#please help out a nice person who is trying her best

[da-extroverted-introvert]

Are we even friends? (tasm!Peter Parker x reader)

Fandom: The Amazing Spider-Man, Marvel

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 2.66k

Warnings: angst, death mention, grief

So I had a burst of inspiration and wrote this. I haven't seen the Andrew Garfield Spiderman movies in a hot minute so things may not be entirely accurate but please just roll with it. Working on a part 2 already, hope you enjoy. Please leave feedback!

Dividers by @lavendergalactic

Despite the gnawing feeling deep in your gut, you bring yourself to unbuckle your seat belt and walk out of the car.

You sit in the car and take a few deep breaths. You clutch the bouquet of flowers in your hand, trying to will yourself to step foot out of the car. Even after three months, this is hard to do. It’s like the first time all over again. The grief hits you just as hard as the day of the funeral.

You walk through the long, long aisle of headstones and grave markers. A bunch of people long gone who you’ll never know. It breaks your heart to know that to other people visiting loved ones, Gwen Stacy is just another headstone. Another person nobody will know again.

You finally make it up to Gwen’s grave. You kneel down and gently set down the bouquet. You stay kneeling there, just staring at your best friend’s name.

You take a deep breath before you start speaking.

“Hey. It’s me again.”

You pause for a moment, almost as if you’re expecting a response, even though there hasn’t been a single response throughout the many times you’ve been here.

“My grades are doing really good now. Applied for a few scholarships, and I actually think I might get into an Ivy League.”

You smile gently, knowing Gwen would be so proud of you. Whenever you doubted yourself, she would always encourage you. You remember the countless nights of her helping you with homework, telling you how much you’ve improved. She even said she was positive you’d get into the same school, becoming roommates and actually living together. Like sisters.

“Everyone in school misses you. They still talk about how amazing you were. How smart and how nice.”

Just yesterday you were walking down the hall past Gwen’s locker. There’s still plenty of pictures and decorations commemorating her. It gives you hope that Gwen will not be forgotten for a long time.

But you also think about the looks you get when you walk by. The sad, pitiful looks. You hate those looks. You also think some of those odd expressions are looks of confusion, as it was so weird to see you without Gwen Stacy right in front of you. You’ve always been Gwen Stacy’s best friend. People don’t know how to react seeing you without her.

“Uhmm…Peter misses you.”

You always choke up a bit at this part.

“We all do, of course, but especially Peter. I try to visit him every day. He doesn’t really talk to me though.”

Not that he talked to you too much before Gwen died, but you still felt like mentioning it.

“He just kind of sits in his room all the time. He hasn’t been in school much.”

The few times he has shown up in school, he just kind of ignores everyone. He must be getting tired of those pitiful looks in the hallways too.

“I’ve tried looking out for him. Like…like you would’ve wanted.”

God, you hate this. You really hate this.

“He just won’t let me in. I know he’s not going out as Spider-Man anymore, but he’s just not doing anything. He just sits in his room all the time. Not talking to anyone. Not even May.”

If he isn’t even talking to May, why would he talk to you?

You take a deep breath and finally stand up fully, your legs aching from kneeling on the hard ground for too long.

“I’m actually headed to his place now. I know he probably won’t talk to me, but I’ll still try. For you.”

You try to keep the tears back.

“Even if he doesn’t talk to me, May still lets me hang out. You know she makes the best food.”

You stare at her name again, not wanting to say goodbye again. But you know you have to.

“Anyway, that’s all. Thought I’d keep you updated. I’ll visit same time next week.”

You can almost hear her say goodbye to you. But you know it’s in your head. So you finally turn around and go back to your car, preparing for yet another uneventful visit to the Parker residence.

You knock on the door, preparing to put on a happy face in front of May. She’s such a sweet lady, you don’t want her to worry too much about you. She already has to worry about Peter, and you don’t want to put any extra stress on her shoulders.

Sure enough, May answers the front door with her signature sweet smile.

“Hey there, sweetie! Come on in, I just put on a pot of coffee, you must be freezing out here.”

