of the noises you make when you cum, how well it would probably do in a video. There’s conflicting voices in his mind, one telling him to never share you and one telling him that the two of you could be so successful and never have to worry about how you were gonna pay rent again.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s worth a shot, Az?” Cassian questions. “I think she’d be into it.”

As Azriel opens his mouth to reply, the sound of a key sliding into the front door lock stops him in his tracks. His shadows skitter towards the door and swirl around the handle, excited to greet their favorite person.

The door opens a moment later, and you’re on the other side looking exhausted from a long day of class and work. You give your boyfriend a weak smile, mumbling a quick hello to the other two males in the room while closing the door and throwing your bag down. You look up from where you throw your bag down and halfway frown, cursing yourself silently for forgetting that it’s Friday and you wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of the night cuddling in bed with Az. 

“Long night?” Cassian is the first to break the silence, furrowing his brow as he takes in your disheveled appearance. You nod and he grimaces sympathetically, holding up the bottle in his hand as he does. “Want a shot?” 

Azriel elbows Cassian roughly, shooting a glare in his direction before standing up to walk over to you. His eyes fall on you and you nearly melt, leaning into his grasp as he reaches for your cheek. Azriel’s large wings raise behind him, as if he’s trying to shield you from the two males on the couch behind him as he and his shadows greet you.

“Ignore him, I think he’s had too much mirthroot tonight and is going crazy.” he mumbles, stroking his thumb across your cheek, “did you have a good shift?”

You sigh before shaking your head, rolling your eyes at the thought of the draining night you just had. Working in Prythian’s finest dining room came with its perks, mainly being the somewhat generous tips, but that didn’t mean that people weren’t assholes to you throughout every single shift, and tonight was no different. 

You had gotten stuck waitressing for a large party of businessmen, who all decided it would be a great idea to flirt with you all night and make crude comments under their breath in your direction any time you passed their seats. So no, you hadn’t had a good shift at all.  

“Don’t really wanna talk about it,” you retort tiredly, frowning up at Azriel while reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m just gonna go to bed, I think. Don’t wanna bring down the fun.”

A frown crosses Azriel’s face for a moment but he nods, noting the darkness underneath your eyes as you stare up at him, “we’ll try not to be too loud and keep you up.”

The other males bid you goodnight from the couch as Azriel kisses your cheek gently. You give him a tired smile before trudging towards the bedroom. 

You shrug out of your black slacks and polo, changing into pajamas before curling up under the covers. It doesn’t take you more than five minutes to fall asleep, exhaustion raking over your whole body as soon as your head meets the pillow. 

________________________________________

The bed is empty and cold when you wake, making you frown at the absence of your favorite person. Before you can sulk too much, your phone buzzes from the bedside table. You turn over in the bed to grab for it, a small smile crossing your face as you read Azriel’s name on the screen. You look at the clock in the corner of the screen, realizing you slept in until 12:30 in the afternoon after utter exhaustion took you in the night before. There are three texts from the male, all over the last six hours. 

Azzy <3 - 6:15 am: Forgot to tell you that I was taking an extra shift at the shop this morning, I’ll be home around 1. Love you.

Azzy <3 - 8:52 am: Can’t wait to spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed…wish I could’ve been there to wake you up the proper way this morning ;)

Azzy <3 - 12:28 pm: Don’t even know if you’re awake yet, but I’ll be home in less than five minutes. Finished up the car I was working on early, see you soon, love. 

You smile to yourself as you read his semi-formal texts. He’s never been keen on texting since he’d rather just call you, but he’s gotten more chatty over text since the two of you barely get to see each other when you’re busy with work and school all the time. You start to type a message in reply, but he’s true to his word and you hear the front door unlocking only four minutes after he sent his last text. 

You wait patiently in the bed, sitting up as you watch the bedroom door intently. It only takes a few seconds for him to open the door quietly, eyes widening in half-shock when he sees that you’re actually awake. You smile over at him sleepily, noting how his oil-stained coveralls are draped over his arm and his hands are surprisingly clean, as if he cleaned himself up before coming home. 

“Well, good morning, sleeping beauty.” he teases, striding over to your side of the bed to give you a quick kiss. 

“Hi,” you mumble tiredly, reaching up to cup his cheek gently. “Did you have a good morning?” 

He hums in agreement, quickly tossing his work clothes into their designated laundry basket before slipping under the covers next to you. You slide as close to him as possible, wrapping your arms around his waist while burying your face in his neck. Azriel’s arms snake around your shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you lay in comfortable silence, happy to sit in each other’s arms and enjoy the moment for a while. 

When you do finally pull away to look up at him, Azriel’s brow is furrowed and he’s staring at the opposite wall, deep in thought. You trail your hand along his chest to break him from his trance, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt to get his attention.

“What’s on your mind?” you question when he finally looks down at you. 

“Oh, just something Cass said last night,” he sighs, giving you a wry smile. You raise your brow at him, waiting for him to continue. “We were talking about how it’s been hard for us, with you being in school and working and with me having to pick up extra shifts at the shop. And–And he suggested a way for us to make more money. I was just thinking about it.”

“Well, what was it?” you urge. 

“He suggested that we try OnlyFaes.” he says bluntly, watching you intently to gauge your reaction. 

“O–Oh.” you say, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you mull over his words. 

“Yeah, I–I thought it was insane at first.” he begins, shadows slithering around his wings as he looks at you with nervous eyes. “But then I got to thinking about it. Would it really be so bad? I–I mean, we already fuck all the time, and you’re insatiable as is,” he says with a small smirk, “What’s the difference between doing it alone versus in front of a camera? It’ll just be us still.”

Your mind races as you think about his suggestion. In all honesty, it seems less and less insane the more you think about it. You’ve heard of people making so much money on OnlyFaes, so what’s the real harm in it? 

Before you can come up with a reply, Azriel takes your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks gently.

“I don’t want you to say yes right now. I don’t want to force you to do something you’re not interested in, love.” he says quietly, searching your gaze for any signs of offense. “It might not be for us, we don’t even have to attempt it if you don’t feel comfortable with it. It’s just something to think about, okay?”

Something roils in your gut as he peers down at you lovingly, a strange feeling of lust mixed with sin. 

“Yeah–Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

________________________________________

Laughter and playful banter fill the living room of Nesta and Cassian’s apartment as you sit on the velvet couch with Nesta. She insisted you come over on your night off for a girl’s night, one filled with gossip, talk about all of your favorite smutty books, and plenty of wine. The conversation flowed naturally, and you eventually brought up the conversation you had with Azriel a few nights prior, the one you hadn’t been able to shake for the last few days. 

“Can you believe that?” you giggle, swirling the red liquid in your glass, “Az actually suggested that I should start an OnlyFaes. Me, of all people! Like I would make any money.”

Nesta smirks at you, shaking her head at your feigned outrage while sipping her own wine. 

“I can believe it, actually.” she retorts, making you stop dead in your tracks. “I know you could make plenty of money. I make plenty on there and I’m sure you could make even more than I do, especially if you let Az fuck you–”

“Wait, wait–” you interject, brow furrowed as you sit up abruptly as she speaks. “You do OnlyFaes?”

“Of course I do, you didn’t know?” Nesta says casually, raising an eyebrow as you stare at her wide-eyed. “Me and Cass are so horny that we’re on each other almost all the time, might as well make some money while we’re going at it, you know?”

“Are you fucking with me right now, Nes?” you question, unable to read her facial expression as she watches with amusement as you obsess over this revelation.

“No, Y/N. I’m not fucking with you.” she laughs dryly. 

“And–And you actually make money by doing this?” you continue, still skeptical.

Nesta nods, reaching for her phone, “Would me showing you my profile and my last payment from the site make you stop asking so many questions?”

You’re silent as you nod in reply, waiting impatiently as she pulls up the page on her phone. Nesta hands her phone to you, a small chuckle escaping her lips again as you go wide-eyed as you scroll. There were dozens of videos on her profile, some with Cassian, some with just her, along with countless photos of her in positions you truly weren’t sure were possible before seeing them with your own eyes. 

“Oh, quit blushing like a schoolgirl,” Nesta’s voice makes you jump as she leans over to you, pressing a few buttons on her phone as you hold it, “it’s not like you and Azriel are vanilla saints in the bedroom who just stick to missionary. I’ve seen the two of you fuck before, remember?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble under your breath, blush deepening as you recall the time Cassian and Nesta walked in on Azriel fucking you ruthlessly into the couch of their old shared apartment and didn’t stop once he noticed them. 

“Uh huh, I’m sure you don’t,” she retorts, clicking one final button on her phone before letting go, revealing her last paycheck from the account, “Here’s the proof that I actually make some money.”

Some money was the understatement of the century if you were being honest. Last week alone Nesta had made $1200, and $1400 the week before, and some weeks she made up to $2000. The thought of making that much money in a month, let alone one week, was something you never thought you’d be able to do. 

“I really think you should go for it,” Nesta urges genuinely as she watches you stare in wonder at her paychecks, “I think you’ll enjoy this a hell of a lot more than your shitty ass waitressing job.”

“Yeah–Yeah, I probably would,” you say sheepishly, handing the phone back to her as your mind races with the possibilities. “I’ll think about it.”

________________________________________

Perched on top of the kitchen counter, you admire the shirtless male in front of you as he finishes preparing a simple dinner for the two of you. It’s not uncommon for Azriel to make dinner, as you’re usually too tired to think about making anything by the time you get home from work. He plates the pasta with tomato sauce, adding some cheese on top before pouring two glasses of your favorite–but cheap–red wine. 

Azriel tending to you–in any manner–is truly your favorite sight, the way he makes sure you’re always happy and cared for always makes your heart sing, and your core ache. 

You take in every inch of him as he focuses on the glasses in front of him, eyes trailing from his half-wet hair from taking a shower a few minutes ago, down to his bare chest, over his tattooed shoulders to his muscular back and the wings–gods, those wings–between his shoulder blades. The bat-like wings behind him always make you damn near feral, loving the way they flare and twitch when you touch them, the way they make the already large Illyrian male seem even larger and more intimidating than he already is. 

“Dinner, my love.” he says, finally breaking you from your trance as he turns to face you. Your cheeks are flushed red when he turns to you and he smirks, knowing he just caught you staring. 

Before he can make any playful jabs at you for gawking, you let what’s been on your chest for the last day finally come out. 

“I wanna do it.” you start, looking at him with fire and lust in your gaze. 

“I mean, you always wanna do it–” he teases casually as he slides the plates onto the small table in between the kitchen and living room, “but can’t that wait? You need to eat, sweetheart.”

“No, no.” you shake your head at him, brow furrowing in frustration as you’re unsure how to word your next sentence. But fuck it, you’re just gonna say it, “I wanna try OnlyFaes.” 

“Oh,” he says and you swear his voice drops an octave when he speaks, “you wanna do that, huh?”

He moves in one quick stride to stand between your spread thighs, trapping you on the countertop by bracketing his large hands on either side of you. You peer up at him with wide eyes, nodding wordlessly as his shadows flicker around the two of you. 

“Are you sure?” he questions, his hazel eyes going dark as his mind races to impossibly inappropriate places. 

“Yes,” you say confidently, reaching one hand up to tug through his dark hair, “I want you to fuck me on camera, Az. Wanna show the world how good I can be for you, Sir.” 

The tension in the air is palpable as you draw out that last word, looking up at him with lust-filled eyes as he towers over you.

“I told you not to call me that unless you can handle finishing what you’re starting,” he nearly growls, hands coming up to grip your hips tightly, “and right now, you need to eat, not start this teasing shit.”

You hum in response, a glint of mischief in your eyes as your hand trails from his hair and down to the back of his neck, pulling him down and into a passionate kiss. He groans against your mouth, pressing your body against his by tugging your ass to the edge of the counter and making you wrap your legs around his waist. 

“What if I’m not hungry and I wanna finish what I’m starting?” you tease, angling your hips up to meet his, only the thin fabric of your underwear and his sweatpants between you two, as you’re only wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of underwear.

Azriel doesn’t have time to make any remarks before you pull him back in for another searing kiss. He keeps his lips on yours as one hand finds its way between your thighs, making you whine against his lips as his fingers hover over your core. Your hips buck into his hand as his index finger swirls over your clothed clit, making him groan as you nearly melt under his touch. 

“Gods, thinking about me fucking you in front of a camera turns you on this much?” he teases, kissing down the side of your neck as you nod enthusiastically at him. He only chuckles and pushes the cloth of your panties to the side, slipping a thick finger into you without warning. “Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, Az.” you nearly plead, continuing to nod as he pumps the finger in and out a few more times before adding another. “I’m your little slut, wanna show everyone how good you make me feel.”

He hums in approval as you grind against his fingers, which drive into you quickly as you grip onto his shoulders to keep balance on the counter. His shadows travel beneath his shirt that you’re wearing, teasing your nipples as he focuses on your dripping cunt and swollen clit. You’re almost completely lost in the pleasure, that familiar knot forming in your stomach at a rapid pace while you whimper against his neck. 

Just as you’re about to reach that sweet release, all stimulation from the male and his shadows stops, his hands back against the counter as he leans in to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek. You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing as if you’re a fish out of water as you look at him in disbelief. 

“You need to eat and you’re not cumming until you do.” he says in a warning tone against your cheek before pulling away completely, motioning for you to follow him to the dining table after he smooths down your shirt and places your underwear back over your core. 

“Az,” you plead, trudging along behind the male towards the table, “what if I told you that I ate a little bit, like, two hours ago?” 

The male turns to look at you with narrowed eyes as he sits at the table, he definitely doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. 

“Some asshole asked for a salad and then sent it back at least five times because none of them were right, so Omar let me have one of the remakes because of all the trouble the ass put me through,” you explain, ignoring the chair Azriel pulled out for you to sit in, opting to shift onto your knees in front of the male, “I’m not even hungry.”

That was a lie, you were hungry, but only for him. 

He stares down at you, his face showing only cool composure as you crawl a bit closer to him on your knees, hands coming up to rest on his thighs as you sit between them. There’s a noticeable tent in his sweats in front of you, which you eye hungrily as one hand comes up to palm it through the thin fabric. You hesitate for a moment as he looks down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes, but continue when he doesn’t stop you. 

It only takes one tug on the waistband of his sweats to free his large cock, letting it spring back in front of your face before grabbing the length. You’ll honestly never get used to how big it is, how your hand barely reaches around the entire girth when you stroke it, how it fills you up to the brim every time it’s in your mouth or in your cunt. 

You stare up at him as he leans back in the chair, trying to keep his composure as you reach to kitten-lick and kiss the red, angry tip of his cock before attempting to take it into your mouth. He grunts as the tip hits the back of your warm throat, your tongue sliding over the underside as you fist the rest of his length that you can’t fit into your mouth. He looks down at you then, noticing the way your free hand snakes between your thighs and you rut your hips against your palm, desperately trying anything to cure the ache that he left between your thighs. 

It’s then that he decides he’s not hungry–for anything except for you–anymore.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Azriel whimpers finally, tugging at your hair to pull you off his length. You look up to him with a furrowed brow, glassy eyes and a frown, disappointed in his denial. “You’re such a little needy cockslut, aren’t you?”

Before you can reply, you’re tugged from the ground and thrown over the male’s shoulder, making you squeal in surprise. He pushes the chair out of his way before turning on his heels to walk towards your shared bedroom.

“C’mon, love.” he murmurs as he kisses the outside of your upper thigh that’s nearest to his head, “let’s go practice for the camera.”

________________________________________

In all honesty, you never thought the two of you would actually follow through with this, but here you are, kneeling on your bed in the apartment you share with Azriel, wearing a new white silk slip over a matching lace thong while he sets up the camera facing where you’re sitting on the bed. 

“Are you sure about this?” Azriel asks for probably the fifth time in the last ten minutes, searching your gaze for any signs of doubt before he turns the camera on.

“Az, I’m fine.” you assure him once more, pushing your nerves down as you stare at your beautiful boyfriend from across the room. “Now let’s get this shit started before I’m not horny anymore.”

He raises a brow at you and chuckles, toying with the buttons on the camera you borrowed from Nesta once more.

“Ready?”

You nod, watching Azriel closely as he clicks the button to turn the video on. 

“Sit up straight and look pretty for me, sweetheart.” he says while taking a step towards the bed, “wanna see how beautiful you look before you get all fucked out on my cock, even though I love how cute you look then, too.”

You’re amazed at how quickly he switches into his usual sultry and serious tone, you immediately obey his command by straightening out your back, peering up at him through your lashes. You’re glad he’s acting like he normally does in the bedroom and is trying to make it seem as though it’s just the two of you as much as possible, like he’d promised the night before. 

He takes another swift step and he’s at the foot of the bed, thigh brushing against your knee as he presses against the mattress. Your eyes rove over his body, taking in his bare, sculpted chest littered with swirling tattoos, his wings flared behind his shoulders, the silver chain adorning his neck, his black boxers hiding his best assets, all making your heart–and core–flutter. He reaches for your chin, gripping it lightly to force your gaze to meet his lust-filled eyes. He smirks down at you, taking in every inch of you.

“Hi love,” he nearly purrs, one hand falling to the strap of your slip, toying with the silk between his thumb and pointer finger, “I like this little outfit, is this all for me?”

“All for you, Sir.” you respond sweetly, fighting the urge to reach up and pull his lips down to yours by pressing your palms firmly against your bare thighs.

“Such a sweet girl,” he coos, fingers trailing through your hair towards the nape of your neck, tugging at the locks to make you whine. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, sitting pretty while you wait for me to set up. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Your eyes light up at his words, nodding quickly as he chuckles at your enthusiasm. At this point, you’ve almost forgotten about the camera pointing at you, your brain nearly turned to mush just because of Azriel’s sweet yet domineering demeanor, just like you always do when he takes control.

“What kind of reward do you want tonight, love?” he says, watching you fidget excitedly under his touch.

“Wanna cum for you, Sir.” you say shyly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you stare up at him, “Wanna cum on your fingers, a–and your cock.”

“So greedy,” he teases, one hand roaming toward the swell of your breasts, “But since you’ve been such a patient girl for me, I think I can make that work.”

You nod excitedly in response, grinning as Azriel leans down to pull your lips into a swift kiss. He pulls away as quickly as he pulled you in, moving to sit behind you on the bed instead of standing in front of you. He situates you between his spread legs, adjusting to where you’re leaning against his chest with your knees bent and your thighs spread, putting you on full display.

He makes quick work of exploring your body, one hand kneading your right breast while the other pushes the hem of your slip up. You crane your neck to look up at him, a pout forming on your lips to silently beg for a kiss. Azriel obliges, releasing your breast to grip your neck, squeezing slightly as he pulls you in for a kiss. 

His other hand continues to roam along your spread thighs, massaging the soft skin with touches teasingly close to your core. You whine into the kiss, canting your hips against his hand to gain more friction as he teases you. His fingers brush against your clit once before pulling the lace thong down your legs to throw it on the ground, exposing your glistening core to him and the camera. 

“Gods, you’re so wet.” he mutters against your cheek, one finger sliding into your heat with ease as you whine. “That’s it, such a good girl.”

Your head falls against his shoulder as you bite back a moan and snap your eyes shut, grinding your hips against his hand as he slowly pumps the digit in and out. His hand squeezes your throat then, a low disapproving growl falling from his lips making your eyes fly open to look up at him.

“Eyes on me, baby.” he warns, thumb reaching up to circle your clit as he adds a second finger, your mouth falling open in a silent whine as he does. “And don’t bite back those moans, I wanna hear you.”

You nod up at him with wide, glassy eyes as his fingers increase in speed, making a crude noise as they drive into your dripping cunt. Azriel groans above you, cock hardening against your back as you squirm and moan. His fingers are unforgiving, allowing you no time to adjust as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. He looks away from you for only a moment, taking the chance to look at the two of you in the viewfinder next to the camera. The screen shows you sprawled out in front of him, staring up at him with glassy eyes as his shadows swirl around your waist and arms to keep you firmly against him. You look so fucked out already, desperate for more as his fingers pound into you. 

“Look at you,” he chuckles, turning back to actually look down at you, eyes trailing along your form. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, a moan falling from your lips as you grip his large thigh, squeezing it firmly to keep yourself in place. 

“Already so fucked out that you can’t even speak, huh?” he teases while tightening his grip on your throat to elicit a squeak of pleasure from your lips. “I haven’t even given you my cock yet, and you’re already a dumb little cockslut?”

“Y–Yes, yes, yes” you whimper, the words nearly a chant on your lips as you feel that familiar warmth winding up at your core. “I’m your dumb little cockslut, Sir. Just–Just wanna be your good girl and–and cum for you.”

It always amazes Azriel how easily you fall under a spell when he touches you, how easily you trust him with your pleasure like this. He smirks down at you, but can’t hide the adoration shining in his eyes as kisses your cheek gently, a stark contrast to his rough fingers in your heat and his skittering shadows holding you in place.

“So good for me, sweetheart.” he mumbles against your skin, nodding at you. “Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.”

His words are your undoing, making you fall apart almost instantly. Your body shakes as you cum, and you feel nothing but white hot pleasure as he continues his assault on your core. You can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as you tighten around his fingers, but you know Azriel is murmuring words of praise in your ear as he watches you writhe under his touch. He doesn’t relent when you come down from your high, fingers still pumping into you while his thumb circles your clit as you attempt to squirm away from him, but fail as his hand on your throat along with his shadows hold you in place. 

“P–Please, I–I can’t.” you cry out, eyes wide as you plead with the male and twist in his arms. “I–I wanna cum on your cock now, n–not your fingers, Sir. Please.”

Azriel smirks as you beg, but finally slows his fingers to a halt and releases your throat. 

“Since you were so good for me, I guess I can give you what you want.” he teases, repositioning you to sit in the middle of the bed once more, kneeling behind you this time. He kisses your shoulder as he tugs his boxers off, pulling at the silk strap of your slip. “Why don’t you take this off for me, sweet girl.” 

You nod mindlessly as your eyes wander towards the viewfinder, remembering that you’re not exactly alone in this scenario. A deep blush spreads across your cheek as you pull the slip over your head, catching a glimpse of your bare body on the screen. 

“So sexy,” you hear Azriel rasp out behind you, bringing you back to reality as he reaches for your hips, pushing your knees apart as he kneels between yours and presses your ass against his painfully hard cock. “You want my cock now, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.” you plead, craning your neck to look back at him again. 

He hums in approval as he kisses up your neck, stopping at your ear. His breath fans against your skin as his teeth graze your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine as you wait for his instruction.

“Go ahead and bend over for me,” he orders, watching you with lust-filled eyes as you bend at the waist, pressing your chest to the bed with your ass still pressed against his cock. 

Azriel’s shadows flick out then, tugging your hands to bind them behind your back, leaving you defenseless against the male behind you. He lets out a low groan as he takes you in, one hand kneading the fat of your ass as the other fists his length, teasing it between your folds slowly. You whine in response, craning your neck to look up at him with wide, needy eyes. The sight behind you is enough to make you fold immediately, enough to make you bend at any whim that he has. He’s staring at his cock with heavy-lidded eyes, arm and chest muscles flexed as he holds back the urge to slam into you right then. His wings droop slightly, but you can’t help but notice the way they twitch as his hips roll against yours. A moment later, he looks forward to meet your gaze, silently searching your eyes for any signs of hesitation, but finding none. 

“You gonna be a good girl and take what I give you?” he questions, raising a brow at you as your hips rock back against his once, twice.

“Yes, Sir.” you reply quickly, eager to see how he wants you. 

“Good girl.” he nearly purrs, voice low as he finally slams into you, cock filling you to the brim as you let out a small moan. “Fuck, always so tight.”

Azriel’s vice grip on your hips is the only thing holding you up as he fills you to the hilt, tip rubbing against your cervix with brutal force when he bottoms out. You can only cry out and take what he gives you as he picks up speed, just like he wanted. He smirks down at you, mind spinning as he takes you in; takes in how your ass bounces against his hips with each thrust, how your bound fists squeeze tightly behind your back, how your eyes brim with tears as you cry out in pleasure as he pounds into you.

“Gods, it feels like your cunt was made for my cock,” he remarks, squeezing his eyes shut to push off a premature orgasm. “You love when I fuck you like this, don’t you? You love being at my mercy and going dumb on my dick, don’t you?” 

“Yes, yes, I–I love it!” you nearly yell followed by a string of moans falling from your lips as a rogue shadow snakes around to toy with your clit. “F–Fuck, you’re so big, s–so full.”

“I know, sweetheart. You’re taking it so well, though.” he praises, continuing his punishing pace. “I know you can give me another orgasm, wanna see you fall apart on my cock.”

“I–I’m already close, Sir.” you admit, blushing as you peer back at him. “N–Need to cum, please.”

“That’s okay, baby.” he says gently, slamming his hips into you again as he slaps your ass lightly once. “You can do it, you can cum for me, baby.” he urges while his shadows press into your clit even more, “Cum on my cock, make a mess on my cock and I’ll reward you with my cum.”

The thought of him cumming in you spurs you on more than it should and before you know it, you’re cumming on his length, walls spasming around him feverishly as you cry out. Azriel curses under his breath as you do, only moments before he reaches his own climax, release coating your heat as his hips falter. 

You swear you almost black out as you come down from your high, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations flooding your body as Azriel slows behind you. Once he stills, you relax, a small whimper falling from your lips as his shadows retreat from your body and your hands fall to your side once more as the rest of your body relaxes. You don’t know how long the two of you stay there, and barely notice Azriel pulling out of you and sliding off the bed, quickly moving to turn the camera off before returning to your side. He sits down next to you, peering down at you lovingly as you blink at him slowly. 

“Hi, love.” he says gently, reaching over to push your hair out of your face.

“Hi, Az.” you reply tiredly, rolling over onto your side once you’ve caught your breath.

“You did so good for me, baby.” he coos before turning to the bedside table to grab the glass of water and washcloth he’d set out before you began earlier. “Take a drink for me.” 

You sit up slowly, taking the glass to take a long sip as Azriel runs the washcloth over you legs and core, cleaning the slick from your thighs. Your heart flutters as he takes care of you, falling more and more in love with the male with every second he spends focused on you. He looks up as you finish off the glass of water, taking it from your hand before kissing your forehead lovingly. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, genuine concern shining in his eyes, trying to decide if he missed any signs of your discomfort during the scene. 

“I’m great, Az.” you say with a veritable smile, cupping his cheek to pull him in for a quick kiss. “That was amazing, you’re amazing.”

You swear you see a blush pass across his cheeks at your compliment, a smile gracing his lips as he nods at you. “How about you get changed into something comfortable while I order us some Thai takeout, yeah? We can eat on the couch and watch your favorite movie, and I’ll even give you a massage if you want.” he suggests, leaning down to kiss you again. 

Your eyes light up at his suggestion, giggling happily at him, “You always spoil me,” you reply against his lips. 

“Only because you always deserve it.”

________________________________________

It took you a few days to get the courage to finally post the video to your page, but you finally did. Nesta convinced you that she would help you edit the video. She even went as far as offering to ‘shout you out’ on her page, which entailed you posing with her in a pair of skimpy lingerie to post on her feed. Azriel wasn’t happy about that at first, but didn’t try to stop you from doing it, knowing it would only boost your page and get more engagement for your video thanks to Nesta’s established following. 

You posted the video three days ago and essentially avoided opening the OnlyFaes app after that, scared to see the results of your scandalous endeavor. 

So, when you returned from your evening class, you didn’t expect to find Nesta and Cassian lounging on your couch with Azriel, seemingly celebrating something with a bottle of champagne. 

“There she is!” Cassian cheers when you walk in, grinning widely at you while reaching for a glass of champagne to hand to you. 

“What’s this for?” you question, hesitantly taking the glass as you take the seat on the couch next to Azriel, who leans over to press a kiss to your forehead in greeting.

“We’re celebrating,” Azriel murmurs against your skin, a half-amused smirk on his lips as he looks down at you when you furrow your brow, “Celebrating our success. The champagne was entirely Cassian’s idea.”

“Your video was a hit,” Cassian laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at you mischievously. “We just wanted to come say congrats.”

“Oh, it was?” you say, eyes widening as you reach for your phone quickly. 

“It seems everyone loved both you and Azriel.” Nesta interjects, watching you with a smirk as you navigate to your OnlyFaes app. 

You quickly open the app, noticing how the Notifications tab has a red bubble above it that says 99+ before clicking on your profile. Last time you checked, you only had one subscriber–Nesta’s account–and now you have over two thousand. You scroll down to the video, clicking on the thumbnail. The sight of 302,000 views makes your eyes widen once more, wondering how you missed all of the notifications from the apparently semi-viral video. Before exiting out of the video, the amount of comments catch your eye, urging you to scroll to see them.

faebae12: GODS he’s soooooo hot…and the way he looks at her!!! I need a male like this in my life.

daycourtbabygirl: his mouth is so fucking dirty and she’s SO sexy i need more of them ASAP

biggestwingspan9: came so fast. need someone to go dumb on my cock like this 

subslut1000: what i would give to be between them…so fucking good

sizequeen75: ohhhh my gods his cock is so big i need to be tied down with shadows and fucked like that

The sound of laughter finally pulls you from your trance as you sort through the endless comments talking about how much they love the two of you, you finally look up to see Nesta and Cassian staring at you expectantly. 

“I–I really didn’t expect this to happen.” you say sheepishly, blushing deeply as they continue to stare you down. 

“You need to have more faith in yourself,” Nesta chides, raising a brow at you, “This is just the beginning, and you’re already doing so well. You were so hot.”

“You–You actually watched it?” you stammer.

“Of course I did,” she chuckles, and Cassian nods next to her while elbowing Azriel encouragingly. “I think you look like a great time, and who knows, maybe we could collaborate someday when you’re more comfortable. I would love to do some more dom work alongside these two,”

Cassian smirks at Nesta in agreement and you expect Azriel to tense beside you, but he doesn’t. You look to him then, and he smirks down at you as well before kissing your cheek. 

“What do you think, love?” Azriel says, raising a brow at you, “Should we keep doing this and see where it takes us?” 

Your mind races as you take in the whole situation, letting the fact that you were actually successful with this escapade finally settle in. A smile crosses your face then, core heating at the thought of continuing to let Azriel fuck you on camera. It sounds insane, but you truly don’t care anymore, especially since you both enjoyed it so fucking much.

“Yeah.” you say with a wide grin, “Yeah, I think we should keep going.”

tag list (add yourself here!): @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout @buckingforbuckybarnes @thefandomplace @feyretopia @mad-hatters-lover @kissesfromnovalie @mulledwinetea @saltedcoffeescotch @mrsjna @chillymountsjess @azriels-human @messageforthesmallestman @delphinefour04 @kbear8863 @secretsicanthideanymore @randomgurl2326 @shushsstuff @caitm1 @eeniemeenie

[the-flaneur]

the enemy of my friend is my enemy, but he's also his own worst enemy? so he's my friend? (nr6) | pt1

pairing: nico rosberg x hamilton!reader [smau]

summary: in an attempt to plan a surprise birthday party for your brother's 39th birthday, you enlist the help of his ex-??? to get into his apartment

warnings: none (i think)

a/n: unfortunately, there are too many pics so pls await pt2 😙

[masterlist] [requests]

-> instagram

y/n.hamilton

liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg, mavxverstappen1 and others

y/n.hamilton guess who's backkkkkk....IT'S BRITNEY B*TCH 👀✌️

view all comments

user1 omg omg omg omg GUYSSSSSS i have been waiting for this day the entire year... SHE'S FINALLY BACK IN MONACO!!!

user2 i'm also in monaco rn, istg the stars are alinging for me to meet her !!!! 🤩 user 3 BRUHHHHH i wish that was me 😃😃😃 user4 i wonder why she's back though? user5 idk yk maybe to go see HER BROTHER WHO LIVES IN MONACO MAYBE???? 🙄

user6 i hope she hangs out with all the other drivers 😍 she wasn't at any of the gps this year

user7 i mean they're not really her friends, besides she was really busy this year user8 DID YOU JUST SAY THEY'RE NOT HER FRIENDS??? user7 i mean she's not the one driving in f1 is she 😐 user9 brother was not here for the grid x y/n shenanigans back in the 2010's user10 her and mark absolutely roasting the crap out of fernando and jenson for the grid penalty is still comedy gold user11 she basically adopted the entire grid after 2016, they're her babies 🤨 LIKED by maxverstappen1

lewishamilton i was not made aware of this????

y/n.hamilton sorryyyyy late flight arrangements???? 🥺👉👈 lewishamilton ok but where are you staying. i'll cancel it, you can just stay in my apartment y/n.hamilton no it's ok, i'm already staying with a friend :D lewishamilton wait whO lewishamilton don't IGNORE ME I KNOW YOU'RE STILL ONLINE user12 y/nnnnn 😭😭😭 user13 your honour they're literally the cutest yet most sibling siblings ever like girlie pop 🥲

user14 anyone else like see the nico rosberg like...or was that just me?

user15 ??? user14 ok maybe it was just me... lewishamilton what....? user16 bro's going detective mode now

friend1 Y/NNIEEEEE PLS GET ME SOME MORE CHOCOLATE FOR THE CAKE

y/n.hamilton shhhhhh you're ruining it already bro friend1 oopsie oh yeah, i forgot he actually follows you lmfao y/n.hamilton 💀 girlie plsssssss get some brain cells friend1 you stole all of mine :P user17 🤨🤨

-> instagram

y/n.hamilton

liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg, mavxverstappen1 and others

y/n.hamilton roscoe with his favourite auntieeee ❤️

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user18 GIRLIE AINT FOOLING ANYONE FOR A SECOND, WHO IS THAT MAN IN THE SECOND SLIDE

user19 wait what???? ur kidding, ur kidding - i am not seeing no man there? user20 roscoe's looking extra cute today ☺️ user21 him in that last slide looking at y/n is devious side eye user22 @/user18 BROTHER I GOT U, THERE IS NO WAY THAT'S Y/N'S LEG user23 also y/n would not be caught dead wearing chinos in bed, it's def a man 👀

user24 OK BUT THE REAL QUESTION IS WHO??? CAUSE LEWIS IS IN PARIS SO....

user25 nahhh it's for sure whoever y/n's seeing, no way would lewis let a random stranger near his child user26 i thought y/n's been single for a while??? she got a new boo? user27 idk maybe, i mean she's been pretty out of the spotlight this year, i wouldn't be surprised

user28 ARE WE JUST GOING TO IGNORE THE NICO ROSBERG LIKE???

user29 NO CAUSE LIKE HE ALSO LIKED HER LAST POST, ANDDDD THIS IS LIKE THE FIRST TIME POST-BROCEDES FALLOUT 😨 user30 guys i think lewis might just implode if he thinks that's nico rosberg sitting with roscoe user31 seeing by his silence, i think he already has...

maxverstappen1 can charles, lando i swing by after padel practice 😄 we wanna say hi

y/n.hamilton to me or the baby? 😔 maxverstappen1 im not abandoning my grid mum like this 🤨 only lando would, considering he's ruining the wdc narrative arc right now user32 y/n and max in 2016 was peak, especially after spain 😭 AHHHHHHH I MISS HER AT THE PADDOCK SO MUCH landonorris you snooze you lose verstappen, but i would also never abandon y/n :( y/n.hamilton lando.... landonorris i let him have the padel point mother 🥲

[next]

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[whorekneecentral]

Traditions

Carlos Sainz Jr x Fem!Reader

Warnings: loose version of spanish new years traditions (might not be accurate, I googled lol), carlos has wandering hands, red underwear means good luck, dirty texts, carlos sr is over his son and his nonsense, you and carlos are on grape prep, kitchen sex, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, 'whore' used in a sexual context, cumplay sorta, ana is over you two as well, midnight kisses.