She ushers you in and you revel in the warm atmosphere of the home.

“Thanks, May. I appreciate it.”

She dismisses your statement with a wave.

“Think nothing of it, hun.”

You sit down at the coffee table while May gets the coffee ready. While she does, you look around the home, which you’ve done countless times at this point.

Your favorite thing to look at is the picture on the wall of Peter. He must’ve been young, maybe sixth grade. In the picture, he’s at a science fair, holding up a nice red ribbon with “1st Place” written on it. May and Ben are standing proudly behind him as he smiles brightly at the camera. It makes you smile, seeing him so happy. But you also get sad, wishing he had some of that childlike joy back in his life.

May brings comes back in the room with two cups of coffee in her hand.

“Here you go, should warm you right up.”

You accept the cup with a smile, embracing the warm feeling on your hands. The warmth spreads when you take a sip. The coffee is nothing special, just as generic as any cup of coffee, but knowing that May made it for you and how happy she was to see you makes it taste better.

“Peter’s in his room if you want to say hi.”

She didn’t need to tell you where he was. You knew.

“Okay, I’ll go see him.”

You take a final sip of coffee and walk to Peter’s room.

You contemplate knocking on his door. You know if you knock that he probably won’t answer you, but if you just walk in, he still won’t talk to you. So, knowing the answer will be the same either way, you just walk in.

It looks like Peter hasn’t moved an inch since your last visit. He’s just laying on his bed, covered in blankets, head turned away from you. You know he’s awake though, you can tell by the way his body slightly tensed at the door opening.

“Hey, Pete.”

You speak gently, almost like you were afraid to scare him off. You close the door as softly as you can behind you.

“Missed you at school. I had the teachers give me your assignments so I can give them to you.”

No response. As usual.

You don’t know how to speak to him. You never really did. Neither of you really spoke to each other before he started dating Gwen, and when they did start dating, there was only small interactions between you. But still, you liked those small interactions. They were nice. Made you feel like you were sort of friends. But now that Gwen is gone, you don’t know where you stand.

Even so, you still try. You know that’s what Gwen would want. She wouldn’t want the love of her life wasting away like this.

“Have you eaten at all today?”

No answer.

“I know you’re, like, superhuman and all, but even so, you need to have some food in your body.”

You lick your lips and sigh, getting a little bit frustrated. It’s the same thing every day. You talk, he lays there, then you go home. You don’t feel like your presence is helping him that much, but if you don’t make an effort, you know you’ll feel guilty.

“How about some pizza? I can order one and it’ll be delivered in no time.”

As expected, no response. God, this boy is so infuriating sometimes.

“I know you hear me. Your spidey-senses kind of force you to.”

It’s still weird that Peter’s Spider-Man. You only found out about his secret by accident. You just walked into Gwen’s room, without knocking of course, as best friends do, and there you saw a surprised Gwen and Peter in his suit, mask in hand. That was a few weeks before the accident.

“Come on, Peter. You need to eat something. We can’t have you wasting away in here.”

“Why do you care?”

Even though his voice is raspy and not at all loud, you still flinch. That’s the most you’ve gotten out of him in three months.

“I, uh, what do you mean? Of course I care.”

“Why?”

His voice is a little louder this time.

“Because, we’re friends, Peter. I care about you.”

He sits up in his bed and faces you. You can finally get a good look at him. His once bright eyes, full of joy and mischief are dull and bloodshot.

“Since when? I mean, we barely talk.”

You don’t really know what to say, because it is true, you never talked with Peter as much as you would’ve liked to, but you still kind of thought those small interactions amounted to a friendship.

Just as you try to speak again, he talks some more.

“We both know the only reason we ever hung out was because of Gwen. And she’s not here now. So, please, just…”

He moves his arms around, trying to get his frustration across.

“Leave me alone.”

When he says this, he looks dead into your eyes, which are slowly but surely filling up with tears. You try not to let them fall.

You’ve been wishing for Peter to say something to you for months now, and now that it’s happened, you just want to curl into a ball on the ground.

Not wanting to be in the room with him any longer, you turn around and face the door. You put your hand on the doorknob but before you twist it, you turn your head towards Peter.

“I know you never really thought of me as a friend, Peter. A part of me always knew you just putting up with me for Gwen’s sake. But I always respected you, Pete. You were kind, funny, cool. Never mean.”

A couple of tears drops fall despite yourself.

“I remember when there was that Homecoming dance. You and Gwen were going together but I didn’t have a date. I was fine staying home, but you felt bad and invited me to come with you guys. You didn’t have to, nobody was forcing you, you just offered. Gwen didn’t even have to ask you to, you just did it.”

You wipe your cheek for a moment, still trying to keep eye contact with the boy in front of you.

“It was small things like that that made me like you. You’re such a good person Peter. I mean, you’re fucking Spider-Man, of course you’re a good person.”

You take one final big breath.

“So, you may not consider me a friend, Peter Parker, but you are mine. You are my friend. And I don’t have many of those, so, I’ve got to look after you.”

You finally twist the doorknob and open the door.

“It’s what Gwen would’ve wanted.”

With that final sentiment, you walk out of his room and speed past May, who is clearly worried about the tears on your face, eager to leave this house and go home to cry.

You spend the rest of your night watching movies in your room. You’re laying on your bed in your pajamas, bowl of popcorn in your lap. You glance at the opposite side of the bed. The side Gwen would sit as she laughed at the movies with you.

You try to focus on the movie, trying not to think about Gwen so much, and also trying not to think about your fight with Peter.

Was it even a fight? Neither of you yelled, but he did make you cry. He said some hurtful things. Things that were partially true. But you still didn’t want to see him. Seeing him hurt you a lot. All you can think about was the way he looked at you, with annoyance, frustration, anger. You felt bad for him, you know he’s grieving too, but he just made your blood boil and your eyes well up with tears.

Despite this, you know you’ll still visit him tomorrow. Because Gwen would want you to. Because that’s what friends do.

You hear a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in!”

Instead of your mom or dad like you expected, none other than Peter Parker walks through your door.

He’s actually dressed in New clothes, as opposed to the weeks old clothes you saw him wear earlier. His eyes look like they’re filled with guilt.

“Hey.”

You’re not used to seeing Peter Parker in your room. He only showed up a few times when he crashed yours and Gwen’s movie nights.

“Hey.”

Peter looks at the ground nervously, hand reaching to scratch the back of his head.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I have been an absolute jerk to you and you don’t deserve that.”

You nod slowly, processing his words.

“You’re grieving. I get it. It’s okay.”

He quickly shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s not okay. I know I’m grieving, but you are too. I’ve just been shutting you out when all you want to do is help. It’s not right.”

You have no words. You certainly weren’t expecting this, but maybe you should have. It is Peter, after all. He’s a superhero. Always trying to make things right.

“You have always been nice to me, and you never gave up on me, even when I completely shutting you out. I haven’t been a good friend to you, and I want that to change.”

Hearing him actual say that he wants to be your friend warms your heart more than it should.

You give him a slight smile.

“You can start being a good friend and have a movie night with me?”

At first, Peter looks shocked that you’re willing to just forgive him so quickly. But then the expression on his face soon turns jovial as you shoot over on the bed, allowing him to sit next to you.

You smile as you press play on the movie you were watching. You can feel Peter’s eyes on the side of your face, but you ignore it until you know he’s watching the movie. Both of you just sit and watch, hands leisurely grabbing popcorn from the bowl between you. It almost feels normal, natural.

It actually feels like you have a friend again. Not that he can ever replace Gwen. And you know you could never replace Gwen in Peter’s eyes either. But both of you are filling the space that Gwen’s death left. It makes things easier for the both of you. It’s nice knowing that you have each other during this difficult time.

After a while, when all is calm between you and Peter and the movie is almost over, you turn to look over at Peter.

“You know, I visited Gwen’s grave today. I visit every week. You could come with me if you want.”