Word Count: 1,839

Author's Note: sorry for the late upload, it's been a hectic day!

merry smutmas series

--

Coming back from Christmas with your family, the two of you return to Spain to celebrate new years with his family and all their traditions. 

The holidays were a big thing for the Sainz family, both Christmas and New Year's warranted a big party.

It's 8pm on New Year's Eve and you were getting ready for the party that would be starting in an hour. You're in your boyfriend, Carlos's bedroom, sitting at the vanity doing your makeup when he got out of the shower.

You can see Carlos's reflection in the mirror, the white, fluffy towel hanging off of his waist to the beads of water still dripping down his bare chest. "I can feel you staring." He says, walking over to you.

Rolling your eyes, you speak. "Admiring, not staring. I have manners, unlike someone." You teased, watching as his arms snake around you, hands pulling on the bow that kept your robe shut.

"Behave," you scolded him, swatting his hands away. Carlos ignored you. "You look beautiful, mi amor." He whispers in your ear, your cheeks now red and the same colour as your bra that was peeking out.

Seems Carlos noticed the same thing, undoing your robe to confirm what he saw.

"What's this?" He asks, admiring the red lace you were wrapped up in. He seemed a bit confused to see you in the red set, knowing that it was something that you kept solely for when he got good race results.

Your brows furrow, "do you not know? Your sisters say that red underwear brings good luck."

"You don't really believe that," he chuckled, walking off to get dressed. You roll your eyes, "as if you don't. Your mom told me about your Ferrari contract and the red boxers that you keep for special occasions."

Carlos peeks out from his closet, "she told you that ?"

"Of course, do you think we sit in silence when we have lunch?" You laughed, taking the curlers out of your hair.

At some point after that, you two ventured down to the party.

Things were well underway, Carlos's parents entertaining, his sisters with their husbands dancing around with a few friends.

Carlos had separated from you to talk about his racing season with a few of his cousins who had arrived to the party late while you were pulled into a conversation with his father and his colleagues. Your father in law liked to show you off, his arm over your shoulder as he tells all his friends that you were like another daughter to him.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, glancing at it to see who had texted you.

It was your boyfriend, the same man who had been making heart eyes at you all night long.

From Carlos: meet me in my room.

You rolled your eyes, knowing what he wanted but you shot him a quick reply anyways.

To Carlos: what for? can you not see that I'm busy ?

From Carlos: a quickie, what else? I can't take my eyes off of you.

You snorted a laugh, he was ridiculous; he acted like a horny teenager around you, despite the fact that he was 30.

Carlos Sr seemed to notice your little laugh, glancing over at you. "Que pasa cariño?" (what happened dear?)

You decided to give Carlos a mini heart attack, knowing he's looking at you right now. You show your phone to his father, his dad rolling his eyes at his son's behaviour, giving him a disapproving look from across the room.

Carlos Sr takes your phone from you, texting something you don't see until he passes the phone back to you.

To Carlos: ella está ocupada ahora mismo. (she's busy right now.)

Your lips pressed together, biting back a laugh as your father in law led you to the dance floor, his hand in yours as he spun you around. You indulged the man, dancing with him for a bit before passing him over to Blanca for the rest of the song.

Reyes finds you shortly after, her hand in yours as she drags you to Carlos, also grabbing her son by the wrist. The two of you exchanged a glance, a bit confused as to what was going on and unsure if you were in trouble for something. The woman takes you two into the kitchen, there are little bowls lined up on trays as well as 4 massive basins of grapes.

"I forgot to ask the catering staff to put these together, they've left for the evening. Can you two do it?"

Carlos nods, "of course, no problem."

They had a tradition, 12 grapes at midnight was a symbol of the upcoming 12 months and would bring you good luck.

You and Carlos were left to sort out the grapes, putting twelve of them into each bowl; you started lining up the bowls while Carlos was washing the grapes off in the sink.

The two of you split it up, as he dried them and put them back into the basin, you sorted and dropped the 12 grapes into the small bowls.

You were on the last set, Carlos was moving the ones that were done to the table by the door so it'd be easier for the guests to grab.

The man comes up behind you, arms around your waist, lips on your neck. His stubble poking at your skin, kissing it softly. You rolled your eyes.

"What do you want?"

"I can't give my girlfriend a kiss?"

"No," you scoffed, "a kiss is never a kiss with you."

Case in point; Carlos's hands wandered down from your waist to your hips.

"Carlos," you mumble, feeling his fingers meet your bare skin, the hem of your dress moving higher and higher with each passing second. "Don't," you warn him, the man ignoring you.

The grapes long forgotten, your hands gripping at the counter as you feel your boyfriend drop down onto his knees behind you, a trail of sloppy kisses on the back of your thighs.

“Carlos,” you call, “we shouldn't.”

“Don’t you want to?” He asks, fingers dancing along your skin. You let out a breath when you feel his lips on your thigh, soft kisses being peppered across the surface. “Of course I do.” You whispered.

“Then shut up,” he smiles, his head disappearing under the dress.

Your head falls forward against your arms when you feel his tongue on you, he’s yet to move your panties and you're already a mess.

He finally does, smiling to himself when he notices that it’s also red; matching the bra he saw peeking out the top of your robe earlier. “Fuck-” you breathe, fingers still gripping at the marble counters.

He looked up, fixed on you; your hair tossed in every direction and your head tipped back. He can see the necklace you have on, the 55 pendant hanging from it, the same pendant and necklace he gifted you all those years ago for your first Christmas together.

The man gets up, kissing you when he does. You can taste yourself on his lips, Carlos turns you to face him properly and pushes you back against the counter once again, your hand slipping between the two of you as you undo his pants. He pulls your leg to hitch on his hip, your panties already pulled to the side and your dress rolled up at your hips.

Please don’t let there be wrinkles you think, the thought being cut off when Carlos pushes into you. His lips find yours, muffling your moans as he fucks you. Your nails dig into his bicep, his shirt sleeve definitely wrinkled.

“Hold on,” he tells you, pulling out and you whimper at the loss of the fullness. Carlos turns you around and you get what he’s doing, letting you feel a bit more comfortable.

Soon enough, you’re bent over the counter, the last row of grapes discarded off to the side.

His hand is placed on your hip, holding you in place as he pushes into you, picking up the pace again. Your head drops down onto your arms and he didn’t like that. He pulls you up by your hair, your back arches and his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you up.

“You don’t want everyone to hear what a whore you are, do you?” He asks you, his lips against your ear.

You shook your head, knowing if you speak, you’d just be rambling incoherently. “Gonna cum for me, aren't you ? You’re my good girl.” He says.

He feels you clench around him and his hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again. “Oh my god,” your hips bucked, Carlos' fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of him.  

“C’mon amor, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more. 

He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body. A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge. 

He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. 

Without warning, Carlos pulls out of you and pulls you off the counter. You were confused as to what was happening, still in a post orgasm daze. 

The man has you on your knees, looking up at him. 

The dots connect the moment his cock’s pressed to your tongue and he watches as you circle your tongue around the tip. 

“Fuck,” he leans back against the counter, pushing your head down to take all of him in your mouth. His eyes are fixed on you, hand tangled in your hair as you take all of him in your mouth. 

The sight alone was enough to get him to cum and it did. 

You look up at him through your lashes as swallow. 

His hand finds your chin, leaning down to kiss you. “Good girl,” he mumbles against your lips. 

It takes you two a moment to re-situate yourselves, fixing your clothes and hair. You had Carlos wipe the counters down while you washed your hands rather thoroughly before finishing up on the grapes.

There's a knock on the wall, Ana peeking into the kitchen. "Mama wanted to know if you two got lost in here." She joked.

Carlos shook his head, "we were just talking."

Ana eyes your smudged lipstick and her brother's messy hair. "Hm, okay. Help me bring out the grapes?" She asks and you push past Carlos, ignoring his smirk as you helped her carry out the trays and pass out the grapes.

Shortly after, you find Carlos in a corner. You passed him a bowl of grapes and kept the other for yourself as you sat on his lap. One by one, you ate them until all 12 were gone.

The clock struck 12, the fireworks popping outside. "Happy new years, mi amor." Carlos whispered to you, kissing you softly.

Your thumb brushed over his cheek, "happy new years Carlos."

---

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[lupinqs]

PROLOGUE ━━ Beginning of the End

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 3.8K

☆ ━ warnings: small mention of homophobia, underage drinking, think that’s all idrk

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: hi!!!!! this is the prologue to my new hopkins p fic and i’m so excited cause it’s taken me so fucking long to actually get this whole fic cooked up but now it’s here and the chapters shouldn’t take too long to come out. anyways you could lowkey probably read this as a one-shot but i have so much more planned for paige and dani so if you wanna keep reading, just be prepared for lots of angst 😊

DANI CALLAN sits at the desk, curling the last remaining pieces of her hair, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface. It’s late May, and the warmth of the Minnesota summer is just beginning to set in, but the night air outside does little to soothe the sheer annoyance that has gripped the girl all day. Tonight is the last night she has with Paige before her best friend is whisked away for the summer due to her thousands of basketball obligations. And guess where they’re going?

A party.

A party. Dani fights the urge to scoff at the thought, jaw clenching.

Paige is excited, though. She’s been excited ever since her basketball buddy told her about it earlier this week, buzzing with energy. “It’ll be fun,” she said, her blue eyes shining with that infectious enthusiasm that makes Dani melt every time. “One last hurrah before I’m off to camps and Thailand and everything else.”

Dani tried to muster some enthusiasm, tried to match Paige’s smile, but she could feel her own fading before it ever really took hold. Because she doesn’t want to go to a party tonight. She doesn’t want to waste the precious few hours she and Paige have left together surrounded by a bunch of people they hardly know, shouting over music, drinking cheap alcohol, pretending to have a good time. Dani wants to be alone with Paige, have her best friend all to herself. She wants to talk. To laugh. To maybe, just maybe, get the courage to tell her what’s been weighing her shoulders down for months now.

But instead, they’re going to a party.

Dani sighs, turning the curling iron off as she catches her reflection in the mirror. Her hair falls in long, loose waves down her back, light makeup coating her face. She wears a simple tank top and jeans—nothing special. She doesn’t feel special tonight. She feels like she’s being cheated out of something, and she can’t even put her finger on what it is.

“Dani! You ready?”

Paige’s voice rings out from the hallway as she opens the door to her bedroom. Dani grabs her phone and looks up and over at Paige, who stands in the doorway with a radiant smile on her face. She’s dressed in all black—black leggings and a black long sleeve—with her favorite pair of lavender dunks on her feet. Her blonde hair’s been done up in its usual ponytail, and she’s got a little bit of mascara coating her lashes. She looks effortlessly beautiful, like she always does, and for a moment, Dani forgets all of her frustrations.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Dani lies, forcing a smile.

“Great, c’mon,” Paige says, grinning as she takes Dani’s hand, the pair of them leaving Paige’s house through the front door.

As they walk down the street, Dani can’t help but feel a pang in her heart. She’s grown up next to Paige, and this street, this neighborhood, has been their playground for as long as she can remember. Every corner holds a memory, every crack in the sidewalk a story. And, now, with Paige leaving tomorrow, Dani feels like she’s about to lose a piece of herself. Sure, after the summer they still have the entirety of their senior year together. But after that? Nothing. Because Paige will have summer sessions and be at UConn and become a basketball star and Dani will still be here. Of course, there’s been short, hopeful conversations about Dani going to Connecticut, too, so that they can spend their college years together. But Dani knows it’s unrealistic—her dad wants her to stay in Minnesota so she’ll stay in Minnesota. And Paige will be a thousand miles away, starting a new life that doesn’t involve her childhood best friend.

“Who’s all gonna be here tonight?” Dani asks as they walk along the sidewalk, trying to start conversation.

“Oh, everyone, I think,” Paige says, bobbing her head enthusiastically. “I mean, y’know probably like the same crowd from New Years. Maybe more, since some of Luca’s college friends are back. Ion know, prolly whoever’s in a five mile radius that’s wanting free booze. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

Dani nods and bites her lip, trying to swallow down her disappointment. “Yeah, fun,” she echoes, trying to sound convincing.

They walk in comfortable silence for a little while, Paige sometimes purposefully walking into Dani and making her stumble a little. Dani watches the blonde out of the corner of her eye, heart banging against her chest as if it’s a jail cell, forced to hold inside everything it longs to say. She wants to tell Paige that she doesn’t want to go to this party, that instead she wants to spend their night together, really together. She wants to tell Paige that the idea of losing her for three months—and then, once they graduate, for forever—has been tearing her apart inside.

But most of all, she wants to tell Paige that she loves her.

The thought has been haunting Dani for months now. It crept up on her slowly, in quiet moments and stolen glances, until now it’s become all she’s able to think about. She’s tried to push it down, tried to convince herself that it’s just a phase, just confusion. But the more she tries to ignore it, the more it seems to consume her.

Dani’s never been in love before. Sure, she’s dated boys in the past, liked them enough. But it’s never felt real, not like it does with Paige. Because Paige makes her feel alive in ways that no one else ever has. And that? That fucking scares the shit out of Dani. It scares her because she knows exactly how her dad would react if he ever found out. It scares her because she has no idea if Paige feels the same way. But most of all, it scares her because it’s not right—her liking another girl like this is wrong and it’s bad.

(Sometimes, though, it feels so right.)

And yet, tonight, with Paige leaving in the morning, Dani feels like she’s running out of time. Maybe tonight she can find the courage to say something—anything. Maybe tonight she can find the words.

(She doubts it.)

The party is already in full swing when Paige and Dani arrive. The house is packed with people, the music blaring so loud that the Callan girl can feel the bass thumping in her chest. The air is thick with the smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat, and Dani fights the urge to turn around and walk right back out the door. But Paige is already pulling her inside, their hands linked, her excitement palpable.

The pair make their way through the crowd, Paige greeting people left and right, voice loud and grin never wavering. Dani tries to keep up, tries to match her best friend’s energy—but she feels like she’s drowning in a sea of noise and bodies and it’s making her anxious.

It’s at times like these that Dani realizes just how different her and Paige are. Paige is outgoing and extroverted, a ball of energy and enthusiasm and it’s hard to ever keep her in a single place at once. She talks and talks and talks and she’s so charming she could probably make anyone fall in love with her. Dani’s the exact opposite. She’s introverted, preferring a small circle over a large one. She’s more withdrawn and quiet, and likes to listen instead of speak. She’s reserved and she doesn’t mind it—except when she’s at places like these.

“Hey, I’m gonna grab us some drinks,” Paige shouts over the music, leaning close to Dani’s ear.

“Okay,” the Callan girl nods, watching as the blonde disappears through the crowd.

Left alone, Dani takes a deep breath, glancing around the room. She recognizes a few faces, people from school, but none of them are close friends. None of them are Paige. She briefly talks to the boy that was her Chemistry partner for the majority of last semester, before excusing herself and gravitating towards a corner of the room, away from the chaos, where she can at least try to collect her thoughts.

As she stands there, watching the party unfold around her, Dani’s mind begins to wander. She thinks about how different things are gonna be this summer, without Paige. She thinks about the way Paige smiled at her earlier, how her touch sent shivers down Dani’s spine. She thinks about what it would be like to kiss her.

“Dani?”

She blinks, snapping out of her reverie at the sound of her name. She glances up to see Paige standing in front of her, two red solo cups in hand and a concerned expression painting her face.

“You okay?” the blonde asks, handing Dani one of the cups.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the girl replies, taking the cup and offering a weak smile. “Just… thinking.”

Paige’s concern doesn’t waver. “You sure? You seem kinda, like… Ion know, off tonight?”

Dani hesitates, the words on the tip of her tongue. She wants to tell Paige everything. She wants to pour out her heart right there, in the middle of this stupid party, and finally let her best friend know just how much she means to her. But the words don’t come, stuck in the back of the brunette’s throat. She can’t bring herself to say them.

Instead, Dani takes a sip of her drink—some sort of vodka lemonade, she thinks—and forces herself to smile. “I’m good. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess. Big party.”

Paige studies her for a moment longer, blue eyes searching her best friend’s face for answers. Then, she seems to accept it, her grin returning as she leans in closer.

“Okay,” she agrees. “But lemme know if you need a break, yeah? We can always go out back on the swings for a bit or somethin’—just you and me.”

Just you and me. Dani’s heart skips a beat at the words, and she feel the tips of her ears beginning to redden like they always do when she’s flushed. However, before she can respond, someone calls out Paige’s name from across the room. The blonde girl glances over her shoulder, her smile widening when she catches sight of who’s beckoning her.

“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t go anywhere,” Paige says, giving Dani’s arm a reassuring squeeze before heading off to greet some tall boy that Dani can only assume is another basketball player.

The brunette watches her best friend go, feeling a pang of disappointment settle in her chest. She’d been so close to saying something, so close to telling Paige how she really feels. But now, the moment is gone, swept away along with Paige, leaving Dani alone once again—albeit, with a drink this time.

The night wears on, and Dani tries her best to keep up with Paige’s energy, but it only seems to be getting harder and harder. Paige comes and goes, sometimes bringing Dani with her, sometimes not. She moves through the whole party, laughing and talking with everyone, her charming smile never faltering. For a while, Dani follows along with her best friend, almost like a lost puppy. It then dawns on her just how pathetic she is as she endures Paige’s conversations with basketball bro after basketball bro. Eventually, Dani can’t take it, excusing herself. As she walks away, it feels like it’s Paige slipping from her grasp, even though it was Dani that left the blonde girl’s side.

Dani finds herself in the kitchen, making herself another drink to keep busy. And then she downs it. And repeats the process. It makes things easier, more bearable.

She keeps going for far too long before a voice calling her name interrupts the ongoing process. Dani turns to see Thaliah Sommers, and, when her eyes set on the girl, her shoulders automatically relax and she breathes out a sigh of utter relief.

“Oh, thank God,” Dani whines, leaning into Thaliah and resting a head on the girl’s shoulder.

Thaliah has known Dani and Paige since the fourth grade, when the trio had to share a table for half the school year. It sparked a long-lasting friendship, and Dani and Paige would both probably tell you that other than each other, Thaliah is their best friend. And Jalen Suggs, too. Even though he goes to a different school, Paige and his basketball connection ended up becoming more genuine and the blonde had introduced the boy to Dani and Thaliah, which basically became history. The four clicked almost instantly, and they’ve been great friends since. But Dani knows Jalen isn’t here tonight—he’s out-of-state, for basketball. He won’t be back til the end of July, she’s pretty sure.

“You having fun?” Thaliah asks as she wraps a friendly arm around Dani’s side, letting the drunker girl lean on her. Dani shakes her head, pouting childishly. Thaliah chuckles a little at the sight. “Anxious?” she adds, knowing the Callan girl well.

“And disgusted,” Dani nods, watching a boy chug from a keg across the room, beer spewing around him.

Both girls laugh at the sight, and then Dani’s had enough, eyes flitting away from the scene to a different one. She wishes she would’ve kept her gaze on the boy instead. Because this is much worse.

Over, near the back door, Dani sees Paige. Paige Bueckers, clear as day, in the flesh. And she’s kissing someone. A girl. A pretty blonde girl that Dani doesn’t recognize. The sight hits Dani like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of her.

She stares in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest as she watches Paige pull the girl closer, their bodies pressed together, their lips moving in perfect sync. Dani digs her fingers into the side of her solo cup, crumbling it slightly; she feels like she’s going to be sick.

“Even more so now,” Dani mumbles, referencing her last comment.

Thaliah’s eyes widen, starting, “Dani—”

But Dani won’t hear it. She won’t hear anything. Without thinking, she turns and practically bolts from the house, her drink forgotten on the counter as she pushes her way through the crowd. She needs to get out of here. She needs to breathe. She needs to get as far away from that sight as possible.

The cool night air hits her like a splash of cold water as she stumbles out onto the front lawn, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Her mind races, a jumbled mess of emotions that she can’t untangle. She feels betrayed, hurt, angry, but most of all, she feels stupid.

So fucking stupid.

Stupid for thinking that Paige could ever feel the same about her. Stupid for believing she had a chance. Stupid for letting herself become enough of a mess to not only like another girl romantically—but for that girl to be her best friend.

“Dani! Danielle, wait!”

Paige’s voice calls out from behind the girl, and Dani feels her heart lurch. She doesn’t want to stop. She doesn’t want to face Paige right now, not after what she just saw. But her feet betray her, slowing to a halt as she reaches the sidewalk.

Paige catches up to her, slightly out of breath, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. “Dan, what the hell? Why’d you just run out like that?”

Dani turns to face the basketball player, and the anger she’s been holding back finally begins to boil over. “Why do you think, Paige?” she snaps, voice trembling slightly as she tries to keep her eyes from swimming.

Paige frowns, clearly taken aback by the venom in her best friend’s words. “I don’t know!” she replies, throwing her hands up. “That’s why I’m asking! What’s going on with you tonight?”

Dani lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “What’s going on with me? What’s going on with me? You seriously don’t fucking get it, do you?”

Paige’s confusion only deepens. “No, I don’t! Dani, please, just talk to me—what happened? What’s wrong?”

Dani clenches her fists at her sides, trying to keep her voice steady. “I just watched you make out with some random girl, Paige! That’s what happened! That’s what’s wrong!”

Paige’s eyes widen with realization, her baby blues flitting across Dani’s face in almost a panic. She takes a step closer to her best friend as she quickly says, “Oh… oh, shit, Dani, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Exactly!” the Callan girl cuts her off, her voice rising. “You didn’t think! You never think! You don’t think about anyone but yourself!”

Paige recoils as if she’s been slapped, her face falling. “Dani, that’s not fair…”

“Isn’t it?” Dani shoots back, anger spilling over once more. “You didn’t even care that this was our last night together! You didn’t care that I wanted to spend it with you, just the two of us! You only cared about going to this stupid party and kissing some random girl! Like I don’t even matter to you!”

Paige’s eyes fill with tears, and she reaches out to touch her best friend’s arm, but she jerks away. “Dani, please, that’s not true. I promise you it’s not. You matter to me more than anything. I just… I don’t know what to say.”

The brunette’s anger begins to wane, instead replaced by the overwhelming sadness that’s been building inside her all night. Her eyes swim and blur as her voice softens, shaking with emotion. “Then why does it feel like I’m losing you? Why does it feel like if I don’t hold onto you as tight as possible, you’ll slip away from me?”

Paige stares at her, eyes shining with unshed tears. For a long moment, neither of them say anything. The only sound is the distant hum of the party and the rustle of leaves with the breeze. Dani’s heart pounds in her chest, her pulse quickening with each second that passes.

Finally, Paige takes a deep breath and takes a step closer to Dani, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not losing me, Dan. I promise you, you’re not.”

Dani stares at her, vision blurred with tears, voice breaking. “Then why does it feel like I am?”

Paige stands still for a long moment, shutting her eyes tightly. When she opens them again, tears begin to spill down her cheeks. “Danielle,” she starts quietly, and Dani’s eyebrows furrow slightly at the usage of her full name. “Danielle, I have been in love with you since the sixth grade.” The statement makes the brunette’s eyes widen, jaw going slack, as her own tears finally begins to fall. “Remember when I got that concussion, at my game? You— you came to my house as soon as you found out, and you were crying at the thought of me being hurt. And I was the one that had to console you. And— and then you”—Paige sniffles and swipes a hand across her nose—“you kissed me on the head and told me that you would always take care of me. And that was when I knew. I knew that I loved you and that I could never ever really be with anyone that wasn’t my best friend, Danielle Lizzie Callan. I knew it then, and I—I know it now.”

Paige pauses, and then her voice breaks even more when she starts again, “But I’ve been so scared to tell you. I never thought you liked girls, I always thought you were straight. There was no way you could love me back, right? And I—I know how your dad feels about it all, and you know how long it took me to even tell you I liked girls because I was afraid that you felt the same way towards it that he did. And even when I found out you didn’t, I still thought that a girl being in love with you—that me being in love with you—would disgust you and you’d hate me for it. So I never said anything.”

Paige ducks her head as a sob cuts through her throat. Dani takes a step closer, reaching up to cup her best friend’s face in her hands.

“I don’t hate you, Paige. I could never hate you,” she tells the blonde sincerely, keeping her voice even. “And I could never hate you, because I’m in love with you, too.”

Before Paige can say anything, Dani leans in and presses her lips to the blonde’s. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if they’re both waiting for the other to pull away. Even if Dani feels her cross necklace begin to burn into her skin, she can’t stop. She won’t.

All the anger, all the hurt, all the confusion seems to melt away in that moment, leaving only the overwhelming relief of finally, finally knowing that Paige feels the same way. Dani keeps on kissing her, hands slipping from her cheeks to the nape of her neck as Paige’s hands find their way to Dani’s waist.

It isn’t perfect. It’s messy, and frantic, and a little sloppy, but it’s real. And it’s them.

When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathing hard, their foreheads resting together as they try to catch their breath. Dani feels like she’s floating, feels like she’s dreaming, and she doesn’t ever want to wake up.

“I love you,” Paige whispers. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Dani feels her heart swell up with so much happiness it might just burst. “I love you, too, P. So much.”

They don’t go back to the party. Instead, they go to Dani’s house, where they planned to have a sleepover anyways. The walk is short, and they do it hand-in-hand, swaying a little and giggling a lot. When they get to Dani’s porch and the girl begins to shuffle for her keys, Paige takes the opportunity to peck her neck from behind over and over and over again, whispering in the girl’s ear, “I love you.”

It’s so refreshing to hear Paige say it that, for a moment, Dani forgets about her keys and pulls her best friend in for another kiss on the mouth, closing her eyes and savoring it.

Eventually, they do get inside and find their way up into Dani’s bedroom. They change, and shuffle their way under the covers, bodies close, skin touching. Dani tries not to think about her father in the room beside hers, or the bible on her bedside table.

“I don’t want to leave you tomorrow,” Paige murmurs against Dani’s collarbone, sighing.

Dani’s heart slows at the thought, a deep pang, but she knows that there isn’t another option. “I don’t want you to leave either. But we’ll be okay. We’ll miss each other, but we’ll be okay.”

Paige nods, looking up and letting her eyes flit across Dani’s face as if she’s trying to memorize every detail of it. “Yeah, we will.”

(They won’t.)

[disneyprincemuke]

the other woman * mv1

everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour

notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO

(f1 masterlist)

your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.

he's late.

but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?

your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.

a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.

only for him not to show up?

this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.

because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.

you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?

you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.

you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.

only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.

fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.

you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.

it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.

it's your day.

a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"

"it's just me."

the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?

you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.

"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."

you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."

"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."

you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."

"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."

"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"

"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"

"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"

he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"

"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"

he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."

"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"

"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."

"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"

"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"

you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."

his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."

"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."

"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."

"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."

"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."

"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."

"you don't really mean that."

"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.

you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."

he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.

but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.

perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.

but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.

"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."

"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."

"please."

"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."

"i'm sorry."

"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.

[activesplooger]

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 | 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: (MDNI) hi so im a liar LOL. i said it was gonna be little bullet points but here I am with 3 whole ass stories just formatted with bullet points!!! budwfiwfiowjedfiwe enjoy

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Fluffy scenarios with Alastor: Coming home drunk, Dancing, and Getting Sick.

𝐂𝐖: fluff <3

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭!

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤:

You had a few too many one night during a friend's birthday party. Beforehand, you told Alastor things may run a little late into the day (as these events tend to usually go), so he expected you to be home later in the night

But what he didn’t expect was for you to come waltzing in at 2 am drunk off your ass.

Fumbling drunkenly with your keys, you manage to unlock the door to your and Alastor's room. The room is dimly lit as you walk in, gripping onto any furniture you can to keep you stable as you move.

As you go inside the room, a bright light emanates from the bedroom area. Curiously, you walk toward it.

"Alllllyyyy?" you call out in a sing-songy tone.

Reaching the bedroom, Alastor is seen sitting under the covers reading a book with a reading lamp clipped onto it.

He looks up at you and promptly closes his book, "Ah, there you are my dear!"

His eyes rake over your disheveled and intoxicated state, an eyebrow quirking up as his eyes meet yours, "I see you had a fun time..."

Honestly, you're too drunk to even pay attention to what he's saying. Your mind was elsewhere as he spoke, a sudden mischievous idea coming to mind.

A big dopey grin spreads across your face with glazed-over eyes.

"What's that look for darli-"

You cut him off and suddenly tackle him on the bed, a small "Oof!" coming from him as you land on him.

He sets his book on the nightstand and wraps his arms around you, pulling you up on him a bit more so you're laying on his chest

You start to doze off as you lay against him, the soft material of his pajamas relaxing you.

Alastor notices you nodding off and speaks, "No, no, let's get you out of these."

He tugs at the material of your shirt, "This is anything but proper sleepwear, is it, my dear?"

You grumble an 'okay' and kick off your heels somewhere off the bed

He helps you undress to your bra and underwear, keeping you laid on top as he does so

Alastor pulls the comforter over the two of you and holds you tighter against him, an almost possessive hold on you

"So," he begins, "your friend's little get-together was fun?"

"Mmmm yeah," you drowsily respond

"Good," Alastor kisses the top of your head, "I'm glad you had fun."

The next morning, you wake up with a throbbing headache. Your head is laid on Alastor's lap. Tilting your head up, you see Alastor sipping some coffee out of a red mug with the words 'Oh Deer' painted on it

"Ah, you're awake!" he says cheerfully, setting his mug down and grabbing a water and aspirin off the nightstand, "Here, take these."

You groan and bury your face back into his lap, you didn't have the energy to move

Sighing, he grabs your chin and gently lifts your head up.

Alastor then feeds you the aspirin in water, guiding you so you didn't accidentally choke

Once swallowed, he cradles your face, "Let me know if you need anything else, alright?"

"Alright"

He kisses your forehead and resumes cuddling you, enjoying the early morning and assisting you on whatever you needed

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠:

Tonight, Alastor was going to be taking you out!

He had instructed you to dress nicely since he'd be taking you out to a fancy place, though he didn't reveal exactly where. It was a surprise, how exciting!

You giddily get ready, putting on a new dress and your nicest pair of heels.

Putting the final touches onto your outfit, you head out into the lobby where the two of you agreed to meet

As you walk into the lobby, you see Alastor standing idly, glancing at the time on his pocket watch

The sound of your heels clicking against alerts him of your presence. His gaze meets yours as you walk toward him, quickly stuffing his watch into his pocket.

Alastor's ears perk up as he looks at you, his smile widening, "Mon cher, you look marvelous..."

Stopping in front of him, you do a little spin to show your whole outfit, his eyes raking over every inch of you

"New dress?" he asks

"Mhm, you like it?"

"Like it?" he grasps your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and placing a kiss on your knuckles "My dear, I love it."

"Soo, do I get to know where you're taking me now?"

"Nope! Nice try, darling."

The two of you grab a taxi and head to the mystery location. Despite your attempts to wear him down until he told you where you were going, Alastor didn't give in one bit.

The taxi eventually stops and Alastor gets out to open the car door for you

Stepping out, you see a large building with the faint sound of jazz music being heard from it.

"Ohh, a jazz club?"

Alastor nods, "That's right, my dear! A very nice one, might I add, the nicest in this ring of hell!"

You smile at his enthusiasm, flattered that he wants to take you somewhere as special as this. "Lead the way, my love," you say as you take his arm.

Alastor happily leads you into the club. The club was loud, bustling with various other demons who were dancing, drinking, and singing.