Peter is still for a moment, eyes locked on the screen in front of you. You wish you didn’t bring it up, knowing that Peter is just now starting to talk about Gwen’s death, and now you may have pushed too far too fast.

But then he looks over at you, a sad but gentle smile on his face.

“Yeah. I think that’d be nice.”

[simpjaes]

SWEET LITTLE MONEY MAKER. ― S.JY

When your best friend quite literally gifts you an entire man, you realize that you’re in no place to pretend that you don’t love it.  or the one where you’re very much an “i don’t need a man” type of person, and Jake shows you that you do, in fact, need a man….him, you specifically need him. Only because he needs you. 

MDNI! reblogs help writers, so please show your support through a reblog! PAIRING ― stripper!sim jaeyun x rich!afab reader

WORDCOUNT― 13.6k

CONTENT―  he’s a switch and desperately wants to be ur sugar baby, you’re a boring rich bitch who has no interest at first, masturbation, reader is kind of power-hungry, jake chokes her NOTE ― if you’ve read this before, specifically for jeno, hi. that was written by me back in 2022 except now it’s way better and not an absolute trash-fire. enjoy! not proof read kind of.

nsfw tags under cut::

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

NSFW TAGS― jake is a stripper so obv dancing and stripping, HE’S VERY SWITCH BUT MOSTLY SUBBY HERE, hand job, masturbation, choking without permission, finger fucking, making out, protected sex omg GASP, slight nipple play, riding, lil bit of stomach bulge, sensitive cock continues to get fucked lmfao

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift.

A downpayment of six hundred dollars told you enough about the man. It’s obvious he offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who have no one else to spend their money on. A parasite, a leech, is what he is. Yet, still, your best friend has been taunting you with the idea for months in an attempt to have you give the guy a try.

She had apparently heard of the infamous Jake through various means. All rich women, all lonely and unsatisfied women. Which, to you only seems like a fucking insult to be taunted with the very idea of hiring this man. What is she implying? That you’re lonely and unsatisfied? Please.

Some best friend. Then again, she has since experienced Jake herself, and now her taunting feels more like…promises. 

“He’s so clean, toned, and oh god–” She had paused with a flush across her cheeks as she thought back to the heated night. “The way he moves, shit, he teases so much. I could have died right then and there if he were to–” 

The expression of disinterest on your face did not halt her doting, nor did the blatant grimace you eventually shot at her. Genuinely, you cannot take her seriously. Already you know too much about her, which is nice and all, but you could do without the details of her little stripper friend and how “wet” he left her. 

“I even heard that sometimes he even gives special treatments with his services…” She had rolled her eyes after she said that, almost looking offended. “Not that I'd know or anything, he took my cash and left when our session was up.” 

You recall knowing exactly what that “treatment” probably entailed, and the reason your best friend didn’t get it was likely due to the fact that she’s, well, not that rich. You’d assume such an expensive man wouldn’t give special treatments to women who wouldn’t end up being repeat customers anyway. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t trying to drain her dry. 

And even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, practically force fed to you, the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner– for the entire duration of her doting compliments of Jake, you are simply not fucking interested. There’s other things to do in life, more to worry about than getting your body excited for someone who will never finish the job. 

Last week was when your bestie told you all about her single night with him. In fact, her entire visit was just her speaking of him, of how great he is, of how alluring he is. Arguably, you see that she’s a bit obsessed. Does it make you curious? Maybe a little bit, but not enough to actually give him a go yourself. And so, after that visit, you watched her leave with a menacing, evil little glint in her eye. You ignored it, as per usual considering she’s always up to something, unaware that the visit she lends to you today is not a complimentary marketing campaign of a male stripper, no, it’s a fucking ambush. 

When she appeared at your doorstep, she said nothing. She didn’t even look you in the eye, actually. Weird.  She did, however, have an envelope in her hand and you were almost offended at how she threw it at you and trotted away without a single greeting or goodbye. No afternoon lunch over champagne, no gossip, no advertising. Just an envelope. 

Suspicious.

Upon opening said envelope, you find that your bitch of a best friend dropped that six hundred dollar down payment, likely in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you always are. There’s a note. Your name in bold letters, a date, a time, and a signature of none other than “Jake Sim” with a fucking website on the back. 

Shortly after huffing and rolling your eyes, about two seconds from tossing her six hundred dollars in the trash, you feel your phone ping to show your best friend texting you. 

Best Friend: I paid for it, you just have to tip him. a lot. tip him a lot. You: why the fuck would you buy a stripper for me?

Best Friend: you need it, trust me. 

So, now here you are waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for some dude that’s about to swing his meat in your face. Appearance, reputation, whatever. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there’s a stripper out there that only does private parties and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look? 

He’s going to be expecting more than just you here, alone in your house. Surely, he won’t be expecting to waltz into someone’s home all oiled up only to find one very disinterested woman. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

To your dismay, Jake has apparently already been warned of you. Your best friend probably told him that you’re a nightmare, too difficult to fluster or gain an interest from. The first words out of his mouth when you opened your door was “She said you’d give me that look.”

Still, even so, your best friend wasn’t lying to him. You played the part of yourself all too well as you watched him saunter into your home as if he owned the place. You’re impressed actually, with the way he doesn’t seem to feel out of place in such a lavish room. He looks…comfortable here as he scopes out his stage for the night, like he belongs. 

“Big place, looked smaller on the outside.” He says casually, filling the silence in the room since you make no attempt yourself to greet him. 

You watch as he tosses his bag beside your living room couch and eyes the spacious area just in front of the large fireplace. His eyes flick to the windows, to the walls, counting the outlets and looking for shelves with space. 

“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You finally speak, admitting a small weakness of yours almost immediately. You are lonely, despite never wanting to admit it. And you watch as he shrugs, now crouching to grab wires from his bag. 

“Oh yeah?” He glances at you. “Must get lonely. What a good friend to purchase me to help you with that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at that, noting his calm and cool tone as he talks his business. The little smirk at the corner of his lips is charming, but it’s all for show. He’s just a pretty man, that’s all he’s got going for him and you guess you can respect the hustle. 

“This was not my doing.” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed. 

“Yeah, yeah–” He waves you off as he begins to set up, making space for small lights to set the mood, looking to see if you have a sound system he can use. “I already know that you’re new to this.” He’s still calm, still collected.

“Lucky for you, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.” He smirks again, now looking directly at you as he, now, fluffs some of your couch pillows. 

Your curiosity spikes again only for a moment. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual. You half expected him to waltz in cock swinging. Wasn’t he, like, supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? You know, show up and press play on a magical stereo that didn’t exist beforehand and start vibrating on you? 

Instead, he’s just setting up…fully clothed in a ratty sweater with jeans that hug his thighs. He doesn’t appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off. It makes you wonder. Makes you want to ask questions. Then again, you still have no interest in learning about him considering you already know exactly what he will be doing soon enough. 

“You’re good with the mood lighting, yeah? Or do you prefer the morgue lighting?” His eyes shoot up to the bright white lights on your ceiling as he goes for his laptop now, presumably to connect it to your very obvious sound system.

You only take slight offense to his comment on your living room lighting, considering you have a control panel that can make them way less blinding, but– he’s right. And now you’re a little insecure that you prefer such a drab color in your home. You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel just to prove you have warm lighting too, and that you can adjust the brightness. 

“Ah, perfect.” Jake hums from across the room, eyes focused on his laptop screen before glancing to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides you, knowing exactly which lighting accentuates his toned body the best when paired with his own little LED colored lights. 

You turn the knob slightly, wondering just how good he must be at dancing in houses like this one. 

“Little more.” He smiles

You dim the lighting more, looking at him and his relaxed posture. 

“Right there.” He finishes in a more gentle tone, eyes focusing back on his laptop as he prepares not only the playlist but the mood lighting from his end too. Red. Lots of red.

And you just watch, his voice ringing in your ears as you try to pretend that your best friend wasn’t right. Even with just this casual set up…he’s…goddamn, he’s alluring. In that ratty old sweater, with his messy hair and pretty smile. 