Alastor leads you to a booth and promptly orders you and himself a drink

The waiter jots down the order and comes back a few minutes later with two drinks

You both sip your drinks, chatting as you do so. As you chat, you notice his eyes occasionally darting off to the side at the dance floor. The first few times, you don't think much of it, but after a while, you start to catch on.

"You wanna dance?" you suggest

"Oh thank heavens, I've been waiting for you to suggest that since we stepped in!" he reveals

He jolts up from his seat and grabs hold of your hand, practically dragging you as he rushes over to the dance floor

Alastor wastes no time with this, quickly leading you into a swing danced that matched the fast pace of the music

You quickly lose your footing as you weren't actually ready for the advanced moves Alastor was pulling

He takes notice of this and chuckles. "Oh dear, you're about as light on your feet as an elephant!" he teases

"Hush!" you say defensively, a bit sheepish that you couldn't dance well

"Now now, no need to get defensive, just follow my lead."

Alastor slows down the pace, guiding you through the movements one at a time

You repeat this until you start to get the hang of it, pace quickening as your confidence grows

"That's it," he encourages with a bright smile, "you're a natural!"

He spins you around a few times as the song comes to an end

As the final note of the song plays, he dips you. His hands grip your waist in a firm hold, your arms around his neck as he holds you tight

The two of you kiss, tender lips meeting yours in a passionate embrace

Pulling back, your forehead rests against his, "Thanks for taking me out, love..."

"Of course! Anything for the woman I love."

"I love you," you say softly

"I love you more."

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤

The past few days, you've been feeling quite under the weather. However, you brushed it off as a simple cold to not worry Alastor, and still go to work.

Unfortunately, your "cold" had escalated to the point where your poker face couldn't hide how you were feeling. You felt (and looked) awful. Fever, chills, nausea, the whole package.

You wake up with possibly the worst headache you've ever had in your life. But, you relentlessly carry on.

You untangle yourself from Alastor's embrace carefully so you don't wake him up. If he woke up, you know he would immediately be able to tell that you're sick and make sure you wouldn't have to lift a finger.

But alas, you're a workaholic, and there was no way you're letting a "cold" get in the way of your plans! So, you take an Advil and try to push through.

You tip-toe to the bathroom, careful as to make as little noise as possible.

Honestly, you could care less about how you looked right now. You slathered on some makeup haphazardly and threw on whatever outfit that was deemed 'presentable enough' for work.

Hurriedly, you grab your keys and purse, stuffing a few Tylenol in your bag for later.

And just as you're about to make your great escape, you feel large hands gently grip your waist. Ah, shit, you were caught.

Alastor nuzzles your neck, his voice muffled as he speaks, "Leaving so soon?"

"U-Uh yeah," you stammer, trying to hide the nasally sound of your voice, "gotta get to work so- See ya!". You attempt to walk away, but his grip tightens on you and prevents you from leaving

"Ah ah ah, not without a kiss goodbye, my dear. Have you no manners?" he teases, lifting his head from your neck to look at you

Your head jerks away as to not meet his gaze if he saw you your cover would be blown!

His smile twitches, he knows something's up. Alastor's hand releases from your hip and grasps your chin, forcefully turning your head to look at him.

His eyes widen as he looks at you, concern evident on his face, "Something you wanna tell me, darling?".

"No..." you mutter.

Alastor gives you a 'cut the crap' look, and you finally give in, "Okay, okay, I may be a little tiny eensy bit sick...".

He releases you from his grip, exhaling softly, "That's what I thought. Now, go change into something comfortable and get back in bed."

"But-"

"No buts, darling," he says, walking towards the kitchen.

You huff as you begrudgingly change into some pajamas. Climbing in bed, you snuggle yourself into the comfy blankets and watch Alastor grabbing various items from the other rooms.

He comes back in after a few minutes and sets down some medicine, tea, and makeup wipes beside you on the bed.

Alastor opens the makeup wipes and gently removes the makeup from your face, "I'm just want to ensure you're fully relaxed, dear. Don't think of this as a punishment."

"I know I know... I just don't like being unproductive."

He sighs and discards the makeup wipe, "I understand, but you're in no condition to be out and about."

Alastor grabs a pill bottle before asking, "Did you already take some medicine?"

"I took an Advil" you reply.

Alastor glances at the clock on the wall, "Alright then, I'll give you another in about 5 hours."

You nod as he sets the tea on the nightstand beside you. He moves over to the empty space next to you on the bed and spoons you from behind. His arm wraps around your waist, legs tangling with yours.

"Ally, don't, you're going to get sick-" you protest.

He huffs, almost offended at the notion, "I don't care if I get sick, that's not going to stop me from being close to you

Alastor spends the rest of the day nurturing you, being by your side for whatever you may need or want

--

ENJOY!!! guys sos i genuinely can't tell the difference between fluff and just like situations ig LOL. im trying to work on my fluffy skills

btw im having a bit of a mental crisis soooo.... i may be posting a lot. i tend to write more and generally be online more (def not shutting down I swear!!) when im not doing too great. so yeah.

[goldfades]

★ YOU AND ME, WE'D BE A BIG CONVERSATION─── PB⁵ (part 1/3)

❪ requested -> "paige x famous!reader (singer, actress, up to u) inspired by endgame by ts where p reveals that r is her celeb crush in an interview and a few days later theres a vid of r responding to it saying shes been obsessed w paige lately / its such a big deal bc r has been involved in a lot of romantic drama lately so everyone is kinda iffy abt her rn, causing her to put up a tough guard. but p sees thru the facade when they start talking and allows her to be herself, making r fall even harder 🥹 " ❫ for my disco nonnie!

─ warnings | gossip, a lot of drama and random ass names (sorry i get confused when i don't name them), mention of panic attacks, hurt to comfort, pretty sure nothing else?

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

"Y/N L/N, ONE OF the biggest names right now in the music industry has found herself at the center of yet another romantic scandal involving her ex and now, reportedly a new lover."

The 22-year-old pop sensation, who recently topped the charts with her latest single, was spotted last night leaving an upscale Los Angeles restaurant with actress and heartthrob, Camilla Harrison. The two were seen getting into the same car, sparking rumors of a budding romance.

This sighting comes just weeks after Y/N's highly publicized breakup with fellow musician Lauren Marie, with whom she had a tumultuous on-again, off-again relationship for over two years. The split was reportedly mutual, with both parties citing busy schedules and the pressures of their careers as contributing factors. However, sources close to the couple suggest that Marie was unhappy about Y/N's close friendship with Harrison, which began on the set of her recent music video where Marie made a cameo appearance.

"Y/N and Cam have undeniable chemistry," says an insider. "They've been spending a lot of time together, and it's more than just a professional connection. They're trying to keep things low-key, but it's clear there's something more than friendship between them."

Despite the drama, Y/N continues to thrive professionally. Her upcoming album set to release in the next couple month, is already generating significant buzz. Critics are calling it her most mature work yet, with deeply personal lyrics that reflect her recent experiences.

Meanwhile, Harrison, 26, known for her roles in blockbuster films and her good looks, has remained tight-lipped about the rumors. Her publicist declined to comment, stating that Marie is concentrating on her upcoming film projects.

──

"Okay, next question," the reporter smiled as she scrolled through her phone as Paige gave a tight-lipped smile toward the camera. "Oh! Found a good one, okay. Who is your celebrity crush right now."

"That's easy!" Paige laughed as she glanced toward the reporter. "Y/N L/N, she's beautiful and insanely talented,"

The room filled with laughter as the reporter raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted by the response. "Y/N L/N, huh? That's a popular choice these days, a lot of people are big fans. Have you met her?"

Paige shook her head, her cheeks slightly flushing. "Nah, I wish. But I'm a huge fan of her music. Every song is a masterpiece and I'm not usually into pop,"

"Interesting," the reporter leaned forward, intrigued. "You know, there are rumors about Y/N's love life all the time. How do you feel about all the speculation surrounding her personal life?"

Paige shrugged, maintaining her relaxed demeanor despite the stupid question. "I think it's tough being in the spotlight like that. People forget that celebrities are human too. Everyone deserves a bit of privacy, I'm more interested in her work and what she brings to the music industry rather than whoever she's dating."

The reporter nodded, appreciating Paige's perspective. "Absolutely. It's refreshing to hear someone focus on the artistry rather than the gossip!"

──

"Okay, quick. Who's your celeb crush right now, other than Cam," Bowen Yang, grinned at you, raising an eyebrow as the audience laughed, eagerly awaiting your response.

You laugh (and decide to ignore the comment about Cam), feeling a slight blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, come on, Bowen, you can't put me on the spot like that!"

Bowen leaned in, his grin widening. "Come on, Y/N, the people want to know!" He pointed to the crowd as they cheered, causing you to put your face in yours hands.

You then take a deep breath, pretending to think hard. "Fine, if I have to choose... I'd say Paige Bueckers. She's incredible on the court, and I've seen some interviews with her ─ she seems like such a cool person."

The audience erupts with loud cheers, causing both you and Bowen to laugh. Bowen's eyes widen, clearly delighted by your answer as he clapped. "Ooh, scandalous! Paige Bueckers, I love that! Have you met her?"

You shake your head, smiling. "No, not yet. But I did see a clip of her saying some really nice things about me recently. It was super sweet."

Bowen's face lights up with excitement. "She was practically gushing over you, this is perfect, we need to make this happen. Maybe you could collab, I don't know how but uh, if anyone could make it happen, it's you."

"Thank you, I think?" You laugh, nodding. "Totally, we'll see what happens."

Bowen turns to the camera, his enthusiasm infectious. "You heard it here first, folks! Y/N and Paige Bueckers, the crossover we never knew we needed but now desperately want!"

The audience erupts in applause and cheers, and you can't help but smile at the idea. Bowen turns back to you, his tone shifting slightly more serious. "Alright, before we wrap up, I have to ask ─ how do you deal with all the attention and rumors about your personal life? It seems like you're constantly in the spotlight."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, caught off guard by the serious question. "It's um, definitely challenging at times, but I try to focus on the positive aspects. I love making music and my fans. As for the rumors, I just remind myself that I can't control what people say or think. I stay true to myself and the people who really know me, and that's what matters most."

Bowen nods appreciatively. "Wise words, Y/N. And that's why we love you so. Thank you so much for being here tonight."

"Thank you for having me," you reply, genuinely touched by the support.

"And that's Y/N L/N!"

The crowd erupts in cheers as you genuinely smile, happy for the support, waving toward the audience.

──

"Hey everyone, welcome back to the podcast I'm Lila, and today we've got a lot to talk about. Y/N L/N is at the center of yet another romantic scandal, and there's even a new twist involving basketball star Paige Bueckers. Let's dive in!" Lila said, her enthusiasm palpable.

"Yaya, so excited," Maya chimed in, adjusting her headphones. "So, Y/N was spotted last night leaving an upscale LA restaurant with actress Cam Harrison. They got into the same car, which has everyone buzzing about a possible new romance."

"Yeah, and this is just weeks after her very public breakup with Lauren, I think that's her name? It's been a whirlwind, to say the least. But honestly, I think Y/N is handling it all pretty well. She's focused on her music, and she's just living her life. What's your take, My?" Lila asked, leaning in slightly.

Maya sighed, her skepticism evident. "I don't know, Lila. I get that she's young and living her life or whatever, but it feels like there's always some new drama with her. First Lauren, now Cam Harrison? It's starting to look like a pattern."

"But that's thing, with being in your early twenties. Figuring out what you want, who you want to be with? I mean, she's also incredibly talented and driven. Her new album is generating a ton of buzz and it hasn't even been released yet," Lila countered, her voice full of admiration.

"Sure, but it seems like she's always entangled in some romantic drama. Maybe it's just the nature of fame or whatever, but it can also come off as messy. And now, with Paige Bueckers gushing about her in that interview, it adds another layer. I just hope she’s not stringing people along," Maya replied, her tone annoyed.

Lila nodded, annoyed at Maya's words but maintaining her supportive stance. "I get where you're coming from, but did you see Paige's reaction? She was genuinely excited about Y/N. It was sweet. Plus, Y/N responded so positively on the SNL interview. I think it shows she's got a good heart and she's just navigating her way through a complicated life!"

Maya hesitated for a moment as she glanced at the camera, then continued. "I mean, look at Taylor Swift. She's known for her string of high-profile relationships and breakups, and it hasn't always been received positively. It feels like Y/N is heading down a similar path- What?"

"Come on, Maya!" Lila glared at her, clearly displeased. "Comparing Y/N to Taylor Swift isn't fair. Taylor's faced a lot of unfair criticism for just living her life and expressing herself through her music. Y/N is her own person, with her own journey. She's navigating her twenties in the spotlight, and that's not easy."

Maya just shrugged as she glanced toward the camera, before adjusting her mic. "Well that got awkward, moving on..."

──── COMMENTS

sela 🐾 | is she wrong though... love her music but why'd paige gotta get involved too? ♡ 108

↳ l/nslover | cause they like each other???

↳ 🦕 | has bro ever heard of a pr relationship 😭

↳ ari! | THEYRE NOT EVEN TOGETHER YET BROOO😭😭😭

sarah™️ | LILA GET THE HELL OUTTA THERE BROOOO 😭😭 i never liked maya tbh this is just a weird ass take ♡ 1.7k

kayla 🎀 | listen as a y/n girly i also understand maya's point of view cause.... shes kinda for the streets ♡ 879

↳ ™️ | dont call yourself a """"" y/n girly """""" if ur gonna say she's for the streets??? the fuck??

⭐️ | i was understanding maya's pov up until she started saying all that taylor swift bullshit, they're two separate artists LET US LIVEEEEEEE ♡ 2k

josie may | hardest watch of the day 🥲 maya u let us down with that dumb ass take

──

"I just kinda... wanna disappear for awhile," you confessed, your voice quiet as you pressed the phone to your ear. "Don't know why this keeps happening, you're the only that can... help me through it. Sorry if I woke you up-"

It happened again ─ over the last couple of months (ever since you'd broken up with Lauren) you'd gotten pretty severe panic attacks. You were told by everyone on your team to just stay off social media and what had you done... exactly the opposite of that.

"No, no, I was awake anyway, promise," Paige's voice echoed through the phone. You heard shuffling through the phone as you sniffled, sighing. "And I don't mind, like at all. I meant what I said, I'm always here for you,"

Your heart swelled as you managed a smile, as tears began to build in your eyes. You and Paige had only been talking a month and she already understood you more than anyone had in what felt like forever. Her steady presence was like an anchor in the storm of your life.

The constant media scrutiny and the aftermath of your breakup with Lauren had left you feeling alone, but Paige’s calming influence was slowly becoming your safe haven.

"I just... I don't know how to deal with all of it. The rumors, the pressure, it's all so overwhelming," you admitted, wiping away the tears that had started to fall. "Half of it, it isn't even true."

"Hey, it's okay, I know, I believe you," Paige's voice was soothing, almost like a warm embrace over the phone. Even the smallest affirmation from Paige made you feel all okay again, even if it was just for the moment.

"You're not alone in this. We can figure it out together, step by step."

That part made your lips twitch up in a smile, feeling yourself relax again. You took a deep breath, feeling a bit of the tension ease from your shoulders. "I just feel like I can't breathe sometimes. Like the walls are closing in, y'know?"

"I get it," Paige replied softly. She'd know about it all too well, she'd been through it herself plenty of times. "Sometimes it helps to focus on the small things. One step at a time, remember? Have you tried any of those breathing exercises I taught you?"

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "Yeah, a little. They help, but it’s hard to remember in the moment."

"Next time you feel a panic attack coming on, call me. Anytime, okay? We'll get through it together," Paige's voice was firm, reassuring. "You don't deserve the shit they give you, like at all."

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling a surge of gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you, P."

"You don't have to thank me. I care about you, and I wanna help. Plus, I like hearing your voice," Paige added with a light chuckle, trying to lift your spirits.

You couldn't help but smile at that. "Me too, especially your cute tired voice."

"Cute, really?" Paige laughed through the phone and you swore you felt like your whole world felt even again. "But uh, if you do really wanna disappear you can always come to Connecticut."

The thought of escaping the relentless spotlight, even for a little while, sounded like a dream. "Really?"

"Yeah, you can stay with me for a bit, if that's uh... what you want." Paige explained through the phone. "My friends are super chill and it's always a fun time, if you ever wanna come. Think about it?"

The idea of spending time with the basketball player you'd quickly become enthralled with, seemed almost like a dream. And getting away from LA and all the madness that came with it sounded heavenly, you were going to give Connecticut a thought.

You sighed, feeling a warmth spread through you that had been absent for far too long. "Yeah, I will. And Paige?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. Really."

"Anytime, Y/N. Sweet dreams."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[mrslaflour]

📸 cheese babe.

pairing — taehyun x reader

warnings — noncon filming, restraints, reader is drugged tf out, taehyun totally just cum shotted all over reader, somnophilia things but no sex scene, didn’t proof read shit, all lowercase

notes — VERY QUICK DRABBLE. yes, yes i did post this before grape party kai. this is a tiny drabble to hold you over that i just scribbled down basically :p.

you feel numb. tingles spreading throughout your whole body but you can’t move a single muscle. your eyes can only part slightly, everything else remaining blurry. god, how late is it? was this just another late night nap? you hear a click and then a bright flash come through your eyes causing you to groan.

“you’re awake?”

another voice. in your room? you live alone. you go to speak up but nothing comes out. nothing can come out. it’s like your tongue is just dead and your lips refuse to fully part. you go to sit up but even that task isn’t possible. your arms are stuck behind your back, you finally notice that. but still. you should be able to lift your chest. now you’re worried and your breathing becomes heavier and more strained. it wasn’t until you felt a cold hand press against your chest that you realized you probably were naked. you say probably considering that fact that you can’t move your head to look and you can barely see out of your eyes in the first place.

“you’re my muse for the night. you’re drugged the fuck out though, so if you’re freaking out due to the sensory issues, there’s your answer.”

a man’s voice. that’s all you could get out of what he just said. well, other than the fact that he definitely either kidnapped you or has you out in the back of an alley, once again, you’re literally in the dark. it’s starting to even become difficult to think straight. he moves his hand from your chest and brushes a hair behind your ear.

“i’ll show you the pictures when i’m done and well, when you’re not so out of it.”

he moves away and you hear a few more clicks and see a few more flashes. your eyes shut, and you decide to keep them like that. you feel him push you onto your back and spread your legs open. feeling an extremely cold breeze against your sex. you hear him mumble a few things, but you can’t make them out.

“can you smile?”

it’s silent. you can’t respond and he just laughs. you feel what feels like a giant weight on top of you and two fingers prodding at the corners of your mouth pushing it into a smile and the click of his camera again. that noise was gonna drive you crazy. you feel his arms move lower and start rubbing your sides and gliding through your collarbone.

“i could really have my way with you right now. don’t have to worry about you bitching, screaming for me to stop, pushing me away…”

he pauses.

“but that would be too easy. a struggle is always fun.”

he slaps you and tilts his head to the side with a questioning look on his face.

“could you feel that? are you still there?”

you slightly open your eyes and the tiniest tear pokes out. he hums in content.

“assuming you can hear me, just know you shouldn’t piss me off. i’m not afraid to kill you. it’s not hard for me to find someone new.”

he stands up off of you and you close your eyes again once the camera flash blinds you again. you feel him go to mess with your wrists and the slightest bit of tension seems to be released. he has a hold on one of your wrists and moves it over to your crotch and your other hand to your breast. moving you around like a doll.

“say cheese…”

another click. another flash.

“you look like a fucked out drunk little bimbo. i should live stream this and have people tell me what i should do to you. would give me some more ideas of what positions to put you in for my photos.”

you’re passed out. well…not completely. you can feel everything he’s doing, hear everything, but you can’t think anymore, and you can’t even open your eyes anymore. more tingles bouncing throughout your body.

the sound of a different button can be heard as well as the sound of the camera being placed on the floor. you hear his footsteps come closer to you and the sound of a zipper.

“i know i said it’d be too easy but i have plenty of chances to let you play hard to get after this.”

you hear him groan a couple times before you feel something cold dripping on your stomach and slowly moving up to your face.

“what a shot. can you say cheese for the video?”

he leans down and you feel his hand touch your face before he moves your face on its side. presumably so you can face said camera. you then feel full all the sudden. a sense of splitting in you and you groan. the feeling starts to become painful.

“sh, just lay there and look pretty and let me do all the work.”

he goes deeper in you as he moves up more so he can put his finger on the corner of your lips and moves it up into a smile again.

“say cheese!”

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART VIII

— i love you, it’s ruining my life

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). angst!!! cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hello besties, here's the next part!! happy reading <3

masterlist!

Pedro hadn’t expected his career to take another sharp turn so soon after The Mandalorian. The call he received that night in January, while lying in a dimly lit hotel room in London, still felt unreal. Hazy, thanks to the Ambien coursing through him, but real enough to make him sit up in bed after the line went dead.

Something big was coming, and he could feel it in his bones. It would change everything—if things weren’t already good enough as they were.

A few weeks later, he was back in London to film The Bubble. Everything seemed to blur by—filming, meetings, and the quiet rhythm of his life with Julia. He hadn't expected to fall into a relationship so effortlessly, but here he was.

She was a producer he’d met during a project in Budapest, though nothing had happened between them until months later.

Late November, to be exact. By then, things had shifted.

Pedro was never good at deciphering if someone liked him or not, and maybe that was why, when she suggested coffee, he didn’t think twice. She was lovely—kind in a way that didn't feel overwhelming, and he liked the way it felt safe, uncomplicated. When she reached for his hand, the world didn’t spin beneath his feet, and that was comforting. It was normal, and maybe that’s exactly what he needed.

After that first coffee, there were more—turning into casual dinners, casual sex, easy conversations, and eventually, a steady progression toward something more.

By December, things had gotten serious, though Pedro still sometimes woke up disoriented, feeling as if he was living in someone else’s life. Julia kept him grounded. And though it wasn’t the kind of love that made him lose his breath, it was steady.

One morning, in early December, he woke to find a message from you. You’d mentioned him in an upcoming Vogue interview, a brief nod to his help in keeping you sane during those first chaotic months of the pandemic. Your publicist thought it might make a fuss for a while, and you didn’t want him to wake up and think someone had died or something.

Nothing too big, P, just the usual storm. Call when you’re back in the States. Miss you.

Pedro stared at the message for a long time, debating. You’d always known everything about him. Every high, every low. But now? There was Julia to consider. He sat on the edge of the bed, Julia still asleep next to him, the London sky a dull gray through the curtains. He’d thought about telling you about her for weeks—maybe he should’ve before New Year’s—but it was easier to let the conversation slip away.

Until it didn’t.

That night, at Oscar’s New Year’s party, when you found out about Julia, he could see it in your eyes—the hurt, the shock, the confusion. You didn’t say much after that. Just told him you hoped he was happy, and if he was, that would be enough.

But it didn’t feel enough.

Not then, not now.

•••

Back in London, the routine of it all began to suffocate him. He spent his mornings reading lines, drinking bitter coffee, and answering the inevitable buzz of questions about his relationship status. He didn’t care to comment. He didn’t want to make it official in a way that felt like another announcement to the world. His job was to act, not live his life on a stage. Still, the headlines rolled out, and his relationship with Julia became another topic of conversation.

The days passed in a blur, but something bothered him. You had gone silent. Completely. Not only from his life but from social media, from the public eye, from everywhere. He called on your birthday. Oscar had mentioned you hadn't planned anything for the day, not that he knew off, and Pedro found himself standing on the cold balcony of his hotel room, dialing your number with a strange urgency.

You picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

Your voice sounded far away, thin and almost unfamiliar, like a melody he had forgotten.

“Hey.”

There was a beat of silence, a pause where recognition should have clicked into place. Instead, you sounded distant, hesitant.

“Oh. It’s you.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. Did you delete my number?”

A soft shuffle on the other end, like you were shifting in place, caught off guard. “No, uh, I just picked it up without looking who it was.”

He leaned against the railing, gripping the phone tighter as if it could bridge the distance between you. The cold metal beneath his fingers bit into his skin, grounding him, though your absence felt like it was growing by the second. "Happy birthday, mi amor."

“Thank you, Pedro.”

The way you said his name, the clipped tone, made something stir in his gut, but he shook it off.

“You doing anything? I heard you didn’t have plans.”

“Nothing really, maybe over the weekend,” you replied, but there was a softness in your voice that didn't match the words, like you were choosing them carefully, holding something back. “I know you’re in London; that’s why I didn’t—”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t call,” he interrupted, leaning against the cold railing. His free hand found his hair, fingers tugging at the strands, trying to steady the unease creeping in. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been... You know how it is.”

Another long pause. For a moment, all he heard was the faint rustling on the other end, like you were curled up somewhere small, the space between you both stretching impossibly wide. He didn’t notice the silence for what it was—didn’t notice the way it wrapped around your words, cloaking the pain underneath.

“I do,” you whispered. It wasn’t an agreement; it was resignation. "Listen, I have to go. Say hi to Julia for me."

You hung up quickly, the words leaving him cold. The last part stung in a way he wasn’t expecting.

Days turned into weeks, and though you stayed in touch here and there, your conversations felt different. Lighter. Less personal. He tried not to let it bother him, but it did. The less he tried to think about you, the more you occupied his thoughts, living in the corners of his mind where you had always been. It felt like torture, the way your presence always lingered even in your absence.

When Pedro finally posted about landing the role of Joel Miller, the flood of congratulations came pouring in, but only one comment left him reeling.

So happy for you!!! You’re gonna kill it.

It was from you. Simple, encouraging, and yet it twisted something inside him.

His birthday arrived not long after, and he found himself back in LA, where his friends greeted him with a backyard party under the stars. Sarah held a cake with a single candle, and as everyone cheered, Pedro smiled, but there was an immovable weight in his chest.

Later that night, after the crowd had dispersed, he and Julia escaped upstairs to his room. They ended up half-dressed, tangled on his unmade bed. She smiled at him afterward, her gaze hazy with affection. “Happy birthday,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest.

Pedro wanted to stay in that moment, to let it be enough, but his mind wandered. He had that feeling of wanting to be trapped in one place, wanting to dig his heels in. It didn’t need to matter that that reality was waiting for him outside the door. It didn’t need to matter that you hadn’t called.

April 11, 2021

London, England

Pedro’s mood had been darkening for weeks now, but if Julia had noticed, she didn’t say a word.

She’d taken on a slew of new projects, coming home late most nights, leaving him to his thoughts and the silence that clung to their flat like fog. Pedro found himself pacing the empty rooms when she was gone, unsure where to place himself in her absence. He felt the weight of insomnia closing in again, the recognizable ache behind his eyes making the hours stretch painfully long.

That day, however, his focus had shifted. He was set to present Best Foreign Film at the BAFTAs, and his stylist had dressed him in a Prada tuxedo coat, a crisp white shirt, and skinny-fitting suit trousers. He looked sharp, elegant even, and for the first time in days, Pedro felt something close to confidence.

He and Julia arrived at the event together, but they didn’t pose for pictures side by side. Still, photographers captured fleeting moments—Julia holding his hand as they stepped out of the car, a quiet laugh between them under the canopy of flashing cameras. By the next morning, their images were all over social media, sparking the inevitable buzz about their relationship.

Pedro ignored most of it.

Two days later, while sharing a quiet breakfast in a cafe with Julia, he opened Instagram out of habit, and your face appeared.

There you were, standing in the middle of some forest, your expression serene. The caption read: Surprise. A new album drops at midnight. In isolation, my imagination ran wild, and this is the result—stories and songs that flowed like rivers. I hope you love it.

The post had already gathered thousands of likes and comments, and Pedro’s chest tightened as he stared at the screen. The timing of it all was almost cruel, but it was the impact of your sudden reappearance that left him reeling. You had vanished from the public eye for so long, and now, with no warning, you were back.

That night, Pedro lay awake next to Julia, the persistent itch of insomnia dragging him out of bed. He moved quietly so as not to disturb her, slipping his earbuds in as he stepped onto the hotel balcony. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled up your new album. He hesitated for a moment, but he pressed play anyway.

For ten songs, Pedro was transfixed. Your voice wrapped around him, haunting and familiar, weaving tales of heartache and isolation. There was a rawness to your words, an unflinching honesty that pierced through the midnight air. He listened intently, picking apart the lyrics, wondering if they were about him, if the pain you sang about was shared between you. It felt like an open wound, and yet he couldn’t stop listening.

Each song was a confession. Each melody a letter never sent.

When it ended, Pedro sat in the dark, overwhelmed. The emptiness gnawed at him, and all he wanted was to call you, to talk, to hear your voice. But he didn’t.

A couple of weeks later, he found himself shamelessly googling you again, hoping for something—an interview, a post, anything—but there was nothing. You had gone silent after the album drop.

No promo, no press. Just the music and then nothing. He congratulated you once, a brief message saying how beautiful the album was. You replied with a simple, “Thank you. It means a lot.”

That was it.

July 10, 2021

Alberta, Canada

Pedro arrived in Alberta at dawn, the skies painted in soft hues of pink and orange. The cab ride to the hotel was quiet, his agent and hairstylist riding with him as they prepared for the long months ahead. Filming for The Last of Us was finally starting, and though Pedro was eager to begin, a deep nervousness tugged at him.

Julia hadn’t come with him this time, staying back in London for her own work. She promised to visit, but Pedro wasn’t sure how often. In her absence, he felt that familiar loneliness creeping in, the kind that terrified him, mostly because it left him alone with thoughts of you.

He checked into his room and sat heavily on the sofa, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes until his vision blurred. He needed to eat, to call his family, to ground himself in something, but instead, he grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and settled back into the couch. His fingers hovered over his phone again, the compulsion to check your Instagram pulling at him like a bad habit.

But, like always, there was nothing.

Your only other post had been a month ago, thanking your fans for the love on the album. He had messaged you a couple of times—small, inconsequential exchanges that left him unsatisfied. He didn’t know what he was searching for in those brief interactions, but whatever it was, it felt futile.

Then, ten minutes later, like a sign from the universe, you shared an interview. A video with you talking about your creative process. Pedro couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed his laptop, another beer, and settled in.

As he watched, he couldn’t help but stare at you. You looked radiant, sitting across from the interviewer in the backyard of your California home. The conversation was easy at first, touching on the album’s success, but then it turned more personal.

"The pandemic was really rough, and also life in general, I guess," you said, your voice quiet. "I found myself post-breakup, isolated in a cabin in Calgary, and writing was all I had. But the inspiration wasn’t just from that breakup. It came from years of… things."

The interviewer asked gently, "You mean the breakup with your most recent ex specifically?"

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes dropping for a second. "It wasn’t entirely about that. I pulled a lot from my imagination, I guess. The lines between fantasy and reality blurred, and I found myself writing from perspectives that weren’t always mine."

Pedro’s heart clenched.

"There’s a song on the album," he continued, "the final track. It’s haunting. You sing about being hurt by someone you love but being unable to let them go. Can you talk about that?"

You paused, taking a breath before you spoke. "It’s a quiet resignation," you said. "That person and I, we hurt each other, but I love them. So, I guess that’s it. It felt like the right way to end the album."

Pedro’s world stilled. He realized, in that moment, what he had been searching for all this time. He had wanted confirmation, a sign that you still loved him. And with every word you spoke, you gave it to him.

Filming for The Last of Us began a couple of days later, and though Pedro threw himself into the work, your voice lingered, ghost-like, at the back of his mind. Days turned to weeks, and as production moved into September, the physical toll started to wear on him. He spent long hours on set; the Canadian cold started biting into his bones. Bella, his co-star, became a bright spot, their energy infectious, and though they bonded quickly, Pedro felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.

In the early mornings, when the world was still asleep, he would take walks to clear his head, the cold sunlight grounding him. Julia came to visit now and then, joining him on these walks, but they often ran out of things to say. He could feel the quiet disintegration of their relationship, like watching ice slowly melt into water. He didn’t know what they were holding onto anymore.

•••

When October rolled around, Pedro’s schedule clashed with the start of The Mandalorian’s third season, and it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to join the production on time. His agents scrambled to find a solution, but when Pedro’s stunt double was suggested as a replacement for the early scenes, he was left with an odd sense of detachment. And when his agent told him it had been your suggestion, something in him cracked.

The anger simmered for weeks. He felt foolish and abandoned, wondering if you had pushed him away to keep your distance. But then, just as the resentment began to harden, you showed up on set with two coffees in hand, flashing him a smile. "One iced caramel macchiato for me and one large quad over ice for you," you teased.

Pedro blinked, startled. He hadn’t expected your warmth. "Thanks," he managed, taking the coffee.

"You’re welcome," you replied brightly. "We missed you here."

"Did you?" he said, a hint of sarcasm slipping into his tone. "Because I heard it was your idea to keep me away."

Your expression twisted into confusion before you laughed. "I was just trying to make things easier. You were still filming, and I figured rushing back here would be a nightmare for you. I wasn’t plotting anything."

Pedro felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with the faintest trace of regret. "Well, in that case, I missed you too."

•••

For two seasons, your character hadn't seen his without the helmet. Today you were shooting the scene where, out of necessity, he reveals his face to you. It was written as a pivotal moment in your characters' relationship.

The moment the director called action, the air on set felt different. It wasn’t the usual hum of crew members shuffling in the background or the low murmur of cameras whirring. Instead, a heavy, almost sacred quiet descended, blanketing everyone as the scene unfolded. Pedro’s mind mirrored that stillness, a sudden and unnerving hush. It felt like everything outside of this moment ceased to exist, like time itself had bent inward.