Stunning. 

This motherfucker is stunning. 

“Go and sit–” Jake says now, nodding to your couch as he places his laptop down, presumably done with the set up. “Just tell me where I can get myself ready and I’ll be back out shortly.” 

You point towards the guest bathroom as you take your seat on the couch, unsure as to why your hands feel so clammy. And by the time he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door shut, you attempt to make yourself comfortable. 

And goddammit, no matter how many times you’ve napped here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t find the comfort here right now. The curiosity of why you’re okay with this burns in your gut despite knowing exactly why. Despite the fact that your best friend can always see straight through you and know exactly what you are. 

At the end of the day though, why the curiosity exists isn’t what matters. It’s the curiosity itself. You want to know how much money Jake makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise himself in a way to only find women like you, and many other things. Countless things. He’s hot as hell, actually, and how he’s come to do this kind of work is either one of two things. One being that he’s using what the Gods gave him to the fullest. Two, being that he had no other choice. 

If he’s going to be paid to give you attention, the least you can hope is that he does it because he enjoys it, not because he has to do it. And if it does end up being because he has to do it, then perhaps his tip would be even larger than what you’d give for the ladder. 

You’re uncomfortable. 

The fact looming that you genuinely could go out and find a man at any given moment, yet here you are with a man forced upon you because you simply won’t do it. The implications of this man being here, why he’s here, how he ended up in this situation. 

You’ve never been one to care, so why start now? 

“You overthink too much.” Your best friend had said to you once, twice, hundreds of times during your friendship.  Maybe she’s right, maybe you should just enjoy the show without feeling entitled to a slutty man’s life story.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake remains in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, each of them passing like a nightmare in your head. Back and forth your brain goes, from not wanting to be in this situation to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very, very attractive man is primping himself for you to look at, he’s going to come out and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy something for once. Enjoy him. Gawk and fawn over him. After all, at least you know there’s no promise to be had after he leaves. 

No missed calls, no blocked numbers. This is business. 

Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of your bathroom your mind has adjusted itself into the correct state of mind for this. A torturous adventure of thoughts, but you made it nonetheless. You actually can’t even look away from him now that he’s revealed himself, even when you tried. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks tacky or cheap. Hell, he doesn’t even look sexual. He just looks…

Expensive. 

Jake genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs. He smells like he belongs here, walks and murmurs like it too. 

You feel yourself physically react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found the attire sexy in any way until now. The suit looks much like what your team would wear day to day in the office. Always all those shy men coming into your office, stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jake isn’t stuttering in his suit though, he’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hasn’t even noticed you staring yet. 

One look from him though is all he needed. Choosing this attire for someone like you is sure to mix both business and pleasure. It was a gamble of course, to bring your work home for you, but he does have the slight hope that you’ll never look at a man in a suit the same way again after this. 

And goddamn the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. His blazer was partially open revealing nothing but skin when he walked into the room, and you honestly wonder if he even needed to do that. He could be fully clothed at this point and you think the room would still feel hotter than usual given your mind-state. 

The way his belt held his pants on his hips was enough to have you thinking, looking as if it’s begging to be unbuckled just so the sound of it could fill your ears. The way the blazer widens his shoulders much more than the sweater from before. He looks bigger right now, both physically and in aura. 

The scent of him wafted off of him in an even prettier way when paired with his image. He smells like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions. And under the assumption that the scent is why his abs are fucking glistening– fucking body oil. He uses body oil for this.

His hair rustles about when he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he’s playing accentuating each step towards you. So…the talking is done then? Your cheeks heat up at how quickly he starts his session with you, even without a single roll of his body. Already, you could eat him alive, the smirk on his face leading your eyes straight to him. 

Trailing down, down down. To his neck, that small glimpse of exposed chest, to the even more exposed lower abdomen section. His belt.

“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he grips the couch.

You can’t look up at him, eyes training on his chest that you can now fully see through his single buttoned blazer. That same sweet musk assaulting your lungs. 