And then—nothing. No words. No script. Just you, standing so close to him, your face inches from his, hands cradling his jaw.

You widened your eyes, a silent prompt, urging him to speak, to remember his lines. But all he could do was stare. He hadn’t been this close to you in months, hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch or the soft presence of your breath in what felt like a lifetime. His throat tightened, his words trapped somewhere deep inside. He knew the scene needed to move forward, but for one fragile moment, all he wanted was to keep you there, locked in this pocket of stillness, as if holding onto you would stop everything else from slipping away.

You read him, like you always did. You settled in, your hands still on his face, fingers pressing gently into his skin as if anchoring him. Then, softly, you filled the silence with a line—one that Pedro was sure wasn’t in the script, but it was perfect. You carried the scene, leading him back into it, your voice becoming the tether that pulled him out of the stillness and into motion. Pedro blinked, refocusing, forcing his body and mind to follow your lead as he finally delivered his line.

The scene moved on, but something lingered, thick and unsaid.

When filming wrapped for the day, the tension still simmered. You caught him at the edge of the lot, your expression unreadable as you approached him. Maybe you'll ask him why he froze like an idiot during that scene, or maybe you'll just walk past him without a word.

Instead, you simply asked, "Dinner?"

Pedro couldn’t say no. He never could when it came to you.

You ended up at a small sushi restaurant tucked away from the chaos of the city. The space was warm, softly lit, a sanctuary from the noise of the outside world. Pedro sat across from you, picking at a piece of sashimi, trying to focus on the conversation but finding it hard. You talked about the year you’d spent away from the spotlight and how you’d pulled back from everything.

"I mean, I’m doing this because I signed a contract," you said, lightly joking, but your eyes flickered with something that gave you away. "Disney has snipers; you know how it is."

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Pedro chuckled, though he could hear the sadness in your voice, the weight behind your words.

"If I could’ve gotten out of it too, I would have," you added, your tone quieter, more reflective. "I guess I just needed to slow down. I’m tired of it all."

"You even skipped the Oscars," Pedro replied, taking a sip of his drink. "That's how you know it's serious."

"Yeah, I love the Oscars. Excellent champagne."

Pedro watched you closely, wanting to dig into your words to pull apart the layers of exhaustion and sadness you were burying beneath the surface. He wanted to offer you some kind of comfort, to tell you that he understood—that he, too, had been feeling the weight of it all. But the words caught in his throat. Instead, the two of you ate in silence, the kind of quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable but spoke volumes.

There was something about being with you, even without words, that felt…right.

Later, as he lay in bed, his mind kept returning to you, to your confession. He wondered what you weren’t telling him, what you were holding back. But as much as he wanted to reach out to ask, he couldn't.

The next morning, Pedro was on a flight back to Canada. The weeks that followed blurred into a rhythm of cold, grueling days on set and long, sleepless nights. He threw himself into The Last of Us, trying to lose himself in the work, but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of you crept back in. You were there, always, lingering in the corners of his mind, and Julia could sense it.

She didn’t say anything at first, but Pedro could feel it—the slow unraveling of their relationship. It wasn’t sudden, like a crash or an explosion; it was quiet, a gradual dissolution. Every day, a little more slipped away. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from this relationship, from this life they had built together. Did he think they would buy a house, start a family? Had he ever really seen himself in this life with her, or was it just easier to disappear into hers?

Finally, Julia said it. Brightly, almost too casually. "I think maybe we’re done."

Pedro didn’t fight it. He didn’t have the energy. "Yeah," he murmured. "I think that was my fault."

•••

Christmas and New Year’s came and went in a blur. Pedro went to Chile for a few weeks, seeking the comfort of home, of family. There, surrounded by his siblings and nephews, he found a brief pause, a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a while. But even in the warmth of his childhood home, memories of you still haunted him. He saw you in every corner, heard your laughter in the echo of the hallways.

One night, after too many glasses of wine, he called you on a whim. It wasn’t about anything important—just small talk, catching up. You sounded good, better than the last time you spoke, but there was a distance in your voice, a kind of finality that made Pedro’s heart sink. For some reason, he didn’t tell you about his breakup. He kept that part of his life hidden, not out of secrecy but because it felt irrelevant at that moment.

What would it change? What did it matter?

You didn’t talk much after that. Your silence felt deliberate, not like a missed connection but a closed door. It was as if you were telling him, without saying it outright, that this was where it ended.

In the days that followed, Pedro did his best to push you out of his mind, but it didn’t take long for the thoughts to creep back in. They always did. Anger. Sadness. Regret. They whispered in his ear, insidious and unrelenting, reminding him of what he had lost, of what he could never quite hold on to.

February 7, 2022

Los Angeles, California

The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-packed, with clothes spilling over the edges like an unspoken reflection of your mind. Each item you folded and placed inside felt heavy, as if carrying pieces of the last year with you. Taylor sat cross-legged in the chair by the window, scrolling through her phone while talking, but her words barely reached you over the noise in your head.

“I’m surprised you said yes, that’s all,” she said, her voice light with curiosity. “You’ve basically been a hermit for a year now.”

You laughed softly, your hands smoothing over the fabric of a sweater. “I needed the break, you know that. ”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push yet. You were grateful for the acceptance, even if you knew she was waiting to bring it up again, the same way she always did.

“One day, you’ll tell me what really happened,” Taylor continued, her voice taking on a familiar teasing edge. “You'll tell me what had you sulking at home like a sad Victorian poet for a whole year.”

You folded another shirt and placed it in the suitcase before responding, “I’ve told you countless times. Nothing happened other than…he got a girlfriend, and I stayed out of the way. That’s it.”

Taylor squinted at you as if she didn’t quite believe it, her eyes narrowing with the kind of suspicion only a close friend could afford to show. “Aha,” she said slowly, drawing out the sound.

You rolled your eyes but smiled.

“I wasn't sulking,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light. “I was…relaxing. It was my year of rest and relaxation.”

She chuckled at that. “Good one, smarty pants."

Outside, a breeze rustled through the palm trees, carrying the scent of jasmine and the distant hum of LA traffic. You imagined the street below, the shuffling of photographers leaning against their cars, lighting cigarettes, and murmuring to each other. They had become a permanent fixture, appearing gradually over the months, staking out your house like ghosts waiting for you to return to life.

It never ceased to surprise you how much people cared about what you did off-screen. You couldn’t just let your work stand for itself. No, you had to prove yourself over and over again, reminding the world that you were still an asset, still someone worth admiring.

You shrugged, half-smiling, but there was something sad in it. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m only doing this because I've been dying to work with this director, and it’s a closed set. Once those eight weeks are up, it’s back to my hermit status.”

Taylor shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “So we’re missing the Oscars again this year?”

You threw a pair of socks at her, chuckling. “Seems like it.”

But inside, everything wasn’t as lighthearted as your words. Last year, you’d taken a step back from the spotlight, and while you didn’t want to attribute it to the hurt you were feeling over Pedro, the truth was, it had everything to do with him. Well, at least a huge chunk of it. It hurt not to have him. It hurt to see someone else kiss him, hold his hand so freely, so easily. The pain wrapped itself around you like a second skin.

The world expected you to bounce back, to emerge from this self-imposed exile with a smile and a perfect soundbite. But the truth was messier. You had spent a year nursing a heart that hadn’t fully healed. You loved Pedro in a way that still hurt, in a way that sometimes made you feel like a child who didn’t understand why they couldn’t have the one thing they wanted most. You wanted to be the bigger person, the one who could let him go gracefully, but instead, you had hidden.

You were blue all the time. Some days were okay; some days you barely got out of bed.

There were moments it felt paralyzing. The weight of the world outside your window, the expectations, the love you still felt for him—all of it crushed you. Some days, you simply couldn’t move. You stayed curled up in the safety of your blankets, staring blankly at the ceiling.

It wasn’t long before someone intervened. Your PA was that someone.

She didn’t push you at first. She’d just knock on your door, leave food outside, and ask if you needed anything. You’d spent three weeks in your room, moving only to get water or occasionally sit by the window.

One afternoon, Renata came in and found you in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. She placed a sandwich she brought on the counter and looked at you, her voice careful, but firm. “You need to talk to someone.”

“I’m talking to you,” you replied simply, taking a sip of water.

“No, you know what I mean. A professional. It’s okay if you don’t feel…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

“I’m fine,” you said, starting to walk toward the stairs.

“You’re not going to eat?” she called after you.

“Not hungry, but thanks,” you mumbled, disappearing into your room again.

But Renata didn’t let it go. She pushed gently, week after week, until finally, you let her schedule an appointment. She promised not to say anything to anyone, especially Taylor. You didn’t want to worry her.

The word depression had seemed too big to say aloud, too heavy, but that’s exactly the word your psychiatrist had used.

“You’ll need to take these every morning,” he said, handing you a small prescription bottle. “And it would be good to write how you feel. Keep track of things.”

You sat there, legs crossed in an oversized chair, staring at the prescription bottle in your hand.

•••

You watched from the sidelines as Pedro continued to rise, landing roles in The Last of Us, becoming the face everyone adored. You were thrilled for him, of course, but the distance between you felt insurmountable.

The only interaction you had was through a comment on his Instagram post, and even then, you weren’t sure if it meant anything. You didn't dare to call him on his birthday; you didn't want to stain his day with sadness. Every time you looked at your phone, tears threatened to spill. You felt as if the moment he spoke into the phone, you might collapse.

He's better off; he might not even notice.

The album you dropped in the spring had been a release of every emotion you hadn’t been able to speak aloud. Each song was laced with love and loss, heartbreak and longing; every note was a confession you’d never let yourself voice. You wondered if he listened to it—if the lyrics registered with him, if he knew they were about him.

That same week, you saw photos of him in London, holding her hand. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

The months passed in a blur of avoidance. You busied yourself at home with anything you could find that didn’t involve thinking about him. You did the one interview your publicist insisted on. It was with Zane Lowe; you liked him, so it was mostly okay. You found yourself talking about the songs you wrote during that time. As you listened to your own words, you realized that the music had given you a voice when you felt silenced by heartache.

It was a bittersweet realization.

By October, filming for The Mandalorian had loomed on the horizon, and when you found out Pedro was still tied up in Canada, you suggested beginning production without him. It felt easier that way, like a reprieve. But when he finally arrived on set, the connection between you two still crackled beneath the surface. There was an unspoken understanding in the way he looked at you during that intense scene—the one where your character saw his face for the first time. He froze, and you wondered what was running through his mind—what thoughts had stopped him from continuing.

You hesitated, but after the scene wrapped, you found yourself asking him to dinner. It was a slippery slope. You could pretend you were okay all you wanted in the brief moments between takes, offering coffee and smiles, but no one saw right through you like him.

Still, you asked. It was a small gesture, just a way to extend the fragile thread of connection between you, to hold onto him for a little longer before he left again.

But you’d learned how to stay in your lane. You’d learned how to love him from a distance, how to let him be happy with someone else. It was an act of love, really—letting him go, stepping aside to give him the space to live a life that didn’t include you. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Taylor’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Do you think you could be a hermit in Greece next? I could use a vacation.”

May 29, 2022

Los Angeles, California

Between promoting The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and wrapping up the final scenes of The Last of Us in Canada, he had little time to do, well, anything else really.

It was late May, just after the Star Wars Celebration. He’d worn a blue two-piece set that felt more like pajamas than anything formal, which was fine by him. Comfort was the priority these days.

But something was missing. You. You hadn’t been there. Out of everyone from the cast, you were the only one absent, and that absence settled like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

"She’s just taking time off," he’d tell himself, repeating the words like a mantra. “She’s probably busy; she's okay.” But the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave him alone.

Pedro had even caved one evening, calling Taylor. It had been late, after a full day of press, his voice rough from interviews and late-night whiskey. He had only meant for it to be one drink. But then he thinks back to the fact that you've plagued his dreams every night this week and that there was a song he kept hearing repeatedly that reminded him of you, and one drink had turned to three, and now here he is.

“Taylor?” He had sounded more vulnerable than he intended. “Is she... I mean, everything’s okay, right?”

Taylor had reassured him, of course, her voice patient, telling him you were fine, that you just were busy. Pedro wanted to believe her, but it gnawed at him. Something felt off.

He still woke up some mornings with the urge to tell you something, a joke he heard or a weird dream he had.

•••

By August he found himself in Spain, the arid heat of the desert sinking into his skin as filming for Strange Way of Life began. The project felt like a strange departure—something raw and gritty, something that required his full attention—but even then, in quiet moments between takes, his mind wandered. He’d sit in his trailer, his phone in hand, thumb hovering over your contact name, but the messages stayed unsent.

The days passed in a blur of rehearsals, early morning call times, and late-night script revisions. He spent his downtime with Ethan, exchanging stories over beers. But there was a quietness to Pedro that hadn’t been there before—a missing piece of him he couldn’t quite place.

•••

November 22, 2022

Miami, Florida

The night was sweltering; even by late fall standards, the air was thick and humid. Pedro was grinning, wearing a loose-fitting animal print shirt that made him feel playful, like he was stepping into some exaggerated version of himself for the evening. Lux was by his side, vibrant as always, their laughter mingling with the clink of glasses as they arrived at a wine event.

But it didn’t take long for Lux to notice the shadow that hung over him.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, side-eyeing him as they sipped their drinks by the bar.

“I’ve been busy,” Pedro answered vaguely, swirling his glass and watching the amber liquid catch the light.

“Sure,” Lux replied, smirking. “And when are you both going to stop being idiots? It’s getting tiresome, hermanito.”

Pedro nearly choked on his drink, laughing in surprise. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Lux’s voice was matter-of-fact, cutting through his defenses with that typical bluntness only siblings could pull off. “You and her. It’s obvious. To everyone.”

Pedro sighed, leaning back against the bar, the Miami night buzzing around them. “It’s not that simple.”

Lux raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re both so afraid of what might happen that you’re stuck in this limbo. It’s ridiculous. Why let it get this bad?”

Pedro stared into his glass, her words echoing in his head.

"Because I love her," Pedro finally admitted, his voice quieter, weighed down by the truth. He stared down at his drink, swirling the ice around the glass. "I love her so much I’m willing to let her go."

Lux didn’t say anything.

Pedro shook his head, a bitter smile playing at his lips. "I would only hold her back. I know her so well. She’d sacrifice things just to be with me, and I can’t let her do that. I would only hold her back. She deserves so much better."

Lux tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And what if what she wants is you? What if she’s out there feeling the same way, thinking she’s the one who isn’t good enough for you? Do you ever think about that?”

Pedro let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "Of course I’ve thought about it. Every day. But what if I’m wrong? What if she gives up things she shouldn’t for me? I can’t let her do that, Lux."

Lux leaned in closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Maybe it’s not your decision to make. Maybe she deserves the choice. Don’t you think it’s a bit arrogant to assume what’s best for her without even asking?"

Pedro met her gaze, feeling exposed. “I just... I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want to ruin her life.”

Lux smiled, but it wasn’t pitying. It was knowing, soft around the edges. "You’re not ruining anything by loving her. But keeping it to yourself? That’s where the damage is, hermanito. You think you’re protecting her, but all you’re doing is pushing her away. And trust me, that hurts more than anything else."

He had always been so afraid of losing you, so terrified of not being enough, that he hadn’t even realized how much distance he had created.

Lux’s voice softened again, the words cutting through the noise in his mind. "She deserves better, Pedro? Maybe. But who says you don’t deserve her, too?"

a/n: please like, reblog and comment! i love reading your thoughts!! next part will be posted in a bit ;) aaaand something might be happening ;)

[daenysthedreamersblog]

ONLY ANGEL II - CHERRY

Don't you call him baby

We're not talking lately

Don't you call him what you used to call me

part one

summary: coriolanus has at last returned to the capitol only to find you engaged to felix and he simply won't have that...and neither will you it seems

pairing: postacademy!coryo x capitol!reader

warning: MDNI!! swearing, dark themes, violence, infidelity, smut, hand-job, fingering, oral sex, orgasm denial, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, mild breeding kink, v mild daddy kink, probs like a small exhibition kink, coryo probs has a cherry kink (lmao), murder, these two are sick in the head

notes: i saw a tiktok and it was a recipe video and the caption was 'baking bc murder is wrong' and i feel like reader took that personally. this took me way too long to finish and im still not in love with it but hope u find joy in it! (also let me add felix lived in the book but he did die in the movie 🤭)

"Do you hear that, Coriolanus? It's the sound of Snow falling."

His eyes quiver as water unintentionally wells staring down at his handkerchief, next to everything else that incriminated him.

He had won, he had won, who cares how he had done it. And you had been there, smiling up at him with such pride, not a single thought besides looking at Coriolanus. He had won for you.

And now he was here unable to tear his eyes away from his mistakes.

He hears your heels clipping against the hard floor behind him, but he can't look at you, he can't face you, not yet. You can't see him like this. He needs to find a way out of this first. He wants to plead with you to listen, beg you to stay by his side. You know he wants to too, he can feel it in the air, your shame towards him. You huff out a laugh, the sound ringing out like distant wedding bells in his head, then you're walking away from him without a single word your heels hitting the floor harshly with every step you take until he's left in silence.

Alone.

-

He watches the districts blur past him sitting wearily on the train dragging him away from his home, dragging him away from you. He runs a hand through his buzzed hair, the only solace in the whole ordeal, at least he didn't have his curls to be cursed by the memory of your hands in them. He knows he'll never see you again, even if he returns you'll want nothing to do with him. He glances at Sejanus across from him, the small smile on the Plinth boy's face, and his nails dig into his palm.

"President Coriolanus Snow." You had whispered up at him. Now he was just a useless ordinary peacekeeper sent to die out in the districts while you laid in Felix Ravinstill's bed.

He glares out the window. No he won't have that, not one bit. He'll find a way home to you, find a way to make you proud of him again no matter if he has to obliterate all of District 12 to do it. He'd burn it all down, burn the world down too while he's at it...for you.

One year later

He stares at you the whole entire party, watches you nurse your drink so delicately the color of it staining your lips marroon. You're wearing a similar shade satin dress, the cowl neckline draped across your breast, every curve hugged exquisitely, and your ass... Coriolanus was hard the minute his eyes found you, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

You never look his way once.

This party was for him, because of him. Because attending University, working under Gaul had thrown The Hunger Games to new heights, him to new heights. Everyone was celebrating another successful game, celebrating his hard work.

You wouldn't look at him.

His work wasn't done of course, he still needed to ascend further to rightfully take the Presidency. He could do it, especially with this newly found wealth and respect. He was back where he belonged; on top.

And you wouldn't look at him.

He knew it had everything to do with that giant rock on your left hand, your fiancé's nasty arm around your waist. He sneered into his own drink, Mrs. Ravinstill. It sounded horrid.

You never sought him out once he had returned to the Capitol after his...punishment. Never came to find him once your fiancé came home from University informing you Coriolanus Snow had at last returned. He knew he'd never see you there; you never intended on going, content on marrying the President. He figured as much, knew it was too far fetched to imagine opening his front door to find you there begging him to take you back. You would never beg.

He needed to speak to you, demand why you chose Felix over him, why you wouldn't come see him in his newly remodeled pent house. He needed to fuck you, be inside you, taste your sweet spit again. Nothing else had gotten him through those horrible months in 12, but the thought of getting back home to you.

And you wouldn't fucking look at him.

He knew you were deliberately ignoring him, another game you liked to play the only thing missing was that hard candy dripping from your lips. A cat playing with her food, but he was different now, a snake rather than a mouse and he had not lied and schemed and clawed his way back for you to pick Felix Ravinstill over him. He watched you peel off heading towards the bathroom, and he took his chance stalking after you. You were fixing your lipgloss when he barged in. You didn't even flinch, only glanced at him through the mirror.

Your smirked as you fixed the corner of your mouth. "Hi Coryo," His cock twitched at the old nickname.

"Marry me." He cut to the chase and you raised an eyebrow at him. He had the money now, the respect, soon the presidency, everything you had wanted him to get, he had gotten. Sure it had taken an unconventional route, but the destination would be all the same. He dug into his pocket, pulled out the red velvet box, and opened it revealing a huge diamond ring, bigger than Felix's. It was the first thing he bought when the Plinth's wealth soon became his. You eyed it and then turned back to fixing your makeup.

"No." You scoffed.

He snapped the box close and tucked it away. "Marry me." You shake your head at him smirking to yourself as you put your lip gloss away. He walks up behind you keeping some distance between the two of you, he needs to touch you but he pauses his fingers itching forward to grab onto your skin. "You never came to see me." He remembers waiting at the train station, to see you one last time. He never got to explain what had happened, how he did it all for you. He even knew if it came down to it he would have disgraced himself by begging you to wait for him, he knew if he did you would only stray from him more. But you never showed up, and soon he was being carted off to District 12.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Your hand tapped against the sink ceramic clinking with the sound of your ring, he should have known better than to expect an answer, "He proposed after graduation, at my party, you were supposed to attend." You met his gaze in the mirror as he towered behind you, the explanation plainly on your face; you had been ashamed of him. "I thought you were better than that." You didn't care that he cheated, you only cared that he got caught.

He takes a step forward as you slowly turn to face him your foot plants between the two of his, knee caressing his thigh fraying his nerves under warm skin. "I am." He can't help it, his knuckle strokes your cheek. "Thought you were my angel...forgive me."

You push up lightly breathing up at him; it was your version of forgiveness. "Do you like my lipgloss?" You ask the sweet fruity scent of it swirling up towards him, he knows what it would taste like.

"Cherry."

"I wore it for you." You add as you toy with his shirt moving even closer until he feels your breath on his mouth.

His bottom lip brushes against yours, breast pressing into his chest, his clothes feel too tight, "Are you gunna let me taste it?" You're too close, his body too hot, his hard cock digging into your flesh as you slip a hand between bodies to run a palm along it; absolution for his sins.

"Should I?" You ask into his open mouth and he finds his hand on your collarbone. He doesn't know why you do this to him, place yourself on the small string just out of reach for him, and it takes everything in him to not choke the air out of you for doing it, for teasing him constantly after going so long with your silence. He should leave you to rot, but he can't. He simply...can't. Your cherry venom had snuck into him, ran through his blood, thickened his arteries, and your fangs were holding on too tight.

"Everything I did was for you."

You raise an eyebrow, "You still got found out." You jutted your bottom lip out your whisper hot against his teeth, he could smell the cherry wine on your breath "Left me all alone."

He grits his teeth, wants to explain he had no control over any of it, but you didn't care. "I'm back now." His hands grab onto your waist enjoying the feel of your body under his palms once more his lips grazing against yours, "I killed anyone who was ever going to keep me from you."

"Not everyone."

Felix.

"I'll kill him too."

You snarled against his mouth, "Good."

He smashed your mouths together, and you opened right up for him. You tasted of cherry, as sweet as before as he sucked the wine from your lips, licking it off your tongue. He thought of nothing but you his whole time out in that pest filled district, he fell asleep dreaming of your mouth, your breasts, your sweet cunt waiting drenched for him back home. You bit down on his bottom lip and tugged backwards before glancing up at him.

Your hands were so far down his pants, running down the length of him, gathering precum and smearing it across to slide a soft hand around the shaft. He groans into your mouth as you grip harder, move faster. "Did you miss me Coryo?" You coo against his face. "Missed my hand, my pussy, wrapped around you so tight." You squeeze, nails grazing as you swirled around his cock. "Did you think of me often? Think of me while you had to cum down a dirty drain?"

He squeezes his eyes tight, "Yes." He pants, and he hates that it was always true. He doesn't like this, doesn't like how you're pulling this power play over him, but your fucking hand was pumping him for all his worth, and he can't find himself to care.

"I'm still your little slut Coryo." Your fingers graze his balls, tongue licking along his teeth. "Are you still mine?"

"Yes." He grunts out not able to stop the cum shooting hard into your hand all on the inside of his pants.

You grin up at him, "Someones quick off the mark."

He wants to slap you, slap that smile off your lips but instead he watches you pull your hand out to lick the cum off of it. He shoves you backwards, shoving your legs apart running a hand up your thigh meeting your bare wet pussy. His eyes flickered around your face, you knew tonight would have been his last straw, you knew he couldn't stay away any longer. He runs a knuckle through your wet folds power surging through him as he pushes two fingers inside of you.

He bites back the groan as his hand sinks into you relishing in the noise as he curls it up inside of you, savoring the moan clawing up your throat. You attach your lips to his as he begins to thrust in and out you pressing up against that soft spot that has you mewling down his throat. He presses a palm to your clit, "Coryo." You whimper out and he's moving his hand faster, fucking you with it vigorously feeling your hips tilt to meet his thrust.

Your walls spasm around his hand. He pulls off your mouth sucking down your neck, teeth digging into skin. "That's it, cum for me angel." His thumb shifts rubbing into your clit pleasure tightening your legs against his own as they try to part further, pushing his fingers deeper. He shoves down the front of your dress exposing your breast for him to knead into his palm, dipping down wrapping his mouth along your nipple rolling it around his tongue, nipping at it gently as your hands run through his hair. "Did you miss me too?"

"No."

He looks at you, takes in your smug expression and all he wants to do is slam your head back so hard the mirror cracks. "You're a fucking liar." He growls out at you, hand covering your face as he thrust hard and deep. "You touched yourself every night thinking of me." He pounds his hand into you harder your back hitting against the mirror, you're getting wetter by it, turned on by his violence the wanton moans spilling past your lips, "Thought about me fucking you since you learned I came back for you."

You let out a breathy laugh, "Fine...I missed you a little." You were never one to show your hand, so he takes what you give him.

He grabs your face between his fingers squeezing, "Don't ever fucking lie to me again."

"I promise." You moaned.

He's holding under you with one hand slamming into you the sick sound of it echoing around the bathroom, "Scream my name when you cum." He leans down close to your ear. "I want you fiancé to hear what a fucking whore you are for me."

And gods you do. You scream his glorious name out into the open air clamping down around him, cumming against his hand letting him draw slow circles around your clit until you whine for him to stop. He pulls his hand out of you and quickly sucks his fingers, swirling around his digits to drink up your nectar sweet pleasure licking up your sweat along your neck.

"Did he touch you?" He nips at your chin.

You chuckled, "I told you before I'm waiting for marriage."

"Such an angel." He kisses your open mouth.

"Your angel."

Coriolanus has his arms wrapped around your body supporting you against the sink. "You didn't come see me." He listens to your heart hammering in your chest as you catch your breath.

You run your hand through his shorter hair. "I miss your curls Coryo."

"Answer me." He finally demands staring down at you.

You sighed, "Felix wouldn't let me." You pouted trying to twist your fingers around his shorter hair but it was harder so you gave up, "So I kept my distance, watching you climb like the man I knew you always were, waiting for you." Your hands snaked around his neck smiling up at him eyes darkening, "Waiting for you to finally come take whats yours."

He searched your eyes, "Want me to steal you away in the night from that idiot of a fiancee?"

"It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."

His eyes flicker around your face, the reassuring ownership written there. He kisses your lips one more time before stepping back watching as you straighten out your dress once again having to fix your makeup and hair. "Marry me." He asks standing behind you in the mirror.

"No." You turn your body towards him. "I can't." You take a step forward hands resting on his stomach, "What are we going to do about that?"

He wraps his hand around yours, "Whatever it takes."

You don't even hide it as you exit together, not even as you head back into the party side by side. You know as well as him that you looked better next to Coriolanus, you belonged next to him. Your arm is tucked into Coriolanus's as the pair of you approach your soon-to-be husband who's eyes flare in alarm at the sight."Where'd you go?" He asks already taking in the mark on your neck, the flushed cheeks. He wants to grab you, lock you away, but he wouldn't dare move as you had attached yourself with Coriolanus.

Coriolanus looks down your body wondering if Felix can smell his cum sticky against your fingers as you speak. "I ran into Coriolanus." You motion to him as his eyes find Felix's angry ones.

"Coriolanus." He grits out. He knew, the poor bastard knew and he wouldn't say a thing, not in public anyways.

He smirks, "Felix."

You place your ringed hand on his chest, "Coriolanus was just telling me how wonderful it has been working with Dr. Gaul." You lied fingers splaying over his muscled chest white clumps clinging to your skin.

And only because Coriolanus enjoys pissing off Felix Ravinstill he places his hand over yours stroking a finger down your wrist. "You should stop by some day, if your free." He knows you always are, he knows Felix isn't. "I haven't seen you outside classes Felix, it will be nice for all of us to catch up."

Felix opened his mouth the decline sitting there, the bottled up cuckholding rage oozing off of him, but you smiled, dripping with fake sweetness. "Oh that would be lovely, nice distraction from wedding planning." He knew you weren't doing any of that. "How sweet of you Coriolanus." You looked up at you fiancée with those big eyes anyone would fall for.

Felix swallowed, biting out the submission. "How sweet indeed."

What a weak, spineless fool.

There's a knock on his door.

He watches it for a moment before standing up to unlock it.

"Hi Coryo," You lean against his doorframe smiling up at him. He always imagined you coming here, showing up, begging him, but that wasn't your style. "Gunna let me in?" He moves to the side to allow you to walk inside his home. "This is truly gorgeous." You praised him walking through his newly refurbished home. You had never seen if before, but he was glad for it, the after was more...fitting to the lifestyle Coriolanus wanted to give you.

He wanted to ask what you were doing here, but he knew what you wanted, could smell your arousal like a feral animal. "Does Felix know you're here?" He asked locking the door behind him.

You smirk still taking in the room before turning to look at him. "I hope he does."

Would you tell him? Why you kept lying to the poor man, why you didn't just leave him? Were you waiting for Coriolanus to make the first move in this game you had set up? He moves until he's standing in front of you, glancing down at you, "I got you something."

You gazed up at him under batting eyelashes, "How kind of you."

Coriolanus went into his old room picking up the present and walking back out to you. He holds out the pretty box for you watching as your fingers traced the box along it. "Figured since you can't get anymore from your Daddy, it would only seem fitting for me to fund my favorite habit of yours."

You pull the bow loose letting it fall around your feet before pushing the lid up to reveal the glass jar inside full of cherry suckers. "Oh Coryo," The smile flickered onto your lips as you stuck your hand inside to pull one loose. He watched you unwrap it, watched you push it into your mouth. "Mhm," You moaned body heat radiating off you as you stepped closer your hand palming his cock through his pants. "Taste almost as good as you."

"Dirty girl." He gritted out as you shoved your hand below his waistband soft fingers wrapping around him. He can't look away from your face as your tongue rolls along the red ball, as you stroke his hard length. "Get on your knees."

You pop off the sucker. "Is this my second gift?"

"Do you deserve a second gift?" He ask hand stroking down your cheek.

"I do Coryo, I've been such a good girl while you were gone." You breath against his lips.

He tugs the sucker loose and shoves it into his own mouth missing the taste of it mixed with your sweet saliva. He sets the box back down as you climb down onto the floor in front of him pulling him out of his pants. You lick the tip, swirling your tongue around him before pushing him in further until he hits the back of your throat, and even then you try to keep forcing him deeper.

His hand is in your hair as he lets your hand pump the rest of him that wont fit inside your hot mouth, tongue flat against the base as he ruts against you. You gaze up at him, tears welling involuntarily as he hits the back of your throat over and over again, and you smile every-time. "Missed sucking my cock that much angel?" You nod, a moan vibrating down his dick. His other hand comes around your face feeling the spilling over spit run down your chin as you sloppily bob your mouth up and down him. He remembers having to finish into a his hand all that time away imagining this, you greedily sucking his cock. He tries to force your head to move slower, to enjoy the feel of your warm mouth wrapped around him, but he struggles as your grip tightened around him, your other hand coming up to cup his balls.

He hisses, fucking your mouth faster, letting you take what he was giving you. He wants himself stuck between your teeth as much as the sweet sugar you consumed. You want it too as you suck in your cheeks sucking him harder. "You want my cum baby girl?"

You come off him for a second mouth wide, tongue outstretched to graze the underside of him, "Always Coryo." It goes straight to his head...and his cock.

His thighs tighten and he is shoving himself back into your mouth, holding you tight against him to spill down your throat as cherry filled saliva slips down his own. "Swallow all of it." He doesn't need to tell you twice as you keep sucking and licking up his twitching cock keeping every last drop inside your mouth to slip down your throat. And even when you come off him you lick the tip clean smirking up at him.

"Even better than I remember." You tell him as he helps you to your feet. His hands come around your face as he kisses you savoring the cum and cherry sugar in your mouth. He licks it off the roof of your mouth, sucks the juice off your tongue before he pulls away letting you press a soft lasting kiss to his lips.

"What are you waiting for?" He whispers fingers tracing your puffy lips. He wants to spill his guts, describe how you roiled inside of them. You only smile up at him like you knew he would carve it all out for you, he would, and it makes him want to strangle you. "Leave him."

You reach up pulling your sucker free from his lips and pushing it back through your own. "I wish it was that easy." Your sigh was answer enough, there was no way to move forward with Felix's ring around your finger.

His hand lands at the base of your neck anger filling him. "I should leave you." He hisses out tired of watching you be with another man when you belonged with him, belonged to him.

"You wanna leave me?" His fingers dig into your jaw as a smug smile plastered onto your lips he wants to slap it off your face, he wants to fuck you unforgivably to regain his power you thought you had stolen when he was sent away, "I fucking dare you."

You know he never could, and he hates you for it, "You want me to murder all of Panem to prove myself to you?"

"Would you?"

Candy scented breaths ease out of you, no fear on your soft features, and he knows his answer immediately. Yes. He would, he'd do a lot worst to keep you looking at him.

"No... Not all." Just one more, is what you don't say. He drops his hand watching as you go to the door. You put one hand on the knob as you threw a wicked grin over your shoulder cherry sucker pushed into your cheek, "Bye Coryo."

It's no surprise after that night you began showing up to 'visit' Felix during his studies at The University. He sees you walking up the set of small stairs, a classy black tweed minidress hugging your body, the white little ribbon bouncing in your hair, candy between your teeth as you walked towards the hall littered with men.

He wished he could grab you, kiss you, fuck you in front of everyone so they know who you belonged to, who got to go home to you every night, who got to hear your pretty little moans. He wanted them to be envious of him, not that idiot Felix. It wasn't fair, and frankly it wasn't right.

You state you're there for Felix, but you never go in the direction his classes are, and you certainly never come when he's free of them. Your eyes fixate on Coriolanus, "Hi Coryo." Your voice slides down his spine like sugared ice as you stop in front of him.

"Can't stay away hmm?" He smirks down at you.

"From you?" You raise an eyebrow toying with the stick of your sucker the pout in your bottom lip. "Never. It was so hard this last year..."

His hand comes around toying with the ribbon in your hair. He tugs it lightly watching your head lean back at the movement. "Always such a slut." Because only you would be so brash about your desire for him, you truly only come here so he can fuck you in the bathroom. The ribbon slides out and into his palm, the collection of them all still stuffed away in his old peacekeeper box. He remembers gripping them between his knuckles when he had to fuck his fist in that disgusting barrack. Your tongue darts out for him, swirling around the tip of your candy, licking up the length of it. "Want my cock in your cunt that badly huh?"

"Come over for dinner," You purr up at him as a hand strokes down his shirt. "Felix works late tonight with his uncle."

He shakes his head at you as you roll the ball across your bottom lip, "Filthy fucking girl, want me to come fuck you while your fiancée is away."

You drag your tongue up the center, "You can fuck me while he's home too."

"You would let me." He watches you nod, "Let me fuck you right here against this wall too?" You gaze up at him not needing to answer, he knows you'd let him. He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Such a fucking whore, well then go on, pull your dress up. I know you're not wearing anything under it." He watches as your eyes darken, fingers actually going to the hem of your dress, and he fights the urge to shove his hand so far between your legs.

Felix calls your name and he finds his hand around your wrist holding you to his side, "Yes darling?"

You watch your fiancée walk towards the two of you worry laced on his face while Coriolanus mouth presses to the shell of your ear, "Stop calling him darling."

He pulls the sucker from your mouth to shove into his own as you smirk sidelong at him, Felix stopping in front of you. "You shouldn't have come." Felix says hand going to your waist, trying to pull you away, peering around the filled hallway, but you stay planted next to Coriolanus. Coriolanus fights the urge to burn his hands where they touch you.

Your eyes glance up to Coriolanus for a fleeting second. "I wanted to see you." He knows your words aren't meant for your fiancée

"It's a busy time. I have to get going." He eyes you, eyes Coriolanus with your sucker in his mouth. "I'll see you at home later."

Home. Coriolanus hates that, that wasn't your home, simply a prison preventing you from living with him. "Okay." You say, but make no effort to move. In fact you lean into Coriolanus's hand as it lands on the small of your back.

"Go home." Felix tries to sound demanding summoning all his strength to keep his eyes on you instead of Coriolanus.

Your smile is sinful, finding delight in whatever dominance Felix had forced himself into. "We were just catching up, you understand don't you." You don't even mention the invitation you had offered, the door you would leave open for him to come inside.

Felix's hand grips your arm yanking you towards him. "We talked about this." Felix tried to say it quietly as if Coriolanus wouldn't hear him, grinding his foot into the floor like a stubborn child. There was no hiding your wandering eye, no hiding how Coriolanus was always on the receiving end of it. Felix was now figuring out how to grow some balls to say something about it, but you didn't care. You never would.

You step forward placing the hand he held on his chest and he knows you wish you could plunge you painted claws through his sternum to rip out his heart. You pat his chest instead looking over your shoulder at Coriolanus, "Bye Coryo." You leave them standing there hips swaying as you walk away.

"Stealing the Plinth fortune wasn't enough for you?" Felix grits out eyes on your ribbon in Coriolanus's hand, your candy between his teeth.

Coriolanus's fingers toy with it watching you leave as he repeated what you told him, "It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."

He arrived early. He knows the door is unlocked but he is still a gentleman so he knocks on the door to your and Felix's future forever home. He knew you had moved in together after the engagement, had gathered as much when he went to your old home and found it empty. You open the door wide and the air knocks out of his chest. He'll never get over you, he knew that then carted away on that train to 12, he knows that now with the blood staining his hands.

He knows you'd lick it off.

"Hi Coryo." You smile allowing him into your home closing the door behind the two of you. You lock it; he cherished the sound.

He held out the bouquet of white roses he brought, "For you."

You lean forward inhaling as you gaze up at him under dark eyelashes. He often heard Felix bragging about working with his uncle, how beneficial it was, how the position simply suits him. Well Felix could brag all he wanted, it would never do him any good.

Coriolanus looks around taking in your decorated home, the pictures of you and Felix lining the walls. They were hideous, "Where did you mother ever go off to?"

"She was so distraught after Daddy died." You frown, the perfect sadness sketched on your face, as you took the flowers setting them in a pretty vase at the center of the table. "She was overcome with grief."

Your father had died suddenly....unexpectedly.

What a tragic accident.

He remembers your fake tears, he especially remembered comforting you at the small lunch-in your mother had after the funeral, comforting you by fucking you in your parent's bed while guest downstairs mourned your father.

He was hard just thinking about it, thinking about licking those sweet crocodile tears away as he plunged himself into your hot cunt. He wanted to do it again, take you in you martial bed simply to prove a point, to prove the same point he had back then. That you belonged to him.

You sighed turning to look at him leaning back against your large dining table. "I reached out to Dr. Gaul and she was more than happy to help me." He took slow steps towards you your eyes following him until he towered over you. "She found a nice facility to...take care of her."

His hand came up snaking around your neck, thumb stroking your jaw. "You're a piece of work you know that?"

"You play your games," The well hidden wickedness flashes behind your eyes, the woven in manipulation surrounding all you touched. "I play mine."

You let his other hand grab onto your waist. "There are worse games to play."

He leans down to kiss you, your mouth so soft and warm against his, he feels you open, tongue sliding along his. He pulls your body against his, breast pushed onto his chest as his hands hold you tight. He's sick of letting you go. "Do you still want a man angel?"

"I want you," You breath into his open mouth and the hand on your hip slips between your legs.

He groans out at the feel of you, grinding his cock against your body fingers running up your drenched pussy. He wants it all, wants that sweet addiction only you can give him, and it still would never be enough to satiate him. He laid you back, spreading you open like his own personal feast and digs into your cunt.

Your moan reverberates through him as his tongue licks up your center passing over your clit in teasing strokes, nails digging into his scalp. He wants Felix to walk in, to see how Coriolanus could make his put together fiancée come so undone in his own home. And how he'll never get the chance to even try. But he wants to be inside you, so he hopes your stupid soon-to-be husband would stay away a little while longer. You sigh his name, the sound like a psalm, and he thinks he'd still fuck you even if Felix walked in right now.

Coriolanus glides his tongue along your clit two fingers pushing into you as your back arches for him. Then he moves faster, curling his fingers against that soft spot. He knows your close already, knew your body like the back of his hand, he can tell by the tightness in your legs, the pants of air you force out, so he keeps fucking you with his hand, keeps his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit.

He pulls away before you cum.

"Coryo." You whine eyes wild and offended.

Coriolanus simply smirks, "That's for not coming to see me."

His fingers begin moving again, his mouth wrapping around your clit and you relax taking it in, feeling the pleasure he was giving you. Your fingers curl, legs trying to stay spread but they're shaking too much as he brings you closer and closer again. You're right there, he can feel your walls trying to clamp down around him, feel you pushing down against his face to keep him there.

He pulls away again.

"Coriolanus!" You cry out.

He laughs watching you glare down at him. "And that's for being a fucking brat all the time."

You can't retort, can't argue as he spits down on your already soaked cunt, dipping down into you again your eyes squeezing shut the deep groan coming from your throat. He would make you suffer more, but the taste of you always sends him into a frenzy and he can't help but become drunk off your pleasure. His tongue moves side to side in quick motions as his fingers thrust in and out, curled up along your g-spot. It's too much already, too intense from failed orgasms. Every breath is a mewling whimper as you thrust your hips back downward into his face to chase your climax.

He'll play nice with you, as long as you remember who was in power.

"Who's your Daddy now angel?" He smirks against you before wrapping his mouth around your clit.

You scream his name as you come hard against his face, rivers of pleasure dripping down his chin, onto the table and floor. He keeps moving his tongue slowly against you drinking in everything not caring that it's overstimulating as you keep spasming around him, not caring as teeth graze against your clit. His tongue dips inside of you gently thrusting in and out and you're clawing at him for more, and he would, he would fuck you with his tongue, make you cum over and over again just like this, but you tug on his hair.

"Coryo," He loves the break in your voice as you whine for pleasure, how sweet it sounds coming from your devilish tongue. "Fuck me."

Anything for you.

He pulls away and stands up flipping you over, unbuckling his pants. He strokes a hand down your pretty hair, running over the angel cake softness of your bare skin, his hand lands on your hip. He's inside you before you can breath walls enveloping his cock, its so wet he slides in so fucking deep. His hand twist in your hair yanking it back to arch your back as he quickly starts fucking you viciously. You claw at the table moaning into the open air. "You like that hmm?" He drives himself in hard wrapping his hand around your body, slithering it up to your neck. "Like when I fuck you like the whore you are?" You did and you were, just for him. Only ever for him. He squeezes your throat a little enjoy the little gasp you give him before he limits your air supply. He's high off it, high off you, of the power you allow him to take.

You reach a hand back holding onto him as he fucks you brutally, abusing your cervix with every hard hit of his cock, your a mess because of it. He knows you're close again as he lets go listening to you gulp down more air throwing you over your peak and he adores the feeling of you clamping down around him as you do, crying out for him over and over again. He doesn't take long to finally spill himself into you with a hard tug on your hair to push himself deeper, to make sure every drop stays inside. "I hope I get you pregnant." He leans down to kiss the side of your neck.

You lean into his touch as his cock twitches one last time. Neither of you move as he drags his lips over your shoulder gently sinking his teeth in to taste your sweat. He pulls out and tucks himself away allowing you the space to turn around and face him. You just smile and shake your head playfully at him as if you didn't want the same thing.

"Here," Coriolanus digs into his pocket pulling out a small vial. You eye the cloudy liquid knowing what it was; poison. "Just a few drops into his food or water." Your smile drips in sweetness as you take it. "Not tonight, it's too suspicious." He runs a finger through your hair. "Whenever you want to come home to me."

You kiss him as you pocket the vial.

The door opens a few seconds later. "Coriolanus." Felix pauses eyes flitting between the two of you taking in the damning sight.

"Oh Felix look at the beautiful flowers Coryo has brought us." You motion to the fresh vase you had set up at the center of the table.

"What are you doing here?" Felix swallows ignoring you.

You waved him away, "Oh I figured you would be happy to be having dinner with an old friend."

"How long have you been here?" Alone. But he won't ask that.

"A while." He smirks back.

Felix, wising up, finally looks down your body at the fresh trail of cum sliding down your thigh. His eyes hold fear to a situation he has no idea how to control. "I made pie." You disappear into the kitchen leaving the two of them alone to stare at one another. Coriolanus doesn't say anything, simply walks around the table to sit at the head of it, where he belonged. Felix sits across from him when you return as you began to set the food put, finally placing a sweet scented desert near the center. "Cherry...your favorite." Coriolanus finds his palm splayed against your waist, you glance at him as you straightened it, "Darling."

You move taking the seat to the right of Coriolanus foot rubbing up against his. "My favorite is apple." Felix corrects you, hand wrapped around a butter knife.

"Oops." Your smile is saccharine as you blink innocently.

After a tense dinner in which you deferred every veiled accusation shot your way, he knew Felix was far too aware to let it keep happening under his nose. It was only fair he allow the two of you to come see where Dr. Gaul and him worked, to prove his companionship to an old friend, to make up for his impropriety with said friend's future wife.

He never said the two of you had to come at the same time.

He knows the minute you walk through the lab doors, your hair half lightly pulled back with a pretty ribbon, wearing one of your tight skirts and white mock turtle neck, cherry candy in your mouth he would have no more of this arrangement.

No more, no more fiancée, no more hiding his claim on you. No more. He doesn't care if he has to kill all of Panem to keep you, he'll do it gladly. He'd force your hand to use the poison tonight.

You kiss his cheek the scent of you, the sugary taste, pulsed around him, heightening his senses, hardening his cock. You tuck your hand in his arm letting him walk with you. You took everything in like this was a sick version of an art gallery. He showed you around knowing you were only vaguely interested in the various creations held inside their tanks, talked about future plans for future games. He followed next to you, watching you peer into the cages of those muttations, tapping on the glass to watch them squirm. You belonged next to him, you knew that now more than ever. You looked so much better with him than you ever did with that pathetic excuse of a fiancée.

You pointed to the cages filled with black birds.

"Jabberjays." He followed you as you walked towards them. "They can memorize and repeat conversations."

You poked your finger through the bar, awe in your eyes. "This was how you did it." He stared at you as you glanced back at him realizing you knew he had incriminated Sejanus, how he had sent the poor boy to the hanging tree to get back here. In the place he once felt guilt sat validation, the lust in your eyes proving what he had done was right.

"How did you..." He should have suspected you knew, you were too close to the top to not know, too woven into the group of elites, but it still surprised him.

You only smiled as you watched one flare its wings out in alarm as your finger inched closer to it. "I went to Dr. Gaul a month after you left." Your lip pulled back in disgust, "Disgraced myself by begging her to let you return."

Heat ran through him, pounded in his blood as you glanced over at him, "Show me." He needed to see it, hear you say the words you said then.

You pulled your hand away from the birds turning to face him. You took his hands, then slowly you lowered yourself to the floor onto your knees raising your palms in supplication. "Please," You bowed your head. "Please let him come home to me." You never begged for anything, but you had begged for him. He keeps his eyes on you as you slowly looked up at him, his hand comes under your chin. It must have worked. He was set to be sent to District 2, but things had changed and he had come back. You climbed to your feet hands still holding his, "She said she always planned on letting you return, but you need to learn a lesson first." He knew you agreed with her, "And then one day she called me in, played the recording for me, said you were on your way back." Your body pressed into his, his hard cock aching at the friction, your whisper a caress onto his lips. "I came so hard that night imagining it, came so hard knowing my Coryo was clawing his way back to me."

He wants to ask why you didn't come running into his arms when he stepped off the platform, but it made sense why you didn't. You had wanted to see what he would do next, if he would submit to his woes, grovel in his defeat, or would he climb, would he take what was so rightfully his.

"And what would you have done if she hadn't let me return?" He asked needing to know, needing to know you burned for him the same.

Your eyes honed in on his face, "Anything."

"My sweet villain." He strokes a thumb down your cheek. "My darling angel."

"All for you."

He kisses you softly, delicately letting his mouth slide across yours tasting the sweetness you offered like a drug. Your tongue slips through, spit exchanged in unison, swallowing each other, fingers curling around his neck as you pulled him to you.

"Stop." Felix voice cuts across the room. "Enough." You take too long to peel your mouth away from Coriolanus, too long to slyly look at your fiancé. "You're leaving with me. Now."

"She doesn't want to go anywhere with you." Coriolanus sneered.

"Look," Felix sighed, "I have let this go on for far longer than it should have, I knew you didn't want to marry me and you wanted to rebel against that, I figured you'd grow out of this phase once we left the Academy." Your eye twitched, "Enough now, you're going to leave with me, and you'll end this affair before you embarrass us both."

You don't move.

Felix takes a single step forward out of frustration. "Do you even know what I've been protecting you against? He's a murderer, did you know that? He killed a tribute in the games, killed Sejanus too." Well at least he didn't know about Highbottom, or your father. "He'll kill you too, if it came down to it, if you got in his way."

"Right now Felix," Coriolanus glares. "You're the only one in my way."

Something like fear flares for a second as he takes another step forward. "He's using you! I read all his letters he tried to write you asking you to make someone bring him back here." He wants to feel upset you never received his soft hearted words, but maybe it was for the best you never saw that side of him. He glances at your face, a mask of cool indifference, but your eyes quivered for a single moment in wake of the lost news you would never have, and resentment fills your features. You finally began moving forward towards Felix, his demeanor began to relax as you listened but your steps fell silently violent. "I figured if he was sent to 12 he would be far enough away from you, we could finally be happy."

You stilled, "You."

"I had to!" He exclaimed, "He would have never stopped coming after you! I had to tell Highbottom he cheated, had to get him away from you." Everything. It was all Felix's fault, all of it was his fault. Coriolanus's eyes flared wide with unadulterated rage, he wanted to murder Felix with his bare hands, he wanted to tie him down and force him to watch as Coriolanus took you over and over again while he could do nothing but finish in his own pants because that was the type of scum Felix was. but he clenched his jaw, no he didn't want Felix to see you, he didn't want Felix to hear only what Coriolanus could hear, that was a better punishment, to never know what it was like to truly have you, and later tonight he would die with you standing over him.

"You disgust me."

"I was trying to protect you." Felix urged again as his hands came around you. "H-He's a monster."

"I made sure of it." Your smile was laced with venom as your hands wrapped around his forearms. "You always lacked a spine Felix Ravinstill, I knew that the minute your sweaty adolescent hand grabbed mine you were nothing but a weak little boy who had everything handed to him." You sighed, disappointed. "And I wanted a man."

His eyes flickered around your face, behind him water lapped from the wake the eels made in the small circular pool. "He's a liar and a cheat. He will never amount to anything more than that."

"Neither will you." You glanced over at Coriolanus. "Yes." You finally said a weight seeming to move off his chest, "I will marry you."

Felix scoffed hiding the shake of his breath, "You can't be serious. We're already engaged you would be a fool to call this off now. You're a woman with no education, no family, you'll be ruined."

"I am not a woman, I am a god." You took one step back fingers still grazing his forearms and from afar it would have looked affectionate, "I was born to marry the President of Panem, and you know what they say..." You stood in front of him and something in Felix's eyes shifted with realization.

"Snow lands on top."

You pushed watching as his body fell backwards towards the open pool. He was too far away to fall fully in so his back hit cement roughly, something cracking in his spine as one wrapped around his shoulder yanking him the rest of the way in his screams echoing around the room. You stood there watching as they swallowed his body deeper and deeper until he was nothing, then you tugged that ugly ring off your finger tossing it in after him.

He moved around the pool, avoiding the puddles of water made when his body had hit the water, until he's standing in front of you. He admires you for one second, one second to take in the calm look on your face in the wake of murder, the glow that seemed to settle around you as eels swam around your dead fiancée. Then he's moving, connecting your mouth, tongues melding with each other as he sealed his lips around yours finding heaven in your honeyed spit. He was crushing your against him as you twisted your hands into his shirt, pulling it out of his pants as he pushed the hem of your skirt up, needy, insatiable.

"You're a monster." He tells you the very thing he knew himself to be, kissing down your neck.

"And you love me for it." He does, but he'd never let you know that, never give you that kind of power over him.

The two of you are on the ground as he cups your ass, rolling your hip against his hard cock fighting with his pants. He can feel your arousal seeping down to his skin as you unbutton his pants, freeing him from restraint. You stroke him once, twice, three times before you lift up and sink down on-top of him. You slide down excruciatingly slow, letting him stretch and fill every inch of you. He watches your head fall back, your throat bob as the moan breaks loose, until your hips are flush against his.

He's reaching a hand out to go under your shirt and cup your breast as you take a shaky breath. Then you are moving, rolling your hips along him hand gripping at his chest.

"Look at you." He can't help it falling from his lips as he watches you ride him, watches you slide up and down his cock, kneading the flesh of your breast. "My angel."

You were an angel, God's favorite angel.

You would go by a different name now too.

"Mrs. Snow."

You moaned louder as his other hand found your clit between bodies rubbing circles into it as you fucked him faster chasing your own high. He digs his hand into your bra rolling your nipple between his fingers, thrusting his hips up to meet your own hitting the deepest parts of you. Your foot plants on the ground and you tilt forward, nails digging into his shoulders. He knows your close as your sweet breath pants into his face, as your lean down and swallow his mouth with your own whining down his throat.

"Cum for me." He nips at your bottom lip. "Come on, be a good girl and cum on my cock."

He feels you clamp down around him, crying out his name as your orgasm washes over you still moving up and down his hard length in a lazy motion riding yourself out on him. He grips your hips and flips you over pushing your leg up to his shoulder spreading your other knee out to open you up.

He pounds into your wet cunt the lewd slapping sound overtaking the small wake of waves in the pool beside you. You grip his arms as he forces your body against his, thrusting roughly into you as you fall apart within his hands. You claw down his chest, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you, and his hand finds your throat and you love how harsh he could be with you. You had both changed in your time apart, or maybe there was no point in hiding the darkness after everything you'd done for each other.

"No more games." He hisses out with each brutal snap of his hips. "You're mine now." He hooks his fingers in your bottom jaw opening it wide, and then he spits down your throat. "Fucking say it." He lets his fingers slide off as you leave your lips parted for him to spit into your mouth again moaning for it, for him.

"Yours." You nod fervently lapping up his saliva, arching your back, "I'm yours Coryo." A second orgasm hits you, squeezing around him too tightly. He slams into you one last time before cumming deep, fucking all of it into you letting your legs fall numbly around him. "It was all for you anyways." You whisper once he stills letting him brush stray hair away from your glistening flushed face. "The games...I only played them for you."

He leans down, "Well I guess that makes you a victor too." He kisses you gently feeling your arms wrap around his neck. After a few minutes, he pulls out of you tucking himself back in his pants and helping you to your feet.

You glance down at the calming waters no ounce of remorse there for not taking the quieter route of poison. He thinks a violent end was more fitting too, for all that Felix had put the two of you through. You wave your hand around, "You need to delete the footage." You're moving bending down towards one of the puddles. "Before anyone sees, we'll say he tripped or whatever." You flash a wicked grin, "Another accident darling."

You stick your hand into one of the puddles and splash it onto your face. You stand up and start screaming. "Help! Please!" You wail running towards the door. "Please he fell in! He's dying!" He was dead the second he fell in but you don't let on to that. You shoot him a look, "Go."

He's stands there in awe of you, but what else is new.

Then he's moving heading to the computer to edit the footage of you murdering your fiancée to be with Coriolanus Snow.

You move in a week later after all the funerals and arrangements were made. You came in the cover of darkness keeping a low profile regarding your new life; he didn't blame you for wanting to, best to let the dust settle to avoid looking suspicious.

He watches you in his bed, dawn's sunlight peeking through curtains as you sprawl out under rumpled sheets. You're beautiful, like a fallen angel from the heavens dropped onto his mattress just for him.

His hand runs down your spine feeling the sleepy groan rumble up your back as you turn to look at him. "My whole life all I've ever wanted was to wake up next to you." It's too soft he knows, he'll blame the lack of sleep due to fucking you through the night. He kisses your naked shoulder, fingers tracing the golden necklace that held a small 'C' on it, "I almost lost you."

"You almost did." You agree knowing you had almost turned your back on him, let him slip away to wallow in his mistakes.

"Never again," He mutters into your skin.

"I'll take that ring now." You purred into his ear.

He sits up digging into his bedside table fetching out the ring box, and opening it up for you. He plucks it out to slid onto your finger perfectly, watching you admire it with a certain sweetness he only could associate with you. "Mrs. Snow." He caresses your cheek, "First Lady of Panem."

You smile up at him, "I like the sound of that, Mr. President."

THE END

endnotes: omg hi thank you all so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed reading!!! i truly believe all the nice comments on part one gave me performance anxiety about this so hoping it meets everyones standards 😭😭

taglist: @ryswritingrecord , @aoi-targaryen , @urfavnoirette , @sleepysongbirdsings

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comment Section (pt.2)

─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Commenters are starting to get more and more worked up the longer you and Spencer grow apart.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, angst, attempt at comedy, more angst, light swearing, fluff, mutual pinning.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART ONE | PART THREE | PART 3.5

─ · · A/N: thank you all seriously for the comments and support on the first part, hope you all enjoy this next one equally as much :)

─────── · ·

Super Smash Bros: Battle of the Chosen's

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] Like 100k | Dislike | Share | ... 7.75M subscribers 1.1M views 2 weeks ago click to expand

4,683 Comments

username97 2 weeks ago Dear Diary, its day 14 and there are still no videos of Spencer and (name) together. username05 2 weeks ago Always love the Shayne and Spencer duo, but can they go back to their partners now? username39 6 days ago When's the next episode of Bored AF?? username22 6 days ago Okay, but why haven't I seen (name) in any gaming channel videos lately? I haven't watched in a while, can someone get me caught up? ▼ 12 replies ↳ username66 5 days ago So Spencer didn't exactly explain to (name) that FNAF was not the simulation-type game or party/table-top that they are used to playing but a horror-simulation. (name) got really scared and then super annoyed at him and they haven't been seen together in videos since then. ↳ username69 2 days ago They're overreacting, has to be doing this for views or attention. No other explanation. ↳ username66 1 day ago (edited) (name) is their own person with their own emotions and friendships. In the field they work it intermingles with life and the lives of so many others in ways that people like us will never get to experience correctly. They are entitled to their own feelings and if they think Spencer broke their trust somehow- they can act however they want however right or wrong that appears to others. ↳ username69 1 days ago Well maybe you both should just grow the eff up and shut the h*ll up. ↳ username01 1 day ago Maybe you should do the same username69? Can't even swear like a real fucking adult. username51 just now And so the Chosen Universe Lore expands... username81 just now first.

─────── · ·

Guess That Smosh Skit!

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] Like 62k | Dislike | Share | ... 7.75M subscribers 477k views 2 weeks ago click to expand

2,199 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator SmoshGames ✓ 2 weeks ago Both new and old shows are coming soon, what are you hoping to see next? ▼ 765 replies ↳ username01 2 weeks ago Tell Spencer to buy (name) flowers, on theirs hands and knees begging, or write them a card- anything!!! ↳ username33 1 hour ago Spencer and (name) recreate famous ********** scenes. * [this comment has been censored for interfering with Youtube's Community Guidelines; for more information press HERE] ↳ username39 6 days ago BORED AF PLEASEEEEE. username20 1 hour ago Please, please, please bring Olivia back more, her small mutterings always have me rolling on the floor XD username24 3 hour ago I 100% forgot about the Every [Blank] Ever series! So good to see bits of it again! username55 2 weeks ago Anyone else keep rewatching old videos and fan-edits of (yourshipname)? I'm gonna keep acting like nothing ever happened like some other people...

─────── · ·

my favorite (name) and spencer moments :)

(Yourshipname) Updates [Subscribe] Like | Dislike | Share | ... 1.12K subscribers 217k views 3 years ago click to expand

999 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator (yourshipname)updates ✓ 2 weeks ago Thank you for all the support on this video recently! I wish it didn't have to come from this though... P-P username55 2 weeks ago Even before they both appeared on camera officially, there are so many background clips of them sitting together, sharing food and vacations in pictures, even pet-sitting?? Like c'mon, theres only so much a girl can take (╥﹏╥) username11 30 minutes ago This comment section is for our collective tears ಥ_ಥ username09 just now 19:45 My favorite clip ever of them, its so soft. Spencer with his eyes closed as (name) fixes their hair in the background of TNTL behind the screen. They're so effortless with one another... username03 1 week ago Lets make a thread! Post your favourite (yourshipname) moments underneath this comment! ▼ 173 replies ↳ username97 1 hour ago Spencer and (name) sharing a kickstart during DND sessions. Spencer and (name) sharing a kickstart during DND sessions. Spencer and (name) sharing a kickstart during DND sessions. Spencer and (name) sharing a kickstart during DND sessions. ↳ username66 2 days ago (name) being so excited over beating an Elden Ring Boss on stream that she runs and kisses Spencer on the cheek before brake dancing in the background while Spencer stares blankly at the camera, cheeks red and eyes wide. MWAHAHHAHA ↳ username04 just now Would have to be (name) dropping the burrito under the table and Spencer placing his hand above their head so they don't hurt themselves 𓏗ᵕ𓏗 ↳ username02 3 days ago 2022 Truck Simulator: Spencer, hand on their knee driving. It is my kryptonite. ↳ username15 1 hour ago (name) dancing with and twirling Spencer after Smosh the Sitcom. I want it as a GIF and framed. ↳ username11 4 days ago Has anyone mentioned their San Diego panel together? That whole hour is surreal, the head resting on shoulders, gripping one another in laughter, holding hands- speaking into the mic at the same time. OR HOW THEY WERE WALKING THE FLOOR TOGETHER IN MATCHING COSPLAY AFTER. ↳ username06 1 hour ago Darts and how they acted like one another. ↳ username32 30 minutes ago 27:49 Chosen Spencer pinning (name) to the wall during that interrogation bit changed my brain chemistry. ↳ username03 just now Wow, this is most responses I've ever received- thank you everyone!! ↳ username17 15 minutes ago 17:12 Them taking a power nap together at the same desk. username33 just now How have we entered a new era of how every "Where's Anthony?" is now a "Where's Spencer/(name)???"

─────── · ·

It's Awkward... (Who Meme'd It?)

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 62k | Dislike | Share | ... 8.29M subscribers 565k views 1 week ago click to expand

5,199 Comments

username08 1 hour ago That meme coming from Ian was wild! ▼ 199 replies ↳ username87 30 minutes ago 16:16 Dog in Burning House: "Spencer when (name) doesn't want to play games with him - "this is fine, I am fine"" XDDD ↳ username02 20 minutes ago I would have never expected Ian to make that meme out of the list. ↳ username44 5 minutes ago IKR!? Like up against Alex, Courtney, and Trevor? No wonder no one picked him for it. ↳ username87 just now But we all are forgetting the best clip after: 17:12 Spencer proceeded to slip off his chair and hide underneath the table while Amanda was screaming defence and pointing fingers at the crowd. Has to be in the top 50 moments of all time. ↳ username44 just now YES! I love how the whole cast was AFTER THEM. They live for their relationship just like us. <3 username24 3 hour ago The editing team needs to be spotlighted more, BC all their memes were straight fire!!! username08 1 week ago You know when Shayne is hosting that its gonna be a good video ▼ 8 replies ↳ username97 5 days ago Doesn't Shayne already host most of the videos? ↳ username08 5 days ago That was the point- all the videos are good...

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: want a part 3 anyone? what do you want to see happen next?

[imagines--galore]

||Love Happens||

Summary: As the youngest daughter of the House of Rivendell, Annúneth has lived a sheltered life. Though that does not stop her from meeting the Prince of Greenwood. And though they start off on the wrong foot, there is one thing that neither of them can deny. 

And that is sometimes, Love simply Happens.

Pairing: Legeloas x AnnúnethOC (Hobbit, LOTR)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None

A/N: This is for @siriuslydestiny​ and @lovelyxkazuha​ Hope you enjoy your request! And this is for @entishramblings​ who hasn’t been feeling the best lately! Also this story takes place AGES before the events of the Hobbit. So Mirkwood is still called Greenwood! And Thranduil isn’t as uptight : P

It was not often that Lord Elrond lead a Hunting Party. But both his sons were away traveling, and he wanted to be sure that no lingering Orcs or Goblins would happen upon Rivendell by accident.

What he had not expected, on the journey home, was for his Hunting Party to instead become a Welcoming Party to the King of Greenwood himself.

“Thranduil, we did not expect you for another week.” Elrond called out as a way of greeting his old friend as he dismounted his horse. Thranduil offered a slight smile in return. “The weather was favorable, and the enemy few. I also wanted to put to rest the rumors of your hospitality as soon as possible. See for myself whether what I heard was truth or not.” The two Elven leaders gave a respectful tilt of the head before grasping each other’s forearms in a greeting one soldier gave another.

Elrond simply smiled in response. “You shall be the judge of that, melon nin. But for now, let us return to Rivendell together. I am sure both our arrivals are anticipated by our comrades.”

Quickly mounting their horses once more, the two Elven Leaders urged their mounts forward, their respective parties following after them.

“How fare your children Elrond? Is your youngest Arwen residing with you, or is she with her grand-sire in Lothlorien?”

Elrond gave a secret smile at the mention of Arwen being the youngest, but made no move to say anything. “She is indeed in Lothlorien, finishing the last of her studies with Galadriel. The twins are leading an expedition to the North. I have yet to hear from them, but last I received a letter, they were in high spirits.” Elrond turned his head towards Thranduil.

“And what of your son Legolas? I have not seen him yet. Did he not come with you?” A sigh fell from Thranduil’s lips, one that Elrond was all too familiar with. It was the sigh of a parent who was at their wit’s end with their child.

“He is here, but he insisted on taking the longer route. Some nonsense about seeing new sights and such.” Thranduil shook his head, not understanding the need his son had when it came to exploring. “He shall be joining us on a later day. Perhaps tomorrow.”

During their conversation, the Parties had reached Rivendell, blowing horns to announce their arrival as they did. It was truly a sight to behold, a marvel of elven architecture and design. Every aspect was flawless, the House built around nature, spacious windows and multiple rooms open to the elements.

As they crossed the bridge Thranduil could not help but comment. “Though I much prefer the Woods of my home, I must say Elrond, you have indeed taken care of your home all these years. It is just as when I first laid eyes upon it when I was an elfling.”