Watching you from up here, Jake can tell you’re going to be fun to play with. A woman with such a harsh exterior now melting at the mere image of him when he’s got the right lights on him. To be fair, he really was warned and prepared by your friend, which didn’t seem the type to afford him on more than one occasion.

He thought it was nice that she paid for another session, shocking him to learn that it wasn’t for herself at all. What a wonderful friend, and what a bitch you’d be to have turned him away. 

Finally, you nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you genuinely did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look? Especially when the man is Jake, and he’s presenting himself like this.

“Rule number one.” Jake smiles, swaying in front of you as his grip tightens against the couch, wanting you to feel trapped and hopefully mesmerized by him, “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you toss a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.” 

That’s clearly not an issue you could fathom having, despite your internal protests. You only carry bigger bills anyway so you nod to him, quickly forgetting he even shared that ridiculous rule that would never apply to you by means of watching his hips swirl rather than sway. You see the heaviness in his pants, and you wonder if he gets himself hard for these little shows. 

You fear looking up at his face now too, because you know he’s staring down at you, watching your every breath, every move. 

“Rule number two,” He lends down now, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without being invited, or without asking.”

Now, that’s a rule that applies to you only because you immediately want to defy it. There’s a knee jerk reaction almost that makes you want to reach out, to grip his flexing body and pull it closer. You wanted to feel how slick his skin is with that wonderfully scented oil. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later, you wanted to feel how warm he must be. 

He doesn’t wait for your nod this time though, already noticing a familiar look on your face that he gets from most, if not all, of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand, after all. If he plays hard to get, sometimes he gets more out of his sessions. Sometimes he even gets a repeat client. 

“And rule number three–” He continues, this time pulling back and positioning his face in front of yours. This rule appears to be an important one, the rule where you need to look at his face rather than his body. As if it needs to be heard. “I won’t touch you unless you ask– or beg.” 

What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t something he often speaks of. Sometimes, very rarely, Jake is in a mood when he goes out on a job. Condoms are always with him, just in case, but he never intends to use them or utter rule number three until meeting said client. They pay to look at him, not to touch him, however…if they pique his interest he surely offers the third rule. 

And if a client never hears of it, they know that even if they ask to touch, he would never. Even if they want him to touch, he wouldn’t touch anywhere too pleasurable. 

Meaning, you were right to assume what he was doing in your bathroom for so long. His hand felt better than usual against his length for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and you were to be a point of his own desire too. He played with himself for a bit, allowing himself to get half hard before coming out of the bathroom.

The way you looked at him finished the job, allowing his cock to grow to full attention at the mere sight of you fawning over him in silent discomfort. So– yeah, the third rule being for you was a given. 

And when you swallow around a lump in your throat and look dead into his eyes, he thinks you know exactly what he means too. You’re lucky his cock is acting up, hell, he’s lucky it’s acting up. Look at you, fuck. Those tired eyes look ignited, and what luck the two of you have to have ever known your best friend. 

“Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head cutely and waiting for you to nod. And you do nod, just as he suspected you would. Slowly, before glancing down at his body again. 

He knows now that it’s time to start moving. Really moving.

“Is the song okay?” He asks, now pulling back and bracing himself against the back of your couch with all of his strength. “It was picked specifically for you.”

You’re not entirely what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you’d like. 

“It’s fine.” You say, glancing away from his direct eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-struck puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy because of him.

Jake notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song, but he doesn’t push. He’s better at talking with his body anyway. So, he begins to focus. Opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up. 

He steps back and away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a little more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, and he suspects you’re of the same mind. 

This entire playlist is chosen for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they so wish to. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through the body in a way that makes him shiver. He can move as if he’s fucking you even from across the room without so much as a touch, and he knows you’ll realize it.

He’s at his best too, when this sort of thing happens to him. The eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed for a reason other than payment, and arguably he feels he’s most attractive like this too. Considering the countless times he’s been paid to dance and expose himself to women he’d never even look at twice, it always hits differently when a client is just his type. 

And when he looks at you through the start of his dance, you appear to be painfully stiff against that soft couch. He smirks, a small chuckle rumbling from his chest. If only you knew how lucky you are, knowing his clients would be on their knees for a chance to experience him like this. 