Elrond smiled in a polite manner. He knew Thranduil, knew that the King hardly gave compliments outright. This was to the best of his efforts. He did feel a sense of pride, as their horses cantered across the bridge and towards the main platform where several elves were already waiting to greet them. “I thank you for your kind words Thranduil.” He said as he dismounted. “But for now, let us change and reconvene for dinner. I am sure yo-”

“Ada!"

The cry rang loud and clear from the top of the stairs, cutting off whatever else Elrond had to say. The assembled Elves spun towards the source of the sound. A figure revealed itself. The skirt of their dress lifted to their knees, pale legs and feet bared to those standing below, bright golden hair flowing behind her, unbraided and free. And even from afar one could see a simple silver circlet resting on her forehead.

Lord Elrond's entire demeanor changed from a reserved elf and leader to that of an overjoyed parent, as he held his arms open in greeting, a smile on his lips.

"Annúneth!"

The elleth launched herself into her father's arms, holding him close, her face buried in his chest. Elrond returned the embrace just as lovingly as it was given. The Elves of Rivendell smiled fondly at the display of familial love. King Thranduil and the rest of his party looked on in slight surprise at the golden haired elleth who was now gazing up at her father, relief yet slight concern evident on her delicate features.

"You were not harmed, were you Ada?" She asked, her voice soft and light. The elves started to move, taking the horses to the stables while the guests stood where they were. Elrond shook his head, resting a hand atop the soft head of gold locks, so like her mother's.

"As you can see I am quite alright my dear Yelde. You need not worry about me." The elleth shook her head in response.

"I shall always worry when you leave Ada. As will Arwen, Elladen and Elrohir." Her gaze finally shifted from her father's familiar features to the newcomers. Elrond followed her line of sight. Keeping one arm around her shoulders he smiled at Thranduil.

“Thranduil, may I introduce you to my youngest, Annúneth.” He gently pushed his daughter towards the King. “Annúneth, this is Thranduil. He resides as King over Greenwood and is a dear friend.” The King towered over the elleth, but that did not deter her from meeting his graze briefly, before lowering into an elegant curtsy, her eyes dropping to the floor for a brief moment as she did. 

“You honor us with your presence King Thranduil.” She said, her voice ever polite and ever gentle. The older elf tilted his head in return. “And you surprise us with yours, Lady Annúneth.” His gaze shifted towards his friend, who was trying his best to hide his mirth. “Considering we were not made aware of it.”

Annúneth glanced at her father. “I shall leave Ada to explain his reasoning for I am sure he has an extensive list.” She cleverly stated, stepping away from her father’s embrace. Her grey eyes shifted to the rest of the assembled elves of Greenwood Annúneth lifted her head, her shoulders back as she addressed them.

In the blink of an eye she had morphed from a loving daughter, to the Lady of the House. And with her Mother having sailed to Valinor, and sister presently absent, the task did fall to her.

“Brothers and Sisters.” A look of surprise passed each elven face when she spoke in the tongue of their forest, Silvan. “On behalf of my father, Lord Elrond, Protector of Rivendell, I, his daughter Annúneth, welcome you to our home. Please follow me so that I may guide you to your rooms where you can freshen up before we all sit down for dinner. Your horses will be taken care of.”

With that the golden haired elven maid turned. When before she had been racing down the stairs, this time she seemed to glide along, leading the eager elves to where they would be residing during their stay at Rivendell.

Leaving a proud father, and an elven King who was seldom surprised and impressed.

And for once, Thranduil wasn’t loathe to admit that he was both.

                                             ————————–

“Will you now reveal to me the secrecy behind your youngest daughter’s existence Elrond?”

The wine hadn’t even been poured, the doors barely shut when Thrandul had demanded answers. Despite years on Middle-Earth, it would seem patience was one virtue his friend had no desire to perfect.

Thank the Valar he had enough for the both of them.

Pouring the wine, Elrond held the delicately wrought cup towards his friend. “It is a rather long tale my friend.” He stated, gesturing towards a pair of high backed chairs where he would usually conduct lessons with Annúneth. Thranduil, having taken a sip, sat down, watching as Elrond sat next to him. There was a brief moment of silence, as Elrond drank his wine.

Then he spoke.

“Celebrían and I were blessed and content with our three children. We had thought surely Valar did not seek to bless us again. But then we were wrong.” Elrond smiled as thoughts of his youngest daughter filled his head and made his heart swell with fatherly affection and love. “We were blessed with Annúneth in late Autumn in the year 1805.”

Thranduil raised a brow. “That is quite a long time to conceal the birth of an elven child Elrond.” He said, to which his friend nodded. “I agree, but it was her grandmother who insisted that we keep knowledge of her existence a secret, and tell as few others as possible.”

A frown creased his forehead as he pursed his lips, hands clasped around the stem of his wine glass. “We were not aware of the reasoning behind Galadriel‘s decision, but we did not question it. The only people to know of her existence were our family, a few other elves and, of course, Gandalf. No one outside of Rivendell, save her grandparents and Gandalf even knew of her.”

Bringing the glass to his lips he took a sip, gathering strength for what was to come next. “Then Celebrían was captured by Orcs and held captive for days.” His heart hurt even after all these years. The horror his beloved had to endure, the torture those monsters and inflicted upon her. “It was Annúneth who found where she was. She too possesses the gift of Sight. Yet hers only works when she is asleep, and is more concerned with present events and what outcome they might have. Through her intervention, the twins were able to save their Mother from a truly gruesome death and return with her.”

Thranduil frowned. “But then why hide her away? Why not use her gift to change the future as we see fit?” He asked, leaning forward as he awaited Elrond’s answer. The Elf Lord raised his eyes to meet Thranduil’s and the latter was surprised to see the utter sorrow and despair that was clear within his grey eyes. “The dreams she sees, my friend, they cause her unbearable pain. The night she had the dream about her mother dying, Annúneth was near inconsolable. She could feel her mother’s pain. And not just the physical strain.”

His eyes widening in realization, Thranduil felt a strange feeling akin to protection rise within him as he thought of the young elleth experiencing something truly grotesque and unmentionable. “You hid her away.” He said, his voice low. “So she would not meet people, so that she wouldn’t dream about them.”

Elrond nodded. “That was my intention when she was younger. But now, under her grandmother’s guidance, Annúneth has truly gained control over her abilities and has come further then I could ever have hoped.” The pride was evident in his tone as he finished his wine and stood. He paused at the window, having spied a familiar golden head, so like her mother’s, drifting by. Sometimes, when he looked outside his window and saw her, he mistook her for her mother.

Out of all his children, Annúneth had inherited her mother’s beautiful golden hair. Perhaps the reason her grandparents doted upon her so was because she reminded them of their own daughter.

“And are you willing to share your daughter with the world?” Thranduil asked, as he came to stand beside his friend, looking down at the elleth as well. Elrond laughed softly. “If I had my way, I would keep her hidden away from the horrors of the world.” He said truthfully but then he shook his head.

“And yet, I cannot keep something beautiful from the rest of the world. That would be truly selfish of me.”

                                            ————————–

Perhaps preparing a basket for a picnic that would happen in the morning wasn’t the best of ideas. She could always do that tomorrow, yet Annúneth found herself too excited to sleep. Instead, she had made her way towards the kitchen and lined up several baskets along the shelf, to be filled with all manners of eatables to take for the picnic tomorrow.

Her father had permitted she show their guests the beauty of their home, and she had suggested the meadows nearby. It was Spring, and the flowers would be in bloom. And since she had never had the chance to share her home with anyone else, Annúneth was eager to show their guests everything. Already she knew them all by name and was on her way to making friends with most of them.

Humming a long forgotten lullaby under her breath, Annúneth sifted through the jars of honey, trying to get the biggest ones from the back, where she kept them hidden away from her brothers. They had a tendency to go through honey as if it would run out and they would be left barren. Shaking her head at her brother’s obvious gluttonous nature when it came to any sweet concoction, Annúneth continued her task.

However, a sudden noise had her stilling in her movements.

She had been rummaging through a shelf that was partially hidden from the rest of the kitchen, yet gave her a full view of the room. And since she did not light a candle, choosing to work under the light of the moon, Annúneth was completely hidden in the shadows.

The sight of a hooded figure moving about the kitchen had her drawing a silent gasp.

Not a guest, for why would they sneak about wearing a hood?

A thief perhaps?

The figure moved about, inspecting the basket before taking out one of the loaves of bread Annúneth had placed within a few moments ago. From a young age, her brothers had taught her to be wary, and though it did not deter her from being the open and friendly elleth that she was, it did help her in drawing on suspicion when the situation called for it.

And presently, it did.

Her eyes darted around, to see if she could use something as a weapon. Silver grey eyes landed on a heavy pan. As quietly as she was able to Annúneth took one off, gripping the heavy handle between delicate hands. She would’ve preferred her sword, but since she didn’t have it on her, using the pan as a weapon to defend herself, if need be, would have to do.

The figure’s back was turned to her, and she could make out the soft sound of chewing as they ate the bread.

Providing Annúneth with the perfect opportunity to step out of her hiding spot, the frying pan swinging through the air.

                                            ————————–

He had not expected to return early.

Or rather so late.

It would seem everyone had retired for the night, and since Legolas and his few companions had not entered from the main entrance, their arrival went unannounced. Something that he preferred really, since he had no desire to make pleasantries.

At least not until he had eaten something.

While his companions took care of the horses and moved off to search for the rest of their party, Legolas made his way towards the kitchen. He knew Rivendell well enough to navigate his way through the dark and towards the empty kitchen. He kept his hood up, not wanting to be recognized by his hair. A rather unusual color even amongst elves.

Catching sight of the several baskets that were lined up neatly on the counter, the young Prince paused, a little curious at the arrangement. His growling stomach, however, didn’t give him much time to contemplate on it. Moving forward, he peered into one of the baskets, and seeing a loaf of bread within, pulled it out. Tearing off a piece he began to chew, enjoying the milky taste that was infused within the bread. Strange, yet not at all bad. Or perhaps he was simply too hungry to complain.

The unsuspecting elf was simply enjoying his meager, yet delicious, meal when the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. His eyes widened, he dropped the half eaten bread he held. Pivoting on his feet, and seeing the descending pan aimed towards his head, the Prince threw his hand out, catching the hand that held the handle and stopping it midair.

And not a moment too soon, since the pan stopped just a few inches shy of his temple.

                                            ————————–

The two figures stood motionless, their gazes locked.

The sudden pivot of his head had the hood of Legolas’s cloak slipping from his head, allowing his assailant to meet his eyes without the shadow of it obscuring their vision.

Annúneth had to tilt her head back to meet the stranger’s gaze. She could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest as she allowed her eyes to take in the rest of the stranger’s features. Then again, she was not the only one occupied in such a manner. Perhaps it would not have been wise to think of the stranger as handsome, despite the dirt that marred his face, and yet, she found herself thinking along the words regardless. Though that did not mean her resolve to hit him, should he be a threat, lessened.

To say he was surprised at the ferocity his assailant seemed to exude would be an understatement. Legolas was taken aback by the strength he had to use, just to keep the elleth’s choice of weapon knocking him unconscious. She was strong, of that he had no doubt. And yet, the fierceness did not take away from the beauty that was her face. Not to mention her hair. A halo of pure light that seemed to cascade down her back in rivers of gold.

A twitch of her arm had him returning to this current predicament.

“Why do you attack me?” The stranger asked in her mother tongue, his grip on her wrist not loosening. A good thing, Annúneth supposed, since she would’ve hit him. A scowl creased her forehead as she responded. “Do I not have the right to defend my own home from a vagrant vagabond such as yourself?”

Blue eyes blinked. “Vagabond?” He repeated, and Annúneth could see that despite the wariness in his expression there was amusement there at her choice of word.

The both of them were still locked in position, with Annúneth’s arms raised above her head, fingers grasping the handle of the pan. However, both of her wrists were being kept in a firm grip by Legolas. Remembering what her brothers had taught her, Annúneth pivoted on her feet, throwing her shoulder out to try and knock the elf off his feet, or at least surprise him to let go of her wrists.

Which he did, allowing Annúneth to raise the pan in front of her as a makeshift weapon. “Make yourself known, lest you wish to be thrown out.” She stated, her voice firm and sure. Even as her grey eyes flickered to his hair. A color that looked vaguely familiar, yet somehow, she could not seem to place where she had seen it before.

Despite the weariness that wore down on him, and the fact that he should end the confrontation by simply telling her who he was, Legolas paused. Her referral to him as a Vagrant Vagabond had been amusing, and he wanted to hear what else she would say about him. “And if I wish to keep my identity a secret?” He asked, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he picked up the bread he had dropped and placed it behind him on the counter. “Will you truly throw me out in the cold? Come now, I had heard tales of the hospitality of the elves of Rivendell, was it all simply a myth?”

As he spoke, Legolas began to walk, prompting Annúneth to take a step as well, and without the either of them realizing, they began to trace a circle with each step they took. “We offer hospitality to those who use the front door like civilized beings, not steal in, in the dead of the night.” She responded, her words sharp and clear, grey eyes never wavering from the figure. It disconcerted her, how ill at ease he appeared to be. Perhaps he had been here before? But then she would’ve met him.

Legolas paused briefly to pick up a bushel of grapes from a fruit platter and began to eat it. “I am not civilized, is that what you mean?” He asked, speaking around a mouthful of grapes, and not bothering to wipe some of the juice that traced from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. A happy accident that only seemed to strengthen Annúneth’s opinion of him. “You look as if you took a tumble down a hill, straight into a river of mud, before purposefully step into every piece of dirt you could find.” She responded, prompting the stranger to glance down at himself.

“I do not look that bad.” He responded, looking a little put off, to which Annúneth smirked. “You have leaves in your hair.” She deadpanned.

Legolas ran a hand through his hair, and sure enough, a few wayward leaves fluttered to the floor. He grimaced. Perhaps her wording of him had been correct. “Since that is the case,” He muttered to himself, before pausing in his steps. Turning so he could look at the elleth, the young Prince tilted his head in a slight bow, a hand over his heart, his gaze trained to the ground. “Pray will you not show this Vagabond the kindness he does not deserve My Lady, and allow him a place to clean and rest.” His posture stayed the same, but his gaze lifted to meet her own from across the room.

She may be a wary young elf maiden, but she was not without compassion. His words, nay the honesty in his eyes, had her lowering her arms, the pan now hanging at her side. “And how can I be sure, that you are not here to hurt my family or my home?” She asked, unsure how he would reassure her of that.

Legolas straightened, hand hand still over his heart, and something deep within him compelled him to say the next few words. “You have my word, My Lady. While I walk these halls, no harm shall come to your home, your loved ones.”

His gaze held hers.

“Or you.”

                                            ————————–

Call her a naive fool, but she took his word to heart.

And had found herself leading him towards one of the empty rooms where the rest of the guests were staying. She was acutely aware of his presence beside her, as she navigated through the darkened hallway with ease. While Legolas had to force his eyes to stay straight ahead, since they seemed to have developed a habit of straying in Annúneth‘s direction every now and then.

Sooner then he would’ve liked, they came to a stop in front of a door, which she gestured for him to enter, with a delicate sweep of her hand. Legolas, stepped forward, his resting hand on the handle. But then he paused. 

Annúneth, who had turned around without a word, intent on walking back to her own room, had paused as well.

Even now, as she walked to the private dining hall where breakfast was being served, Annúneth felt a strange tremble run through her body, as the memory of last night played in her mind.

They had both looked over their shoulders at one another, their gazes meeting and despite the late hour, Annúneth had never felt more awake then she did in that moment, standing there in the presence of the stranger. While Legolas found himself wanting to stay in her presence, despite the fact he did not even know her name.

And before he could even ask, she had walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I see you have seen to grace us with your presence Sister.” Elladan called as Annúneth entered the room, closing the door behind her as she did. She smiled as she approached the table and took a seat beside her father. “Not all of us have the luxury to come straight down to breakfast as soon as they are awake Brother.” The younger elleth responded, quickly leaning forward and kissing her father in greeting.

Tilting her head in greeting in Thranduil’s direction, Annúneth turned to break her fast. As the siblings squabbled, teased and argued throughout the meal, Elrond barely batted an eye as he ate, his plate being filled at least twice by his daughter without his knowing, since he was busy speaking with Thranduil. The elf-king, however, noticed everything, his sharp eye and keen ears picking up on everything.

Noticing, in particular, the extra seat that had been placed beside him, that remained empty.

Clearly Legolas had slept in, tired from his late arrival.

Shame, he had wanted his son to make himself known to their hosts during his presence.

                                            ————————–

The picnic Annúneth had planned, set out once breakfast was over. It was only an hour’s ride to the flower meadows that was teeming with woodland creatures of all manner. The grass was tall, as were the flowers, the animals quite tame, used to the elves who would come to visit from time to time.

The place was something of a sanctuary for Annúneth, and she was more then happy to share it with her guests. They dismounted from their horses, set them loose to wander about and soon everyone began to do the same.

Fingers skimmed over flowers. Trees were climbed and branches used as perches. Deer were petted and stroked. Butterflies were chased and admired. Flutes were played, and harps were strung. Food was shared and eaten. A few voices rose in song, gentle and soothing.

And in the middle of it all, Annúneth sat alone amongst the tall stalks, with only the top of her golden head visible, with a pretty flower crown adorning her forehead, her hair unbound, her face aglow.

Her delicate fingers worked on making another flower crown. While her own was made using flowers of varying shades of yellow, the one she made presently comprised of flowers that nature had shaded with a certain blue hue.

A blue that reminded her of a certain stranger.

As was the norm, she was humming under her breath, sometimes singing along with the rest of her companions, content in her task.

That is until someone decided to join her.

“We meet again.” His voice came, familiar and yet unknown at the same time. Without looking up from her fingers as she twined the flower stalks, Annúneth responded. “You are within the vicinity of my home. It would’ve been strange if we did not meet again.”

He laughed. The sound strangely melodic, or at least to her ears. An odd comparison, yet it made sense. She still did not look at him. “Are you still going to treat me as the vagabond you believe I am?” He asked, to which she responded with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “If the shoe fits.” Humming in thought, as if contemplating on how to make her see that she was wrong, Legolas reached out to pick one of the blue flowers she would be using for her crown and twirled it between his fingers.

“I have done my best to appear presentable. Will you not look to see if it is so?” There was simply something about her, that prompted him to get a rise out of her somehow. Be it in a positive or negative light. It was rather unlike him, to be vying for the attention of an elleth in such a way. And yet, he found he could not help himself.

Setting the finished crown in her lap, Annúneth pursed her lips. Valar, he was being more persistent then her brothers. And that was saying something.

Still, she turned her head, a few wisps of her hair waving gently in the breeze, partially covering her lips and nose, though she made no attempt to push them back.

The previous night, when she had seen him, Annúneth had seen past the dirt and grime, and had seen the handsome face beneath. Somehow, his face appeared different then it was. The night before, he had appeared mysterious and alluring. Perhaps an effect of the moon? That must be it, for in the sunlight, he appeared calm, at ease and............free.

And just as handsome as he had the night before.

Perhaps he should have braced himself before he had asked her to look at him. Because while she was taken aback by him, he certainly felt his very heart stutter in his chest as those piercing grey eyes lifted to meet his gaze. While the moon had made her hair appear almost silvery last night, the morning sun showed its true golden beauty.

As the breeze blew, gentle and slow, the two elves found themselves simply sitting there, looking at one another. Caught in some spell that neither of them had cast. Or at least not consciously.

“Have I....passed your judgement?” He asked, his voice low, to which she responded with a slight tilt of her head, the action just barely noticeable. “It will take more then your charming attributes to earn my trust.”

Slowly, as if afraid that she were a dream that would fade should he startle either himself or her, his hand lifted, fingers curling along the soft strands of her hair. The tips of his fingers skimmed along the warm skin of her cheek, slowly tracing a path towards her ear, where he tucked the wayward wisps of hair.

All so he could see her face fully.

“Then perhaps I should strive harder to win it.” He said, and if anyone were to hear the conviction in his tone, they would have no doubt of his intention to do just that.

Annúneth felt her very breath stall, and had to force herself to keep her eyes from fluttering shut, just to savor the sensation of his touch against her skin. This was so strange. How could a complete stranger, one she deemed rude and a vagabond, have such an intense effect on her?

His blue eyes seemed to be speaking to the very depth of her being, and it did not make her feel vulnerable. On the contrary, she had never felt more.........safe. Which was a rather rare occurrence given her gifts.

Her lips set in a gentle smile that was just barely there. “I look forward to seeing you put in the effort Vagabond.” The elleth lifted the flower crown she had finished, and carefully set it around his head, admiring how the blue petals matched his eyes perfectly.

Her fingers accidentally grazed his temple as she pulled back. Legolas stilled, his eyes widening a fraction as a warmth raced through his body. One that engulfed his entire heart and simmered just there under his skin, a pleasant sensation that he would be reliving for the rest of the day.

Annúneth felt the shift in the air between them, prompting her to return her hands to her lap, lest she find herself unconsciously tracing his features, an urge she felt rise within her the more they sat there, looking at one another. Truly whatever spell had been cast was quite a powerful one, for the only way it was broken, was a voice calling out to Annúneth.

Breaking away from his gaze, Annúneth called back to whoever had said her name.

“Annúneth.” She heard him say, startling her into realizing that it was the first time her name was uttered in his presence. “Is that your name?” He asked, to which she raised an eyebrow. “Considering I responded to it, it would not take a particularly sharp mind to realize that it was.”

Unlike before, there was no sharpness behind her words. Just a simple, playful teasing lilt of her voice that had him smiling at her. “And now that you know my name.” She continued, oblivious to the way he was smiling at her. “It is only right that I should know yours.”

She glanced over her shoulder, waving at whoever had called her, informing them that she would be with them momentarily. “Legolas.” He said, once she had returned her gaze to his.

Unbidden, his name rose to her lips. “Legolas.” Rising to her feet, Annúneth tilted her head at him playfully, the flower crown still adorning her head. “I hope your stay at Rivendell will be a pleasant one.”

With that she turned and walked away, leaving him, and missing the words he whispered. Words that were lost to the wind. “I believe it already is.”

                                             ————————–

“Elrond, I have been patient enough and I believe it is time I tell you my true reason for coming here.”

Having been expecting such a conversation to come up soon, Elrond responded with a nod and a gesture for Thranduil to take a seat beside him. He was in his study, going over a manuscript Gandalf had brought him while passing through Rivendell. “I believe I am aware of what you speak of.” He said, shutting the leather bound book and setting it aside. Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

“So you have seen it I presume.”

It was more of a statement then an inquiry, but Elrond still nodded.

Since he possessed the gift of foresight, it was not surprising one of his children should inherit a semblance of it in some way. Though while Annúneth shared all that she would see in her dreams with her father, Elrond did not share much. At least not when his visions pertained to his children.

And he had had one such vision. Of Annúneth. His beloved sunshine.

“As a father I have been dreading this day.” He spoke, looking towards the wall where several portraits hung. One of each of his children. His gaze was focused on the elleth with golden hair and expressive grey eyes. “But I know as well as anyone, that no matter what, we cannot change what is predestined.”

Thranduil too followed Elrond’s line of sight. For a moment a stab of pain echoed through his very soul, as he was reminded of the Queen he had lost so long ago. His beloved.

“No, we cannot.” He muttered, thinking of all the ways he had tried to save her from her gruesome fate but had failed. “But I give you my word Elrond.” The two elven patriarchs turned their heads, knowing a solemn vow was to take place.

“I shall take care of her, as if she were my own.” Thranduil vowed.

If Elrond was willing to agree to it, then surely his own son would have no qualms about the arrangement. After all, Elrond would not send his beloved daughter to a place where she would not be loved.

“It would seem the joining of our two houses has been inevitable.” Elrond said with a sad smile. “I wish I could say that I was happy about it, but in truth, my heart is torn, for one day Annúneth will leave Rivendell. Leave me.”

The Elven King shook his head. “I have no desire to take her away from you anytime soon Elrond. What the both of us have spoken of, I have no intention of speaking to my son about it for a while.” Though he had a reputation of being cold and heartless, Thranduil did have a soft spot for his only child.

And now, it would seem, Annúneth was beginning to make room in his heart as well.

“I was gifted the chance to find love, as were you.” Glancing in the direction of Annúneth‘s portrait, Thranduil continued. “I want to give our children that same gift.”

Smiling, Elrond nodded sagely. “I will have to write Galadriel and Celeborn of your intention, but I agree. Let us see what fate has in store for our children. I believe there was a rather interesting interaction between them only a few nights ago.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow, curious to know what had occurred. Elrond smiled.

“They are not aware of who the other is, and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I am able.”

It was rare for the Elven King to laugh out of amusement, for he rarely found reasons to be happy. And yet in that moment, the sheer absurdity of what had occurred as Elrond recounted it, had him throwing his head back and laughing.

                                             ————————–

Annúneth had never been one to shy away from people.

Even when she was younger, and barely had any grasp on her abilities, she would still wish to sit amongst others and converse, or sometimes just sit and listen.

The occasions where she wished to be by herself were rare.

But then sometimes, there were nights of dreams and nightmares that would weigh heavy on her mind. So many fates of so many people morphing together and overwhelming her, body and soul.

And this was one of those nights.

She sat awake on her bed, arms resting atop her knees where she had pulled her legs to her chest, her gaze listless as she stared at the open windows in front of her, the soft gossamer curtains fluttering gently. No matter how hard she tried, the visions would not leave her alone. For years she had trained with her grandmother as well as her father, to try and contain her abilities.

Not suppress them. They could never be suppressed. The visions she had of all those she met was just as involuntary to her as breathing. Sometimes, she would get visions that would show her the joy that particular being was feeling in that moment. But then there were times when all she experienced was heartache, pain and fear.

And this was one of those nights.

It would seem a few elves she had met a decade or so ago were to be slaughtered by a band of Orcs. Yes, she could send out a raven to warn them, but what if it was already happening. What if she were too late?

Hence the reason for her being awake so late at night, with her heart heavy and her mind made up to avoid company for a day or so.

For reasons unknown to her, her mind conjured the image of a certain vagabond. And that image only solidified in her mind’s eye, chasing away the remaining clouds of despair of the visions she had just seen. She frowned, biting her lower lip as she slid out of bed. Quickly changing into a simple dress and, as was the norm for her, choosing to be barefoot, the elf-maiden stepped out of her room, into the empty hallway, and made her way towards her sanctuary.

The thought of Legolas keeping her company.

                                             ————————–

He could not find her anywhere.

Legolas had walked the entirety of Rivendell and had been unable to locate Annúneth. Worry was beginning to gnaw at his chest. He knew she was not out riding for her beloved horse was in the stables. And there was no hunting party or picnic planned that she could have gone to.

It was rather the norm, for him to run into her at some point during the day. Most of the time they only nodded at one another in passing, though he always turned to look at her as she would continue on her way. Since their shared time together in the meadow, fate had not given them the chance to be in one another’s presence for longer then a few minutes.

And Legolas quickly found that despite knowing nearly nothing of the elleth, he missed her company. And he wanted to remedy the fact that he barely knew anything about her by, well, getting to know her more.

Hence his current mission: to locate Annúneth.

Opening the door to the armory, he was surprised to see his father and Elrond standing together and having a rather animated discussion with a swordsmith. Normally he would’ve joined them, but right then he was starting to get a little anxious since he couldn’t find Annúneth.

He had hoped to turn away unnoticed, but his father always had a habit of knowing when he was near. “Legolas, what brings you here?” The Elven King asked as the swordsmith walked away to whatever task he had been appointed. “I am looking for someone.” He responded, to which both Lords glanced at one another, a look passing between them that had the Prince raising his brows in silent question. Elrond smiled as he turned his attention back to Legolas. “And who is it that you are looking for?” He asked. As Lord of Rivendell, he would know where Annúneth was, wouldn’t he?

Stepping forward eagerly he voiced. “I am looking for an elleth by the name of Annúneth. Perhaps you know her?” Mirth shone in the elder elf’s eyes. Even his father looked amused, and that hardly ever happened, which only served to confuse him even more.

“I do know her. And if you cannot find her anywhere, she has probably retreated to her garden. There is a tapestry, in the Western Wing, that depicts the first meeting of Beren and Lúthien. You will find a door behind it.” He had barely finished speaking before Legolas had quickly bowed and made his retreat.

“Beren and Lúthien?” Thranduil asked, appearing just as amused as before.

Elrond smiled. “Annúneth’s favorite tale.” He said as a way of explanation before they both turned their attention to the daggers that had been in the works.

                                             ————————–

Just as Elrond had told him, the door was behind the tapestry. And beyond it was a garden unlike any he had seen before. 

It was by no means a large garden, but was comfortably sized and circular in shape, with a tree in the center, its branches laden with white flowers. Beds of flowers dotted the landscape, and a small fountain fixed into one of the walls trickled merrily into a white marble basin. 

And while the garden demanded to be explored, it was the figure that lay upon the ground just under the tree that grabbed his attention. As he approached, Annúneth sat up, the surprise clear on her face as she blinked at him. There was grass in her hair, and white petals from where the wind was blowing them to the ground.

They both blinked at one another in surprise.

Annúneth at seeing him there, in her sanctuary that only a few people knew of, and Legolas at the realization that he had been distraught over not knowing where she was all day. But then, he suddenly realized, perhaps he hadn’t seen her because she didn’t want to be seen. Perhaps she had wanted to be left alone. Unsure whether Annúneth wanted him there or not, the Prince was quick to try and retreat.

“Forgive me, My Lady. I did not wish to intrude.” He bowed before walking back towards the door.

“Wait!”

Her gentle implore had him stopping in his tracks, his hand grazing the bronze of the handle, ready to push it down. “You are not intruding.” Her voice, gentle and kind was low. “Though I am curious as to how you found me here.” Turning, Legolas found her standing underneath the tree, her gaze fixed on him. “Lord Elrond.” He responded, his voice slightly hoarse. He paused, cleared his throat. “Lord Elrond told me where I’d be able to find you.” The Prince admitted, which had Annúneth shaking her head, a fond smile on her face.

Sighing, she raised her arms on either side as a gesture of welcome. “Well since you are already here, why not explore? It would be a shame for you to not be aware of the hidden beauty Rivendell has to offer.”

Gaining some of the confidence he seemed to have lost at the sight of her so carefree and unbound as she appeared to be in the beauty of the Garden, Legolas smiled. “That would be a false claim, My Lady, since I have seen all the beauty Rivendell has to offer.”

His intense gaze never once wavered from her face.

Her mouth opened, as if she were ready to dismiss what he said and prove him wrong, but then she stopped. Realization dawned across her features, which was immediately followed by her cheeks glowing with a hint of rosiness that was so unlike her. Not to mention the way in which her heart thumped in her chest, and pleasure swirled through her very being at the compliment he had given her.

This would not be the first occasion her beauty had been mentioned, though it was always secondary compared to her far lovelier older sister Arwen. Not that Annúneth held any contempt for her sister because it was the truth. Arwen was beautiful.

And yet, at that moment, having Legolas say those words to her, she couldn’t help but feel as if she truly were the most beautiful being on Middle-Earth. And with the way he was looking at her, any on-looker would truly believe it as well. 

Legolas was able to see the physical effects of his word, and though it may have pleased any other elf that his words had been the result of it, the young Prince found himself thinking of other way to make her smile as she was right then.

Or more specifically, smile at him that way.

Silence followed his words, though not an awkward one. On the contrary, it felt strange. Legolas felt as he did before he would face an opponent. Charged and slightly anxious, eager to see what the next few moments would bring, and anticipating the outcome of it as well.

Unable to withstand the silence, or rather his gaze, any longer, Annúneth turned her head to gaze around the circular room. “This was my Mother’s garden. She would come here to clear her mind whenever she would feel distressed over something.” The elleth said, smiling at the sight of a bird that was nesting in a bush nearby. Stepping away from the door, Legolas too looked around, unable to help but admire the natural beauty that surrounded them.

Though what she said, did give him pause. “Is that why you are here. Something distresses you?” He asked, his voice gentle as he came to stand in front of her, just a foot or so away. Annúneth sighed, but nodded. “Will you tell me what it is? If it will ease your mind?” The Prince continued, not wanting to see the glint of worry in her eyes as he was right then.

Her Father had told her never to speak of her Gift to anyone, unless she trusted them completely. She had only met him a few weeks ago, and yet..............

Annúneth knew that she could trust Legolas with her life if it ever came to that.

Sighing, the elleth closed her eyes briefly. “Then perhaps it is best that we sit for this conversation.” So saying, she glided to the ground, settling on the soft grass and looked up, waiting for him to do the same. Annúneth sit closer to the tree trunk so they would have a place to rest their backs against. Once sitting beside her, and mirroring her posture so that they were both leaning against the tree.

He turned his head towards her, waiting patiently as she inhaled deeply before exhaling. “I suppose it all started when my Mother was taken by the Orcs.”

                                             ————————–

“It must’ve been hard. Seeing your Mother like that.”

It was, but Ada was always by my side. As were my brothers and sister.”

“You are fortunate to have so many people who care for you.”

“I know.”

                                             ————————–

“So you thought it was a good idea to steal your Father’s sword?”

“I was only an elfling! I was I to know it would be too heavy to lift.”

“Did you wake up the Master of Arms because you dropped it?”

“Yes, and was branded a would-be-thief by the entire Greenwood.”

                                             ————————–

“I have taken up painting for that very reason.”

“I could help you if you’d like. Mother was an avid painter, and I would sit with her in front of my own canvas with an easel to try and paint. Of course I could hardly sit still for long then ten minutes.”

“You sound as if you were quite a handful.”

“There is no doubt that I was. Even now.

                                             ————————–

“I have tried my best, but I will never get used to how sour grapes taste for me.”

“But if you sprinkle them with some sugar, does it not improve them?”

“The juice inside makes my cheeks ache. And it causes me to tear up.”

“And that is bad?”

                                             ————————–

“Do you miss your Mother?”

“I do, but I know I shall see her when it is my time to sail. Though I am sorry about your Mother.”

“She died an honorable death, fighting for her people.”

“I’m sure her reason to fight was to make sure you lived in a safer world.”

“That is a nice thought. Thank you.”

                                             ————————–

“I believe that the Valar created our Fëa because we each have a purpose here on Middle-Earth. It may not be big, but perhaps it is significant.”

“I suppose one need not change the world to have an impact. One only needs to have impact on another being.”

“Yes.”

                                             ————————–

Time lost all meaning.

How long did they sit there?

How long did they speak?

How much did she tell him about her Gift?

How much did he tell her about his Burdens?

Did she truly manage to keep the names of her family a secret?

Did he truly manage to keep the names of his parents veiled?

By the time they ran out of words to say, their postures had shifted without their knowing.

Annúneth had her head resting on his shoulder, while Legolas had one of her hand gently gripped in between both of his own. His own head was leaning on top of her own. They found themselves drawing comfort from the other’s presence. 

The last time Legolas remembered taking comfort from another had been when his Mother had been alive. It felt strange to rely on someone for something as simple as comfort, and yet, he doubted he would feel at peace with anyone else as he did with Annúneth. Legolas had no idea what it was about her that had him feeling this way. But what he was aware of, was that since that night, when Annúneth had called him a Vagabond and had nearly knocked him out with a frying pan, his life had changed completely.

As the youngest in the family, Annúneth had never had any want for comfort. So then, why was it that with Legolas so near her, with his warmth, his voice and his presence surrounding her, had the elleth feeling as if she had never truly experienced comfort before as she did right then. Sure her Father’s embraces, and her sibling’s comforting words were no comparison. But with Legolas? She felt as if her very Fëa was at peace. Where moments ago her mind had been fluttering in the breeze, like a leaf caught in a disturbing wind, now she felt grounded. Almost as if, someone had taken her hand and pulled her back down before she floated too far out of reach.

If she were to touch the stars, she found herself thinking, she wanted to do so with him.

A bright smile on her lips, she stood, pulling Legolas up with her as she did. The Prince looked at her, slightly confused. Slipping her hand out of his, albeit reluctantly, and stepping towards the lowest branch, Annúneth jumped, catching the strong arm of the tree between her soft palms and hoisting herself up. Once she was sitting atop, she looked down at him, that smile still present on her lips.

Understanding her silent inquiry, Legolas gripped another branch and climbed up as well. Satisfied he would follow her, Annúneth began to climb higher.

Where they had been talking for hours only moments before, their ascent was in complete silence. Every now and then, they would pause, the leaves of the tree allowing them to view one another through the foliage. Their eyes would meet, playful smiles on their lips before they would continue.

Sometimes they would grab for the same branch, and their hands would touch. Giving them both pause as they would try to comprehend what that feeling was that shot through their very being and settled into the deepest recesses of their hearts.

Steady and sure, they both emerged at the top. The tree was high enough to surpass the circular walls of the Garden. Looking around, one could see the entirety of the valley Annúneth called home. It was a view she had seen before, and yet it never ceased to take her breath away. As someone who had never experienced the vision before him, Legolas could not help but stare, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“Even after all the years I’ve lived, I am glad that there are still surprises waiting for me to discover them.” He admitted, finally tearing his eyes away from the view to glance at the elleth next to him. Yet she had her gaze trained towards the night sky.

When had the hour grown so late, neither of them knew.

The stars shone where they always had, since before the Awakening of the Elves, while the moon gleamed where she had been hung in the sky so long ago, with the last flower of Teleprion, the silver tree of Valinor, encased within.

“Have you heard of the tale of how the moon got her dark spots?” She asked, her grey eyes appearing silver under the shine of the full moon. “Yes.” Legolas responded, before adding. “Though I would like to hear it once more, if you were willing to refresh my memory with the tale.”

She rolled her eyes at his obvious teasing, but indulged in his request. “It is said that the moon was once unblemished and crystal clear as an orb, shining down upon Middle-Earth in all her glory. Tilion, the Maia who would guide the moon through the night sky was proud to hear praise of the moon’s beauty and reveled in the task he had been giving, which he did so diligently.” Her hand came to rest atop a branch that Legolas was gripping to keep her balance. Unbeknownst to them, their fingers began to inch closer.

Shifting slightly, which had him leaning closer towards Annúneth to keep his balance, Legolas spoke. “That is until he caught sight of Arien, the Maia who guided the sun across the sky, and fell in love with her.” Smiling softly, Annúneth nodded. “He was so taken by her beauty, they say, the way her golden hair seemed to shine just as bright as the sun. Her kind smile that held the very warmth of the sun. And the joy in her eyes, that seemed to never dim of the laughter that he would hear the moment she would take to the sky.”

Legolas’s gaze found the several dark spots that marred the once clear surface of the silvery orb. “His love for her had him wandering too close to the sun, and the moon was burned.” The Prince whispered, not realizing how the tips of his fingers were now intertwined with Annúneth’s.

The elleth nodded. “So now, he has to keep his distance and love and admire her from afar, though some stories say that he would love nothing more then to be in her presence, just once, even if it would burn him. Which is why, even now, sometimes the Sun and Moon appear in the sky at the same time. Because Tilion wishes nothing more then to catch a glimpse of Arien. Although,” Here her voice took on a slightly dismal tone, as if her very heart was burdened by what happened next. “He learned that he had to keep his distance after an error on his part.”

Her story had him frowning slightly. “Was there a reason behind the story My Lady?” He asked, to which she sighed and turned her gaze to look at him. “Or are you simply referring to the fact that I might burn, should I get too close to you?”

Her gaze snapped towards him, more then a little surprised at how quickly he had picked up on what she’d been trying to say. The wind blew softly, the leaves rustling around them breaking the temporary silence as they continued to look upon one another.

Blue on grey.

Grey on blue.

“A little too late for that.” He finally said, his voice barely above a whisper as his gaze turned tender and soft. Grasping her fingers completely, he raised the hand he’d been touching to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss atop her knuckles. “For I believe I was burned the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Silence followed his confession, and Legolas’s heart sang with joy for having spoken what it had been carrying within it for so long.

“Annúneth.” She said, prompting him to tilt his head at her curiously. “I have burned you.” The elleth explained. “The least I can do is ask you to call me by my name.” Laughing softly to himself, the elf nodded. “Only if you were to call me by mine.” He offered, to which she hummed. “Truth be told, I prefer Vagabond, over Legolas.”

The Prince smiled, turning his body so that he would face her fully. “I do not mind in the slightest.” A mischievous glint lit in his blue eyes, putting Annúneth a little on edge because she knew he loved to tease. “Although I am a little curious as to why you would assume that you are the sun and I, the moon?”

The golden haired elleth lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Well mostly because everyone say that I have a sunny disposition.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. “While your disposition has been whispered to be as mysterious as the moon.” Nodding in slight approval, with a look of satisfaction on his face, Legolas hummed under his breath. “And acceptable explanation.” He mused, before continuing. “Though I assume it had nothing to do with the fact that you have golden hair and mine is lighter?”

Pursing her lips to keep from giggling at his obvious vexation that the explanation was, in reality, much more simpler then what she had already offered, Annúneth spoke. “That would be a little too obvious. I was simply trying to help your image by comparing you to the moon. Was it not to your satisfaction?” She asked, unknowingly gravitating towards him, her body leaning closer with each whisper of word.

Letting out a sigh that sounded so wounded, Legolas nodded. “Well I suppose I shall accept it.” He said, barely able to get the words out given the smile on his lips. “Albeit reluctantly.” He added in jest. The hand that did not rest atop her own on the branch had lifted up to cup the side of her face, his thumb brushing across her rosy cheek in a gentle caress. Her heart leaped in her chest at the loving touch, while his heart stalled when she consciously tilted her head against his touch.

“The smile on your lips says otherwise.” Annúneth challenged, still leaning closer, barely aware that Legolas was mirroring her movement, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller.

“What smile?” The words were barely out of his mouth when her lips found his, and everything else, even their conversation, became inconsequential.

For truly nothing was of more consequence, then having Annúneth press her lips against his, shy and timid, and yet, sure, certain and unwavering at the same time. Legolas, on his part, returned the sweet gesture with a firm press of his own lips. He was a warrior, and the word gentle had never been one to be associated with him, and yet, in that moment, he was the very epitome of gentleness and tenderness.

The kiss lasted for only a few moments, a simple brush of lips, tentative and cautious.

Just as any new love would be.

And yet they both knew that for them, nothing would ever be the same.

                                             ————————–

There was quite the surprise waiting for them once they descended the tree. Annúneth jumped down from the last branch, right into Legolas’s waiting arms. A joyful laugh echoed in the otherwise silent Garden, which had one of the newcomers smiling to themselves as he watched the two elves simply revel in one another’s presence.

His friend who stood next to him, had finally run out of patience.

“I do not believe it is courteous of a guest to disappear for an entire day without warning.” Thranduil spoke, the amusement in his tone betraying him as to how he truly felt about the situation.

Both Legolas and Annúneth stopped dead in their tracks. Their surprise had more to do with the knowledge that they had been together for an entire day and had not noticed the time passing. “Forgive us, My Lords.” Legolas said, his tone apologetic as he bowed. “Annúneth and I lost track of time as we spoke.” He admitted, though the use of her name had Annúneth smiling softly at him.

A development which did not go unnoticed by the two older Elves.

She turned to her father and smiled apologetically. “I am sorry if I worried you Ada.” No sooner had the words left her mouth when Legolas turned to look at her, utter surprise on his face as he repeated the last word she had spoken. “Ada?” He turned so he could look at her fully. “Lord Elrond is your father?” He asked, which had Annúneth frowning in confusion. “Did you not know?” She asked, to which he quickly shook his head.

Thranduil sighed, knowing exactly how the rest of the conversation would play out. “It is rather unbecoming of a Prince to not know a Lady’s father Legolas. I thought I had taught you better.”

The word Prince seemed to have the effect on Annúneth the same way the Ada had had on Legolas. “Prince?” Her voice echoed against the Garden wall. Having recovered, only barely, from the new information he had been exposed to, Legolas couldn’t help but repeat the words she had spoken to him.

“Did you not know?” He asked, to which Annúneth hit him on the shoulder, though there was no malice behind her act. “Of course not! I would never have called you a Vagabond if I had known.” She paused. “Then again, perhaps I still would have. No I am sure I would have.” A nod of affirmation had her reaffirming her statement.

Elrond chuckled, delighted to see his daughter seemed to take the news in a stride. And yet he was not unaware of the change he could see in his daughter. There seemed to be a glow about her, one that he was sure, she herself was unaware of, for she shared it with Legolas. “It would be best if we were to continue this discussion in my study. Perhaps over some breakfast?” He suggested, already steering Thranduil through the door.

Wordlessly glancing at one another, the two elves, feeling as if they were young elflings once again, about to be chastised, followed after their respective fathers.

                                             ————————–

“I hear you are to leave tomorrow.”

The sound of her voice had him lifting his head from where he had been putting the last of his essentials in his bag. Annúneth stood there in his doorway, dressed in a blue gown. A blue that seemed rather familiar, yet he could not place it. He nodded, the very gesture reluctant as he picked up the belt that held held hid dagger. “As soon as the sun rises, we will be off.” He said, his voice sounding hard even to his own ears.

He felt her walk towards him, his eyes still glued to his best which he was fiddling with more out of the purpose of doing something. “I had hoped that you would stay a little longer, but it is not to be.”

She was standing in front of him now, and her presence was what urged him to lift his head and gaze upon her lovely face.

A sad smiled played across her lips as she held out a bag he didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Just something I thought would help you on your journey.” Opening the bag, he took note of the several items of food nestled within, carefully packed for his use for as long as they would last on the journey back home. He smiled. “Thank you for your kindness, Annúneth.” He said, setting the bag aside. “I shall surely miss it when I return home.”

Annúneth smiled. “Well I should hope so. I would be greatly offended if you did not for then I would have wasted my hours while entertaining you Prince Legolas.” She teased, though he could see that her heart wasn’t truly in it. But he indulged her nonetheless with a smirk on his lips.

“Oh? Was it out of kindness that you would spend your time with me, My Lady?” He returned, raising an eyebrow at her even as she lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Perhaps I simply took pity on you for your lack of friends. You did seem rather lonely when you stole into the kitchen Vagabond.” The Vagabond chuckled at her words as the both of them lapsed into silence.

Inhaling deeply, Annúneth cast her eyes towards the bed where his bags were ready to be saddled for the morning. “You really are leaving.” She muttered, as if the words were only just beginning to make sense to her. Legolas nodded, reaching out to guide her face back to him with a tender stroke of her cheek. “Yes, but I do not wish our last night to be full of sorrow. If you are willing, shall we return to the Garden for one last night of escape before I am to depart?” He asked, offering his arm to her.

Smiling, Annúneth wrapped her hands around his elbow.

“It shall be your honor to escort me Legolas.”

“You had best get off the high horse Annúneth. It wouldn’t do lest you fall.”

“I do not fear the fall, for I know you will be there to catch me. Will you not?”

“Always.”

                                             ————————–

They were to leave.

They were to return to Greenwood that day.

And Annúneth could not bring herself to smile and wish them farewell on their journey.

Why?

Because she did not want to be parted from her Prince, just as he had no desire to part from his Lady.

But they had to.

He had to return to his Kingdom, and she had to stay with her family in Rivendell where she belonged.

She watched from the window as the line of riders departed, with Thranduil in the lead. Legolas should be beside him and yet, she could not see him there. That is until she spied him at the very end of the procession, his mount halted as the Prince looked up towards the window where she perched.

Even from afar, Annúneth could see the devastation in his blue eyes for they mirrored her own. Her hand lifted from the stone railing, to rest atop the gift he had given her.

Finally, Legolas’s horse turned and galloped after the disappearing procession. As she watched him disappear from her sight, Annúneth whispered a soft prayer to the Valar.

That no matter how long they would be apart, they would meet again.

                                             ————————–

Unknown to her, secured with a pretty ribbon was a letter hanging from the branch of the tree they had sat underneath just the night before.

The words within, read thus.

My dear Annúneth,

It is truly with a heavy heart that I say my final words of farewell to you through this letter. I could not say these words in your presence for I was sure, that if I were to speak to you on the day of our departure, then I would not want to leave.

I am sorry to have not made my true feelings to you known, but I promise you, when next we meet, I will not hesitate to show you the true extent of my affections for you. Though that will not stop me from telling you just how much your presence in my life, for the past few months has changed me.

Annúneth, my beloved, even when I tried to stay away, my gaze would remained fixed upon you for I was mesmerized by your beauty and your kind and gentle heart. My heart was full of joy for the simply pleasure of being by your side. Perhaps that is why I did not tell you of my true feelings.

Not a day will go by when I will not think of you. I will dream of the day we would sit by the lake as we had planned, lost in one another, and let the rest of the world disappear around us.

Your name shall be a prayer upon my lips, and each night I will ask the Valar to grant me my wish, and have you by my side soon. That is the only prayer I shall live by until the next time I am your presence.

And like the moon and the sun in the sky, we shall remain by each other's side.

I was, am, and forever will be,

Yours,

Legolas

                                             ————————–

Unknown to him, hidden between the loaves of bread in the bag she had given him, was a letter that she had written for him.

The words within, read thus.

My beloved Legolas,

How can I put into words what my heart has been bursting to say. To shout from the very treetops of my true feelings for you and how they have been imprinted within me for all eternity. You have not yet departed as I write this letter, and already my heart aches for it is aware of the impending absence.

I have lived a sheltered life, unaware of the world beyond my home, yet you have opened my eyes to a world that lies beyond home, and I pray that I will be able to explore all of it with you by my side. For there is no one else I would have as my guide in this world then you Legolas.

I hope you will not think of me too bold when I say, that it matters not what I may see in my visions, for your soul, your Fëa, is my shelter. I have no desire to be away from you for longer then necessary. When next we meet, I hope you will make me yours, as I hope to make you mine forevermore.

Not a day will go by when I shall not think of you, for my reason in this world is now you. Legolas you are within me, my heart, my mind, and my Fëa until the end of days. Should the world end, I shall be content if I were in your embrace.

I trust you to keep my heart safe my Vagabond. For my heart cannot find peace without you. May the Valar keep you safe on your travels. Be safe My Prince.

I hope like the moon and sun in the sky, we shall soon be by each other's side.

I was, am, and forever will be,

Yours,

Annúneth

[alwaysonthemend]

A/N: Happy belated new years, everyone! I hope each of you had a wonderful holiday season. Apologies for this being a day later than intended – I hope you all enjoy it.

Thank you for sticking with me even though I've been MIA lately <3

(and if you saw me accidently post this last night... no you didn't)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / minors dni / typos, probably / cussing / unrequited love (but not really) / p in v sex / unprotected sex / fluffy smut / jake being amazing

Word Count: 7k

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There was really no one to blame but yourself. 

No matter how many times you had tried to logic your way out of this being your fault… well. You always came back to the same conclusion. This was entirely, irrevocably, and utterly your own fault. 

Holidays have never been the easiest for you – seasonal depression coupled with a healthy dose of loneliness has never been a mixture that makes the Christmas season particularly enjoyable for you. Not that you weren’t learning to be okay with being single; not at all. In fact, you would much rather be alone than settle for someone who doesn’t treat you right. But something about the holidays just seems to make all that hurt and loneliness more powerful than usual. 

Christmas day had been alright – you had spent the day with a few loved ones and exchanged gifts and shared a meal. Looking forward to seeing the people closest to you had been what got you through the dreary, cold days leading up to Christmas. But now that the day has come and gone, now that you’re stuck in the weird in-between of Christmas and New Years, you find yourself particularly lonely. 

So, when you had received an invite to a company New Years party, you had been less than thrilled at the thought of spending another New Year with nosy coworkers who cared more about getting to know someone for gossip than actual friendship. You were even less thrilled at the prospect of yet another New Year of being single. In fact, you’d been quite content with skipping the event entirely, but you’d made the mistake of mentioning the affair to your best friend Jake, who had been helping you with some home renovations the week before. He had promptly scolded you for being a spoilsport, insisting on an alternative way to spend your New Years Eve. 

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“I don’t want to go alone.” 

Jake grins and rolls his eyes playfully at you. “So dramatic. Just come with me to my family’s get together, then.”

“Oh Lord no.” You exclaim. “That’s even worse! I don’t know most of them, other than Josh. I can’t just invite myself to a family function.”

“You’re not.” Jake quips, plopping down beside you on your sofa. “I’m inviting you to my family function.”

“Absolutely not.” 

Jake looks at you unimpressed, narrowing his eyes the way he does when he’s thinking. “There’s only one alternative, then.” Jake continues to stare, waiting for you to ask what he means. When you don’t give him the bait he’s looking for, he continues on anyway. “I come to your office party with you, then.”

“How is that the only alternative? I do my thing, you do your family thing. That’s the alternative.” You can feel yourself growing frustrated the longer this argument goes on – Jake may mean well, but he’s like a dog with a bone sometimes and just doesn’t seem to know when to quit… and right now seems to be one of those times. You don’t want to go to someone’s else’s family function; you don’t want to go to a stupid office party – let alone by yourself; you would much rather just be alone at home. 

“I can’t let you spend New Year's Eve at a shitty office party or alone here. That would make me the worst best friend ever.” Jake leans backwards onto the sofa, dramatically tossing his head back to rest on the back of the couch. “Besides, it’s in the contract.”

“Jake, nothing is in that damn contract. You made it up.” The Best Friends Contract was something that he had announced was in existence a few years ago in order to explain away his reasoning for always paying for your food when the two of you hang out. “The Best Friend Contract states that a good best friend must never turn down being paid for when the other is more than happy to cover.” You’d called bullshit on the first utterance but it has unfortunately stuck as his go to excuse for anything he did that you tried to argue with him about. 

“Don’t you disrespect the contract like that.” He reaches up and pinches a bit of your hair at the ends with his fingers and tugs a little. “It clearly states in the contract that a best friend never lets the other spend New Years Eve alone.” He tugs again just to be a little shit and then grins widely at you. “I don’t make the rules, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you literally do.” You swat his hand away from your hair, fighting back a smile of your own. “And besides, even if you did show up at my office party, it would end up being awkward.”

“Elaborate.” He demands, reaching up to mess with your hair again and then pouting when you smack his hand away for the second time.

“You know how nosy my coworkers are. They’ll all be asking all night if we’re dating and I’ll have to explain: no, he’s not my boyfriend; no, he’s just my best friend; and yes, he’s a guy and yes, he’s still my best friend.” You huff dramatically – you’ve dealt with it all before with him at parties or events where people can’t seem to understand that a man and a woman can be best friends without it meaning more. “It’ll be awkward and annoying for everyone involved, Jake.”

“So we pretend.” He replies simply, shrugging as if it’s an obvious conclusion. “Just say we’re together and no one will be the wiser.”

“Jake… how on Earth do you think that will be less awkward?”

He just shrugs in answer, still grinning like an idiot at you. “It’ll be fun. Like a game.” He leans in closer, his grin turning a little wicked. “Unless you're scared.” 

“Of what?” You demand, trying to ignore the way your stomach feels like it’s doing back flips when he looks at you like that. 

“Dunno.” He leans back, looking completely innocent again. “You tell me.”

You sigh, knowing that he’s already won. “Fine.” 

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The thing is, you don’t know his siblings or the rest of his extended family very well, but you know how much Jake loves them. So why on Earth would he rather come with you as a fake boyfriend to a shitty office party instead of spending time with them? You’d asked him as much… demanded, even, why on Earth he wanted to skip spending the night with his family. He just smiled at you like he’d been doing for the entire stupid argument and said it was in the contract – a best friend never lets the other spend New Years Eve alone, even if it means pretending to be a significant other.  

So here you are, waiting anxiously for him to come pick you up. You had chosen a long dress for the occasion – just a little too tight in certain areas that you normally don’t like to draw attention to, but it was a little too late now to find something else. You’d styled your hair the way you normally do, though you had added a little more makeup than usual and a glossy lip to top off the look. You’ve been ready for the better part of an hour now since you always tend to start getting ready early when you’re nervous. 

I have no reason to be nervous, you keep telling yourself, it’s just Jake. But that last part is exactly why you’re nervous. You still have no idea why he’s so willing to do this for you – why he’s content with being a fake date at an office party where he doesn’t know anyone instead of spending a fun night partying with his family. Not to mention, the thought alone of Jake in a nice suit makes butterflies erupt in your tummy.

What if he’s only doing this out of pity? What if he’s miserable the whole time? What if it’s awkward pretending to be together and he regrets ever agreeing to this? What if-

The questions swirl through your mind at such a constant rate that you’re quite sure you may vomit from the nerves before he ever even arrives. You’re moments from texting him and calling off the whole thing but then comes the knock at the door – and you know that he’s the only person it could be. 

Steeling yourself and resolving to act like a big girl, you rise up from your seat on the sofa and open the front door. 

“Wow.” The word slips from your lips without your brain being able to fully process, yet you can’t think of anything else to say. Jake has always been attractive – going from being a cute young man when you first met to the handsome one standing before you right now. The all black outfit suits him; black always does. His hair is freshly washed, the ends delicately curling against his shoulders. His usual necklaces adorn his neck, with a few extra bracelets and rings added to the ones he usually wears. 

Chocolate eyes crinkle slightly as he smiles, his head tilting just barely to the left as he regards you. “I hope that was a good “wow” and not a bad one.” He glances down, a tiny hint of shyness to the action. 

“No. It-” you clear your throat, “it was a good “wow.” You look very handsome.” You’re quick to recover, mentally shaking yourself. 

“And you look wonderful.” His eyes give you a once over, making you feel both emboldened by your choice of dress and slightly embarrassed. “I’m a very lucky man to have you as my fake girlfriend.”

The joke breaks the slight awkwardness of the moment and you laugh softly. He’s always been good at that. 

“And I’m a lucky fake girlfriend.” You grab your bag from the hook on the wall and step out into the chilly night with him. He hovers beside you as you lock your door, and then the two of you walk side by side to the warmth of his waiting car. 

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Your pulse is racing as you and Jake enter your office building. It only gets faster still as the two of you get onto the elevator. 

“Nervous?” Jake asks as you press the button for the correct floor. The doors closing feels like a curtain call of doom.

“A little.” You shrug, but Jake’s concern for you is written all over his face. “Some of my coworkers can just be a lot.” You explain, hoping that will be enough explanation for him and he won’t go digging further into your other fears for tonight. 

“I’ll just use my natural boyish charm.” Jake grins and loops his arm with yours as the elevator dings. 

“Boyish? You’re almost 30.”

Jake gasps dramatically and then tugs you off the elevator and towards the party that’s already been started for a good 30 minutes. One of the TVs on the wall has been turned to a countdown for midnight. You recognize many of the guests, though there are several that you don’t – likely other people’s plus ones that you’re sure they’ve been dying to show off. Though there’s one woman that stands out… the one woman that you absolutely didn’t want to see tonight. 

“Who are you death staring at?” Jake murmurs into your ear, startling you a little. When did he move that close? 

“Her name’s Jess. And she’s a stuck up bitch.”

“Woah.” Jake's eyes widen at your harsh words and looks back towards her, his eyes giving her a once over. “She’s definitely, um..” Her dress is skin tight and short, barely covering anything. Big hair and high stilettos makes it so that she sticks out like a sore thumb. “She’s definitely got a style.” 

You giggle a little at his attempt to be nice – in all the time you’ve known him, you can’t think of a single time when he’s ever insulted a woman’s appearance or choice of dress, even when it’s totally warranted. 

“Aaand she’s walking over here.” Jake supplies, making you scowl at him. 

“Yeah, I fuckin’ noticed.” You say lowly, clenching your teeth in what you hope is a convincing smile. “Jess! Hey.”

She smiles widely at you, flashing her overly white teeth. “Y/n! I didn’t think you would show tonight.” Her perfume is so strong you’re pretty sure you’re already getting a headache by the time she makes it to you. You begin to explain that Jake wanted to come but she’s quick to interrupt you as soon as her eyes land on him. 

“Well it’s certainly lovely to meet you.” She purrs, stepping closer to him and practically turning her back to you. “I’m Jess.” She extends her hand, which Jake shakes just barely before dropping it again. 

“Jake. It’s nice to meet you as well.” His smile is tight, mostly forced, but she either doesn’t care or is too stupid to notice. 

“Now tell me how you managed to snag this handsome young man, Y/n?”

Already your heart rate is starting to pick up, anger and hurt at her apparent disbelief that you’re dating him making you want to reach up and rip her obnoxious strip lashes off her eyes. Even though it’s the truth, your brain not-so-kindly reminds you. 

“Well, I-”

“We’ve been friends for years.” Jake interrupts you, taking a side step closer to hook his arm with yours once again. “Naturally, I fell in love with her the very first time I met her.” Those chocolate eyes find yours, a comforting warmth in them that instantly makes you feel better. “But I only recently managed to work up the nerve to ask her out.” 

His tone is sickeningly love-struck, so believable that you have to stop yourself from openly staring at him in shock as he speaks. You find yourself nodding along, more than happy to play along that you’re both in love with each other. 

“Of course, I had feelings for him the whole time, too.” You squeeze his arm a little. “Just never thought he felt the same. Turns out we were both oblivious.”

“But here we are.” Jake turns to look at you again as he speaks, those warm eyes making you feel all melty and gooey inside. 

“Here we are.”

Jess, for her part, manages to seem utterly crestfallen as the two of you speak, as if she had known Jake for years and been in love with him, too. Eventually, she turns her nose up in the way she does when she feels offended and plasters a saccharine smile onto her painted lips. “Well how sweet is that?” She asks, though gives no time for either of you to speak further. “Well, there’s still plenty of people for me to see tonight so you two enjoy yourselves.”

She’s gone before either of you can reply, disappearing and leaving nothing but the smell of her sweet perfume. 

“See?” Jake asks, tugging you towards the refreshments. “Not so bad.”

“Sure.” You scowl but gratefully take the cup of punch that he offers you. 

– 

A few other coworkers come to say hello, with the two of you giving the same performance each time you get asked how the two of you met. It gets easier, and each time it happens you can almost picture the story that the two of you weave – Jake shyly admitting he’s been in love with you, you declaring you love him back, you kiss, happily ever after, blah blah blah. It’s too easy to imagine and you find yourself wishing that you were anywhere but here with anyone but him. 

Jake glances towards you, probably noticing that you’re standing there as stiff as a board, trying to look romantic and in-love while sipping punch like it’s a secret weapon against the sheer discomfort you’re feeling. 

“Hey,” he nudges your shoulder with his, “at least try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.” 

You turn to look at him, rolling your eyes at the teasing grin that awaits you. “I don’t know how you’re doing this. This is a nightmare.”

“It’s not so bad. It’s funny watching people try to act like they’re nicer than they are.” Your heart warms a little – Jake very rarely ever complains, no matter how shitty a situation, so of course tonight is no different. His suit is a little wrinkled now from almost an hour of milling about and mingling, and his tie slightly askew in a way that’s almost charming, but also makes you want to reach up and fix it. You hate that you notice things like that about him. “Besides,” he continues, taking a sip of his own punch, “you have plenty of practice with being around these people. You should be used to it.”

You snort at him. “Yeah, well, there’s a difference between working with people and pretending that we’re, you know, in love around them.”

Jake laughs a little. “I think you were doing just fine. But our little charade has become a bit lackluster.” He grins a little, the mischievous one that he does when he’s up to nothing good. “Maybe we could work on a kiss or something. You know, really sell it.”

Your eyes widen as you choke on your punch. “I– what?”

“Okay, maybe not a kiss.” Jake adds on quickly after your reaction. “But we’re barely convincing anyone right now. You look like you’re getting ready to ask me about the office coffee order, not like you want to whisk me away for a midnight kiss.”

Okay, so maybe he’s a little right on that one. You glance around, trying to think of anything other than kissing Jake, when your eyes land on the makeshift dance floor. 

“Come dance with me.” 

“Um.” Jake answers eloquently, “I don’t dance. You know that.”

“Actually,” you begin, already tugging him forward by the arm, “I’m pretty sure that it’s in the contract that you have to dance with me.” Jake opens his mouth to say something but you speak before he can. “And don’t say it’s not. You make shit up about the contract all the time. It’s my turn.”

Jake groans. “Fine.” He mutters, scowling at you as you tug him through the people who are already dancing with their significant others. It’s only 11 minutes to midnight now according to the countdown so you figure everyone is gearing up for the big New Year’s kiss. “But only for you.”

Your stomach does stupid little somersaults when he says that but you ignore them. The room had been filled with the chatter of voices but as soon as you press closer to Jake they grow silent, as if the world beyond the two of you completely disappears. Jake stands awkwardly, his hands hovering just barely above your waist, unsure of where to land. His gaze maps out every inch of your face except your eyes and a tiny blush dusts his cheeks. 

“Are you blushing?” 

Jake scoffs, his palms finally settling fully onto your hips. “No, I’m not blushing.” He stage whispers at you, though you’re pretty sure no one is paying enough attention to have heard him. “I’m nervous. I don’t dance.”

Although you feel equally as flustered – probably more so than Jake, you feel oddly at ease this close to him. You choose not to examine that feeling too deeply at the moment. “I can tell…” you tease, taking one of his hands off your waist with your own. “We hold hands with this one.”

“Oh.” He mutters softly, his gaze flickering to your shoes. He offers his hand for you to take, looking as if he was offering a fragile gift. 

Hyper-aware of every minute rise and fall of his chest with each breath and every flutter of your own heart, you take his hand. “Right.” You answer, smiling a little at him, noticing every single detail – of his warm fingers, of their roughness, of how perfect his hand feels in yours. 

The music shifts to something a little more lively as the countdown hits 7 minutes now, though you and Jake have yet to actually start dancing.

“So, um…” You begin softly, trying to fill the silence that is quickly becoming awkward. “I guess we just… move around a little?”

Jake’s eyes find yours, comedically widened and you can’t help but laugh at the fact that this is what finally has broken his cool demeanor. 

“Right. Moving. Moving is good.” Jake’s voice is a little higher than normal and it makes you feel better about your own nerves. “We can, uh, move.”

“You lead.” You remind him, starting to move slowly back and forth with him. “Right? You’re the guy.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He answers dryly, making you giggle. 5 minutes to midnight. “I thought you were the one who knew how to do this…”

“I do!” You answer, a bit more enthusiastic than you’d meant. “I mean, I do know how to dance. But I’m not… you know, leading.”

He takes a breath, his hand sliding down a fraction to hover over your lower back. You stiffen for just a second before your body relaxes into the contact. “Okay. Leading. I got this,” Jake mutters, his voice carrying an unexpected determination.

Your movements start out a little awkward and timid, but soon the two of you find rhythm with each other, the nerves melting away bit by bit until it feels as if the rest of the world grows muffled – the two of you in your own little universe. 

“Not so bad, right?” You ask him, glancing up into those chocolate eyes of his and trying not to get lost in them. 

“Nah. Not bad.” He smiles at you, then glances at the countdown on the wall. “Three minutes.” 

You nod, your mind suddenly filling with thoughts of what this would feel like if it was real… what it would feel like to kiss him to bring in the new year. It makes your chest squeeze to think about so you say instead, “Thanks again for coming with me to this. I don’t know why you did it… but thank you.”

“Told you… the contract.” He grins but it softens after a moment. “But really, I’d rather be with you, anyway.” 

His answer gives you pause. He doesn’t mean… right? Surely he doesn’t mean anything other than that he just enjoys your company as friends. You want so desperately to believe that it could be more. “I feel the same.” You reply quietly. “I mean that- that I would much rather be with you, too. Even at a stupid New Year’s party.”

Jake smiles, a tiny huff of laughter escaping him. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your face, smell his cologne. His eyes lock with yours and you can’t do anything but stare back. “Speaking of New Years.” His eyes cut to the countdown and then back to you. 

Everyone around you begins to count down from ten, their voices blending together – becoming muffled as you once again lose yourself in his gaze. 

9…. 

He wouldn’t be here tonight unless he really wanted to be. 

8…

He chose to be here. 

7…

With you. 

6…

His hand tightens its grip on yours.

5…

Your heart is pounding – so loud it’s like a drum pounding in your ears. 

4… 

The damn contract… years of wanting him. 

3…

God damn it, you’re tired of being afraid and he doesn’t move at all when you lean in. 

2…

His eyes flicker to your lips. Fuck it. 

1..!

Your lips hit his cheek as he turns his head at the very last second. Stunned, you pull backwards, whipping your hand from his. He looks just as surprised as you do – perhaps even more so. For a moment, neither of you move. The people around you cheer, their excited movements blurring as everything around you moves in slow motion. 

“Y/n, I-” Jake cuts himself off as you shake your head, taking a step back from him. Then another. The shame and embarrassment hits all at once, stealing your breath. “Y/n, wait-”

“No!” You shake your head again, walking backwards from him even further. “I- I can’t-” The words won’t come. Nothing you say could ever fix this. Letting instinct take over, you do the only thing you can think of – you turn and run. 

People complain and shoot glares as you shove through them, though you pay no mind to anything except getting as far away as possible from him. Distantly, you can hear him call your name again but you don’t look back. The elevator doors open and you practically throw yourself into it, pressing the close button over and over again as you see Jake making his own way through the crowd. In what you can only imagine is an act of pity from the universe, the doors close before he makes it. 

–

You manage to hold the tears in until you reach the dark street outside. Fireworks boom in the distance and you can still hear the excited chatter and whoops from inside. The hot tears burn as they run down your face, no doubt ruining your makeup. You must look a mess, but you don’t care. You glance around at the deserted street. He drove. You don’t have a car. But you can’t spend another second with him. 

“Y/n!” The building doors slam open and out he comes, his eyes wild and frantically scanning around until he sees you. “Y/n, please!”

You take off running down the pavement. Well… you take off running the best you can in the heels that you had spent so much time picking out because you wanted to impress him. Like a fucking idiot, you think bitterly. 

You barely make it 15 feet before his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you backwards and stopping you from going further. He looks so upset, so affected that you almost fall for it. Almost. “What?” You bite out, tugging uselessly at his grip. 

“Y/n… please. Give me just one fucking minute to explain.” His voice sounds just as wrecked as he looks. 

“There’s nothing to explain. It was a stupid mistake. I don’t- I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”

“Just one minute.” He begs and you feel your resolve crumbling. Of course it does. It’s him. 

You nod. “One minute.”

“I—” His voice breaks, cracking under the weight of his own panic. He runs a hand through his hair – the way he does when he’s stressed or upset. “I don’t know how to—god, I’m just—I don’t know how to say this.”

“I’m an idiot. And I—I’m in love with you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling out in a rush, like they’ve been stuck in his throat for years and now that they’re coming out too fast to control. “I know it—god, I don’t know why I never said it before. I don’t know how to… to keep pretending I’m just your friend when every time you laugh, or make a stupid joke, or chew on your lip when you’re thinking… it kills me because you’re my best friend and I’m not supposed to love you. But I can’t stop it. I can’t. I’m just—fuck, I’m in love with you.”

What feels like millions of emotions and thoughts hit you all at once, each one slipping away before you can pull a coherent thought together. “Then why… why did you do that?” Confusion, hurt, doubt – each one digging its fingers into the little tiny seed of hope in your chest and throttling it before it can form. 

“Because I’m an idiot.” He stresses again, his fingers tightening on your wrist. Without even thinking, you step closer to him, as if your own body is betraying you. “Because I’m scared of fucking this up or of losing you and I can’t-” he rubs his palm over his face with his free hand, his expression scrunching up in frustration. “I didn’t know what it meant. I’d made that stupid joke about us kissing and… and when I realized what was happening I panicked.” The chocolate of his eyes is dimmed, glazed over now with unshed tears. “I was afraid that maybe it didn’t mean anything. And I couldn’t- I wouldn’t survive kissing you and it not meaning anything.”

“But it did!” You insist, finally breaking free from his grasp. “It meant everything.” You wrap your arms around yourself, the chilled breeze finally starting to get to you now that you’re standing still.

“I know. I knew it as soon as I saw your face after and I knew that I’d fucked it up. I knew I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life because it would have meant everything to me, too.” His hands drop defeatedly at his sides, shoulders hanging low – the perfect picture of a man heartbroken. “Let me make it right.” The words are more of a plea, his eyes so sad that you want to reach out and comfort him. “Tell me I can make it right.”

There’s a part of you that wants to keep hiding it forever, to keep burying it deep in your chest where it can’t hurt you. But the louder part of you is tired of waiting, tired of burying it, tired of being afraid. 

“I forgive you,” you take a step towards him, closing the gap that had felt like it stretched out for miles, “and I understand why. And I- I love you, too.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his lips find yours at last, his hands finding your hips and guiding you closer to him. You can feel the heat of his skin, the heavy rise and fall of his chest. You can taste the fruity punch from earlier on his tongue, coupled with the taste of him. And you want more of it – more of everything. You want to touch every inch of his skin in the way you’ve always wanted but never been allowed. 

He pulls away after what could have been minutes, hours… you can’t tell. All you can focus on is the feeling of him. “I will spend a lifetime making up for what I did to you tonight.” He murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. “I will spend a lifetime making sure that I never see that look on your face ever again – by my own actions or someone else’s.”

“A lifetime?” You ask, loving the feeling of the word on your tongue. A lifetime. A lifetime of him, said so simply – as if he cannot fathom any other ending after this. 

“Two lifetimes,” he continues, “three, even. As many as it takes.” His grin turns a little wicked. “Starting with tonight?” 

The sudden wave of desire that hits you almost makes you dizzy – you feel yourself nodding, you feel the heat rising from between your thighs and spreading throughout your body like a wildfire. Years of waiting, of wanting. And now you have him. “Take me home, Jake.” 

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉

Your heart is pounding as the two of you tumble through the front door of Jake’s home, both sets of hands exploring each other as his tongue explores your mouth. The ride here is hazy, nothing but a blur as Jake kicks the front door shut behind you. You’ve been to his house plenty of times before so you pay it no mind as Jake starts leading you further into the house and towards the stairs, knowing that his bedroom lies waiting for the two of you upstairs. 

You both stumble at the top of the landing, nearly falling over and making you giggle. Jake grins, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards his room. He kicks that door shut, too – and then he’s on you once more, gently pushing you back to the wall. His body cages you in, the feel him pressed so closely making you feel weak in the knees. 

“Is this okay?” He asks lowly, his fingers delicately tracing your skin at the tops of your thighs, just barely dipping underneath your dress. Compared to the kiss the two of you just shared, it’s an innocent action, but it feels even more overwhelming because it’s him doing it. At your nod, Jake’s hands continue to explore, his rough fingertips moving higher up and hooking in the elastic band of your panties. “And this?” You nod again and he tugs them down your legs and you step out of them. “Tell me what you want.” Chocolate eyes, almost black, lock onto yours. 

“I want you.” You answer him, finding yourself just as breathless as a teenager during her first time. 

“As much as I’ve dreamt of hearing that,” he murmurs, “more specific.”

You feel your cheeks grow hot, the words that want to spill out seeming crude in such a delicate moment. But the unbridled want in his eyes makes you say them anyway. “I want you to fuck me.” 

He growls a little, a deep rumble in his chest, at that. His hands find your waist and he guides you away from the wall, gently pushing you to the bed. The edge of the mattress presses into the backs of your knees and he guides you to sit. 

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” He answers, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of you. Deft fingers wrap around your ankle as he lifts your foot slightly and begins to undo the straps of your heels. “But I won’t be doing that tonight.” He lifts your other foot and you glance down at him in confusion. “There’s a million things I want to do to you,” he continues, both shoes now off and placed neatly by the nightstand. “Kiss you, taste you,” he rises, stepping between your parted thighs, “but I won’t be fucking you. I don’t want to do that to you tonight. Ask me what I want to do to you.” He demands softly. 

“What,” you can’t help but stare at him, your heart beating so fast you fear it may burst from your chest, “do you want to do to me?”

He grins like a kid in a candy store. “I want to make love to you.” He slips his fingers beneath the straps of your dress and slides them down off your shoulders. “Is that okay?” 

Lifting your hips as he helps you out of the dress, you nod. “More than okay.” Summoning every ounce of bravery you have, you reach out and slide his jacket off his shoulders. It falls to the ground alongside your dress. You grab his tie and haul him closer, crashing your lips to his. Frantically, you help him undo the buttons of his shirt, then his slacks, leaving both of you in nothing but his boxers.

“Let me look at you a minute.” He breaks the kiss and pushes you backwards onto the bed. You do your best attempt at scooching backwards in what you hope is a graceful, sexy way, but he pays it no mind. His eyes roam your skin, lingering on your bare breasts, then down to your exposed pussy. You want to cover yourself, to hide yourself away from his piercing gaze but he stops you from moving away with his palms settling on your knees. “Don’t do that,” he whispers, spreading your thighs further, “don’t hide from me. You’re perfect. Stunning.” 

Jake lowers himself between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs and pulling you closer to him. His eyes lift to yours. “Let me taste you? Please?” He begs, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

It’s the “please” that gets you, slick dripping out of you even more. You nod your head. He presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh. Then the other side. Then a little higher. Hips squirming, you mutter his name. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing.” Another kiss, this one closer to where you want him, but still too far. “I’m taking my time. I want to remember every second.” 

Finally, his tongue laps against your aching clit and you cry out, one hand fisting in the sheets and the other reaching down to tangle in his hair. Jake moans against you, his eyes closing in concentration as he circles your clit, toying with you, seeing what movements make you squirm the most. His brows furrow as he dips lower, his tongue pressing just barely into your entrance before swiping back upwards to your clit. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever done before – he’s unlike anyone you’ve ever had before. He’s paying attention, finding what makes you tick and using it to coax the warmth in your lower belly to spread. 

You feel yourself arching upwards, grinding your soaked pussy against his mouth. He groans into your heat, two fingers now prodding at your entrance as his tongue never lets up. His fingers press in deeper, stretching you out as you climb higher and higher to a peak that you know you won’t return from. Cracking your eyes open, you peak down at him again, and you can barely stand the sight that awaits there. His eyes are still closed, his brows drawn together with determination. His mouth attached to your clit and his fingers hidden inside you, curling so deliciously. But what really gets you – the final nail in the coffin that sends you so deep into pleasure you fear you’ll never return, is the way his hips grind desperately into the mattress, as if the very act of bringing you pleasure has rendered him unable to wait for his own. 

“Jake, I’m gonna come.” You warn him, and he only nods his head in answer, his tongue working harder and his fingers faster at your broken warning. Your orgasm is a steady build, starting deep in your belly and working its way outwards, engulfing every nerve-ending with white hot pleasure. Distantly, you hear him moan as your thighs tighten around his face, as your walls clench around his fingers. 

Your body is trembling when he finally pulls away, his fingers then instantly being brought to his mouth. He sits up, his eyes closing again as he licks your release from them before they open again and find your dark gaze. He gives you a lazy grin, his chest and face flushed. “I knew you’d taste sweet.” He tells you, climbing his way upwards towards you to kiss you. You can taste yourself on him and you already want more of him. 

“I need you inside me.” You demand, your hands mapping out every inch of his skin that you can reach before hooking in the waistband of his boxers and tugging them down. 

Every inch of him is just as perfect as you’d imagined it to be. A perfect length and mouth-wateringly thick. His swollen head is flushed and glistening with precum. Slightly bashful, he leans down and kisses you again. 

You reach between your bodies and wrap your fingers around him. He draws back and whines, his body going tense as you work him a little, smearing his precum over his throbbing length. “Fuck, Y/n.” He mutters, placing his forearms on either side of you. After a few pumps, you guide him between your legs, lining him up with your entrance. He starts to press in slowly, his lips wrapping around your left nipple and sucking softly as he sheaths himself inside of you. Both of you cry out softly, your quiet, panting breaths mingling with the other’s. He fills you perfectly, the stretch so delicious you never want to be without him inside you again. “You feel…” He never finishes, instead moving over to suckle at your other breast. 

“Move, baby.” You beg and he instantly obeys you, drawing out from you and then pushing back in, his pace slow but pointed and powerful. Your hands grip his shoulders, sliding down to hold tightly at his biceps as he rocks into you. 

He pulls away from your tit to look down at you, his pupils so wide his eyes look black. The bed frame creaks with each powerful thrust of his hips. “I won’t last with you looking at me like that,” he murmurs, seizing his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” You fight to keep your eyes from fluttering shut – you want to see his face, to see the way it contorts and twists in pleasure. 

“You feel even better.” He brings his thumb up to your lips, dragging it across your bottom lip before pressing into your mouth. You suckle at it, moaning around it. He moans too, then pulls the digit from between your lips and drops his hand to rub your swollen clit in time with his thrusts. “Need you to come first, angel. Wanna feel you squeeze around my cock.” 

You can feel your second orgasm building, your body starting to tremble as he starts to move faster, his cock twitching inside of you as you both near the edge. His lips part, desperate little groans filling the air between you as he fights back his own release. “Please, baby.” He urges, and that’s all it takes. The band inside your belly finally snaps, your vision going white around the edges as your orgasm rocks through you. He thrusts into you frantically, working you through your release before pulling out of you, ropes of hot cum painting your lower belly as he finishes. 

Both of you are left panting, the meaning of what just happened and the weight of what’s been confessed tonight settling over the two of you like a weighted blanket. 

“I love you,” Jake offers, pressing his lips to yours for another kiss, “and I’ll keep kissing you as many times a day as you’ll let me to make up for the one I didn’t give you at midnight.” 

You can’t help but grin up at him, already knowing that no one could ever hold a candle to the man who’s gazing down at you with nothing but reverence in his eyes. “I love you, too.” 

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉

Fin

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[madaqueue]

would you feel the noise?

playlists | "static" x steve lacy

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

themes/content: modern non-curse au. angst, smut. mentions of gojo x geto. language, cheating (but your boyfriend does first lmao), alcohol, weed, substance use (ket but never explicitly stated), dubcon-ish (you're both high), semi-public + unprotected, p in v (missionary). 18+, MDNI

word count: 3.9k

a/n: this got a little angsty at points and is so incredibly self-indulgent anyways happy pride i will never back down from the bi gojo agenda!

It’s all so fucking fake.

But then again, was anything real?

The smoke filling your lungs is real. The burn with each inhale is real. The crackles of the bonfire, its shape transforming with each second, overwhelms the crashing of the waves. Certainly, that is real.

Faintly in the background finds the hum of conversation, the whispers of laughter. It was always so easy for them, worming their way into others’ hearts. Maybe it wasn’t real - maybe they were nothing more than parasites, feeding on each other’s desires to feel wanted, to feel seen.

Tossing the now-spent joint into the fire, you stand, legs slightly wobbly from the mix of weed and shitty beer coursing through your body. Finding your boyfriend seated around the fire, his hand resting on some unfamiliar girl’s thigh, the mix of sand and rocks beneath your feet crunches as you make your way to him. When his eyes catch yours, he takes no action to move from the damning position beyond a sinister smile growing across his lips.

“Hey babe, grab me another beer, would ya?”

Even the retorts that used to fill your mind aren’t there anymore - Why can’t you? Too busy talking to your new favorite slut, whatever girl decided to give you an ounce of attention? Or too busy pretending to promote your shitty music, as if this party is the one that’ll finally make you go big and get you out of this town you claim to hate so much? - as you nod.

Making your way up the grass-covered dune away from the beach, you pass other groups lost in their own constructed worlds. Reaching the car, you pop the trunk and grab two beers from the cooler before returning down the shadowed path to the beach.

Maybe it’s seeing his arm wrapped around her. Maybe it’s the way you wish the flames would engulf them, consuming them until there’s nothing left. Maybe it’s just that you’re too fucking tired of this. But when you find yourself approaching the group around the bonfire, your legs won’t bring you there. Sighing, you turn towards the ocean - maybe you could find peace in the waves instead. When your body senses the presence of someone else seated on a washed-up log, the one you had hoped to reside on until your boyfriend decided it was finally time to leave, it was already too late.

His white hair glows under the moonlight as he turns over his shoulder to face you, his blue eyes unmistakable even in the dimness of night.

“Satoru?”

He looks different, yet distinctly the same. In the years since highschool he had grown, but something about him looks wrong, as though his soul was gone, nothing daring to take its place. Seating yourself next to him, the lingering dampness of the wood cool against your thighs, the changes are more prominent up close: his frown lines are deeper, his eyes less bright. Even his shoulders fall forward under an unidentified weight, one he was unable to carry. The light inside him had finally dimmed.

“Hey,” he weakly smiles, “it’s good to see you. Been a while, huh?”

Shock is dulled by the combination of substances in you, yet your heart picks up speed at hearing his voice again after so many years. At least it still remembers him. “Yeah, it has been.” Your arms instinctively move to offer him a beer, as though you were back in the highschool dorms sneaking in liquor before a party. “What are you doing here?”

Reaching out a hand he accepts the drink, the condensation momentarily tethering him to reality as he shrugs, gaze still focused downwards on the sand at his feet. “Thought it might be nice to see people.” Lifting the bottle he takes a sip, the taste familiar despite the years since he last shared a drink with you. “Why are you here?”

Without turning around, you tilt your head back to gesture at the group gathered behind you around the fire. “Came here with my boyfriend, he said there were supposed to be some producers here or something that might like his music.”

Gojo seems to sink into himself for a moment as he mumbles a soft, “Oh.”

Silence blankets you, yet something in it is comfortable, a lack of pressure to speak just for the sake of hearing yourselves talk. As you both sip your beer, he senses the changes in you, in the way you move your body. There’s a new rigidity, a tightness in your muscles as though every move took a concerted effort. You used to be so free, so unencumbered, a stark contrast to the tension that buzzes around you.

As he finishes his drink he places it into the sand before rummaging through the pockets of his jeans. Pulling out a small plastic bag, he gathers his keys, collecting the white substance inside before lifting it to his nose and inhaling. Turning to you, he holds out the baggie. “Want some?”

You don’t know why you say yes, perhaps some combination of fatigue and curiosity, an implicit trust in Satoru that he wouldn’t lead you astray. “Sure,” you nod with a sly grin. Lifting his key to your nose, you take the bump, the substance trickling through your sinuses and burning the back of your throat.

He smiles, seeing a glimmer of the girl he once knew: the nights you’d sneak out from the dorms, handles of vodka hidden under your jackets; hotboxing his first car, a shitty sedan that broke down a few months later, the smoke fogging up the windows; the barefoot runs through backyards, hopping over fences when cops would inevitably show up at the party you attended. “Not even gonna ask what it is?” he teases, his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

You shrug, still smirking as you lean back, your hands resting on the damp wood. “Would’ve said yes no matter what.” Memories - or rather, blurs of them - flash through your mind, the days that turned to weeks you could barely remember, hunting for anything to numb the pain that dug itself into your bones. Every emotion was another ache, your joints creaking under the weight of surviving each day. Weed and alcohol happened to be the most accessible forms of escape, but at this point your body barely felt like your own, your cells simply a form to contain the lingering shreds of your soul.

He hums in response, allowing silence to settle upon you once again. The waves crashing begin to blend together, their sounds muffled in your ears. Has your body always felt so heavy? All you can feel is the cool wood beneath your palms and the warmth of Satoru’s arm next to yours, prickling your skin with his proximity. Your vision seems to pulse with each beat of your heart, each crashing wave of the sea. Are you the ocean? Is it breathing?

“Hey,” Satoru turns to you, moving as if in slow-motion. His eyes are glowing under the light of the moon, his smile making your cheeks feel warm. “Wanna get out of here?”

For a brief moment, you remember why you’re here, the boyfriend you left behind by the bonfire. Slowly, you glance over your shoulder. Your eyes eventually focus in the distance, finding his form illuminated by the crackling flames as he’s making out with the girl you saw him talking to before, his hands grabbing at her hips. That piece of shit. You should be angry, you should go up there and confront him, but instead of rage you just feel free. “Mhm,” you hum, the sound seeming to echo through your vision.

You feel yourself starting to float away, taken under in the current, until Gojo’s fingers intertwine with yours, pulling you back to the surface. Your legs wobble as you stand, his grip on your hand tightening as he leads you away from the party down the beach.

With each step, the sand crunches under your bare feet.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

You can’t help but giggle at the sound - how could your body make that? The miniscule pebbles adjust under your weight, leaving damp footprints in your wake.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

“What’s so funny?” Satoru turns to you, a smile plastered on his face.

“I crunch,” you laugh, momentarily turning your gaze down as your words land in the open air.

And he giggles, the sound bright under the dark sky. Picking up his knees, he slams his feet into the ground, forcing loud stomps to echo as you both laugh. Marching along the beach, you continue your path, holding tightly to one another as your joy bubbles into the air.

Rounding the corner behind an outcropping of trees, you find yourselves in a secluded cove, away from the noise of those gathered at the party on the other side. Gojo plops down on the sand, his body thudding as he lays back. You mirror his motions, unconcerned with the dirt coating your clothes as your back hits the ground.

Staring at the sky, you feel yourself wanting to be a part of it, to meld into the darkness, a cloud tethered to the land with lead. Heavy. Yet, you’re grounded by Satoru’s presence, the cool scent of his cologne, the gentleness of his thumb rubbing over your hand.

Glancing at him, he looks younger, no longer consumed by the years that had passed. His boyish youth has returned once again as his eyes lazily fix themselves upon the stars, as though each pinprick light heals him little by little.

He looks the same as the last time you saw him, the day of your highschool graduation. You promised to keep in touch, but as it often does, life got in the way. He and Suguru promised to call, to come visit, but with moving and work and the recurring responsibilities of adulthood, your friendships dissolved over time. On your part, you similarly assured them you would stay a weekend in their shared apartment downtown, a vow you failed to keep, recalling the pictures they sent you after moving in together. Suddenly, the striking absence of Geto fills your mind.

“Where’s Suguru?” you ask, your voice hitting your own ears before you realize what you’ve said.

Gojo tenses next to you for a moment, a flash of something - regret? - momentarily crossing his features before he settles back into the numbing bliss. Yet, hearing his name is enough, his mind forcing him to relive it, to feel it again.

The fights.

“You just don’t understand me, Satoru.”

“Because you don’t let me understand you - you don’t let me in! It’s impossible, Suguru, I don’t fucking know what you want!”

The pain.

“Then maybe you should stop trying.”

“Suguru, that’s not what I meant-”

“Why try to do something impossible? That’s not fair to either of us.”

The emptiness.

“It’s for the best, Satoru. We can’t love each other in a way that matters.”

“Suguru, please-”

“I’ll never forget you.”

Sighing, his gaze remains fixed on the sky. “We broke up.”

“Oh,” is all you can get out, barely able to process his words but feeling the hurt lingering behind them. “I’m sorry he lost you.”

A weak smile tugs at his lips. “It’s okay. I’m over boys, anyways,” he laughs, slipping back into the substance-induced euphoria he forcefully brought himself, a welcome embrace as he allows his thoughts to once again melt away. “Speaking of which,” he murmurs, the vowels drawing out, “how long have you ‘n’ your boyfriend been together?”

The stars seem to connect, each one a memory of the time you spent with him. “Eight months.” Each point a constellation of your past, yet none of them make you happy. Mostly, it’s just him taunting you, pushing you away, using your emotions against you. The times he’d pressure you into coming with him to a club only to find him making out with some girl in the corner; the concerts he’d bring you to and conveniently forget to introduce you to his friends; the nights he’d promise that this time he’ll be there, he won’t stand you up again, and the silent taxis home alone. “But I don’t love him.”

“Oh?” Satoru whispers, as though lowering his voice would allow him to better understand yours. “Why not break up with him?”

Your shoulders shrug, pushing the sand around them up. “‘s nice to have someone around, I guess.”

“I get that,” he quietly murmurs, gaze still fixed above. You simply hum in response before you feel him shift next to you. “Hey, I have an idea,” he breaks the silence, his smile evident in his words, the letters curling up at the end. “You should be my girlfriend.”

A chuckle in the shape of his name erupts from your throat as you entertain the idea, one that is completely, and utterly, impossible.

“I’m serious!”

Your head lazily flops to the side, your cheek resting against the cool sand as you meet his gaze, a blissed-out grin on his face. Under the moonlight, he looks angelic, his skin perfectly smooth, the curves of his body contrasting against the darkness of the woods behind you. In his soft eyes, you find a peace you didn’t realize you had been searching for, a silent promise behind them.

“Okay,” you giggle.

Before you can process the words, his smile widens, his shoulders relaxing as they release a weight he didn’t know he held. “Really?”

“Mhm,” you nod, the word making your body warm with its vibration, in tune with the frequency of the universe.

For a moment you just lay there, the crashing waves against the shore, a shared adoration flowing between you. Satoru blinks, his eyelids resting closed before he reopens them, his demeanor visibly brightening every time his gaze finds you laying next to him, as though he temporarily forgets your presence only to reexperience the joy of finding you again.

“Do you wanna go swimming?”

As if on cue, your senses momentarily shoot through your body, jean shorts digging into your hips, the warm cloth of your tank top over your shoulders. “Now?” you chuckle.

“Mhm,” he beams. “I bet the water’ll feel amazing.”

Something deep within your soul trusts him, submitting to his desires. “Okay,” you grin before sitting up.

Crawling towards each other, you allow yourselves to close the distance between you on your hands and knees, your motions abiding by a planet-sized magnetic pull. Grazing your hands over his chest, you help him remove his shirt, your palms lingering over his firm chest. Since you last saw him, he had filled out perfectly, no longer the scrawny teenager you once knew. Now, his muscles ripple as he lifts your tank top above your head, simultaneously undoing each other’s shorts, as though separating your touch for even a moment would cause you to lose one another, to lose yourselves in the darkness. Tossing your clothes in the sand, crisp air tingles your skin, covered only by a bra and panties, while Satoru, now adorned only in his boxers, returns his hand to yours. Squeezing your palm, he glances over at you, a silent reassurance behind his eyes.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Ready.”

With that, you’re running into the sea. The water momentarily shocks you as cold pricks at your skin, but Satoru pulls you deeper and deeper until you’re both diving under the waves. Resurfacing, shared laughs echo along the ocean. He shakes out his hair, cool droplets landing on your face as you jokingly shove him away. Easily catching your wrists he pulls you closer, the warmth of his chest hitting yours a welcome contrast to the icy sea. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as his rest along your lower back, holding you against him.

Each wave has you bobbing slightly, grounded only by the brightness of his eyes. They flit across your face, your flushed cheeks, soft lips curled into a grin. “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs.

His body feels solid, well-defined against the fluidity of your surroundings. “You are too,” you giggle.

Gaze never faltering, you both lean closer, and closer, and closer, until his lips meet yours. They’re soft, slightly cool after being outside all night, as you sigh into him. There’s a subtle sweetness lingering as his tongue swipes against yours, a quiet desperation behind his actions. Suddenly, cool air hits your skin as he carries you out of the water, sand hitting your back as he carefully lays you along the beach.

Pressing his weight against you, the kiss becomes messier, teeth bumping as your lips clash. Despite the breeze rustling through the leaves of nearby trees, you feel warm, a comfort in the imprecision. His clothed erection pushes against your core, your hips bucking against him as you moan into each other’s mouths. The friction is addicting, the damp cloth rubbing perfectly against your clit. Your thoughts are fuzzy, your body acting on its own as your palms trail over his back, lower and lower until they’re pawing at his waist.

“Need you,” you mutter into him, “need you s’bad.”

His head falls slightly, finding a place in the crook of your neck as he places wet kisses along your skin, a slight saltiness lingering on it. “Y’sure?” he whispers.

“Please, Satoru,” his name leaving your throat shockingly clear, the only thing cutting through the haze, finally granting you a second of clarity through the substance- and lust-induced fog.

Hearing you call his name, a shiver runs up his spine, as though it was the first sound he ever heard, as though he was reincarnated to live in this moment forever. Pulling down his boxers, his cock springs out as you tug your panties down your legs, meeting their fate in the sand.

Positioning his hips, he aligns himself with your entrance, his hands glued to your hips. Slowly, slowly, slowly thrusting into you, your walls stretch around him, your soul tearing open and releasing the white hot light of ecstasy.

“Oh fuuuuuuck,” he groans as he enters you, his eyes rolling into his skull, jaw slacking open.

Your hands trail up his back to land at his face, cupping his jaw as you softly giggle at his total loss of any remnant of shame, allowing the feeling of your body, your warmth, to completely overtake him, releasing the most primitive, desire-driven version of himself. Pulling him back into you, you rejoin his mouth to yours, tongues mingling in the space between them. Rolling his hips into you, each thrust sends wave after wave of euphoria up your body. Atoms align perfectly, allowing you to slip into one another, the distance between you infinitely approaching zero. You only exist at the points where his skin touches yours, his pelvis smashing into you, his fingers digging into your waist, the warmth of his lips and the gentle flutter of his eyelashes.

You aren’t quite certain if your eyes are open or closed, the darkness clouding your perception indeterminately from the sky or the inside of your eyelids. Either way, the scene is beautiful, each sensation painting a new color across your vision. Satoru’s cock pressing into your gummy insides, purple; his hand trailing up your torso to lazily grope at your tits, green; his hot breath as he whines with each imprecise thrust, blue. The image evolves, ever changing, impossibly beautiful. When his voice hits your ears, it immediately brightens, somehow even more complex, a masterpiece of sensation.

“So perfect,” he murmurs, never daring to separate his lips from yours, “y’were made f’me.”

“Made for you,” you babble back, and you truly do feel it, the way your walls meld around his length, how your bodies perfectly fill in each dip and curve of the other’s, your souls fitting perfectly against one another. “Best thing, feel s’good.”

“So, so good,” he whines, “so warm ‘n’ sweet.”

“Sweet, sweet,” you mumble into him, the taste of booze and something sugary lingering on his tongue. “Soft.”

“Mmm.” He shivers as your hands roam his body, one ascending to his hair and one trailing down his spine, tracing imprecise patterns into his skin. “Love you,” he spills.

The words tumble out before he could stop them, his hips momentarily stilling as he hears them. Before he could retract them, the hand in his hair pulls him further into you, your back arching off the sand as you whisper your response. “Love you s’much.”

Some part of you feels it’s just your body reacting, the bare minimum networks active to recite language. Yet, a deeper part knows it’s true, a quiet love you’ve always held for Satoru. Perhaps now, in the absence of your better judgement, the self-imposed cognitive rules, this piece of you is finally free to enact its control, speaking its truth, allowing it to be heard, felt.

At your affirmation, Satoru lets out a blissful whine, his thrusts picking up their pace yet somehow softening, a new tenderness behind them. You love him. He doesn’t even know what it means, really - after Suguru, his perception of love changed irrevocably. Yet, as he feels the warmth of your skin beneath him, the comfort of your presence, he doesn’t feel a pressure to know, a whisper of meaning lost into the waves of the ocean.

In your shared ecstasy, back and forth mindless babbles continue filling the air, the shape of the words gliding across your vision. It’s beautiful, you think, the way sounds create shapes create meaning; maybe that’s what you’d been looking for: meaning.

No, you had meaning - hell, sometimes you think you had too much meaning. Maybe you needed the absence of meaning, a stillness, a silence. Your life had been too rough, too tumultuous, whitecapping waves covering the oasis of your thoughts. No, you needed unbroken waters, a calm pond to sink into. As your fingers trail over the smooth skin of Satoru’s back, you feel yourself wading into the depths of his soul.

The thrusts of his hips, the rasp of his breath, consume your senses. He melts into you, you melt into him, both of you becoming grains of sand and stars in the sky. In another moment you expand, becoming the sea and the moon, watching over one another, a patient influence over each other. The connection ties you together, without expectation, without pain, simply content sharing your presence.

His arms begin trembling above you as your legs tighten around his waist, holding him against you. A light appears in your chest, the fire of desire burning larger as each prod of his tip fans the flames. Brighter, and brighter, and brighter, until it consumes you. Your vision goes white, your skin flushing hot. Satoru’s moans are far away as his entire body twitches, taught under the strings of pleasure.

You both come undone together, melding into the universe, two comets in space, two suns circling. The collision of your soul ignites, explosive heat surging through your bodies.

As your senses return, you feel nothing but warmth as he rests above you. Your gaze focuses on his, blown pupils glowing down at you. Cheeks pushing up, you both grin impossibly wide as giggles bubble into the stillness around you. Resting his damp forehead against yours, breathy pants fill the air, desperate to fill your lungs with the cool night air. Placing your lips to his, your thoughts finally quiet, your soul finally at ease. In him, you think you’ve finally discovered the missing shard, uncovering the truest form of yourself, the euphoria you had been searching for: peace.