The fact that it’s your first time doing this…he’d be smart to not pull this shit on you. He’s never tried this with a new client, after all but–fuck, just look at you.

Jake’s hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. He easily dances along to the music for you, as if it’s second nature to him despite not yet removing any clothing. It’s the build-up for him now, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Of course, if he leaves your house tonight with a large tip in his pocket and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too, though not preferable. 

You watch him the same way he watches you, after all, the electricity for this to play out is there. It’s rare that he can feel goosebumps raise on his skin by a mere look from a woman that looks far too powerful despite sitting there helpless. He’s making you helpless, the dim lighting of this room accentuating his body is making you helpless. 

And truly, you find yourself understanding with each shadow on his stomach as to why he’s so favored in the groups of lonely women. Arguably, you’re shocked your best friend decided to share him.

As the song begins to fade, Jake readjusts himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It feels intimate with the way his eyes slowly scan your body in the quiet room. As if the silence doesn’t need to be filled with anything other than eye contact.

For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Typically, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. They’re muttering, moaning, or shouting for him to hurry up, that the clock is ticking and they want to see more. But not you. Even as the next song plays, your eyes stay focused on his until he looks away and starts closing the distance. He skews his body now, allowing you to see him in profile. 

In some ways, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has with you, even as he drops to his knees during a particular part in the song, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him. 

He glances to his side, and still you’re searching his face.

He, now, looks back down for a moment, finding himself trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking. Thankfully, your eyes do follow his, and you gasp at the way he moves. 

Your mouth falls open, gripping the hem of your dress as you imagine exactly what he intended.

The fact that this is your first time, Jake realizes this is new ground for him too. Typically, he speaks with his body and it appears now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. Like the roles are switched, he has to do to you what you’re supposed to be doing to him.

This is new, but warranted. Easy, even, for him to do it because he does want you.

You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re barely watching him fuck the air in front of him. Yeah, you see that too, but your eyes always go back to his and now, his own gaze is meeting yours. His gaze is searching your body, watching you move in reaction. From the way your fingers grip at the clothes he’d like to see on the floor later, to the way you slightly rub your legs together in a way that is almost too easy to miss. This alone is enough for him as his eyes burn their gaze into you. Much like you’re supposed to be doing to him.

He’s supposed to be able to look at you and know exactly what you’re thinking. So be it, the least he can do is let you know what he’s thinking. 

Jake’s dance is more intentional now when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his head turned towards you. He tries to show you specifically what he would do to you. That bulge in his pants is large and blatant as he thrusts forward and back to the music. You glance to it, offering the same jittery reactions of arousal. 

And this is when he allows his blazer to slide off of his shoulders, reaching to unbutton that single clasp for it to go sliding to the floor. He continues his movements through it, watching your eyes move to his arms and the strength used to hold himself up, his skin more and more visible to you. You do try to keep eye contact but…well, the way his abs flex when he presses forward, going concave with each inhale of those sensual lips that constantly smirk at you. 

It’s a shame, really, to know that the bulge in his pants will remain there, unseen. 

With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he regains his focus. He wants you so badly by this point that it’s driving him crazy how hard he’s having to work for it. You’re supposed to be feeling this way, not him. Even if he can see that his routine is causing a reaction from you, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him. 

Meaning, he needs to work harder. The current song is soon to be replaced with another, his favorite to dance to, his favorite to fuck to. And to be fair, by the time this playlist gets to this song on this specific playlist, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back and he can fucking see it.

He ignores the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next set of dancing, mostly because he almost never has to get to this part, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eyes. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to amplify the way he’s looking at you, confidence so high that he’s fine with being seen in any way you want.

He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch the way his shoulders move in the light, his eyes rounded and cheeky, his hair falling in front of them with a charming movement. It’s not intentional when you rub your legs together at the image yet again, very much wanting to spread them the closer he gets to you. 

You can’t help but think he looks smaller on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You do wonder if your face reads the same for him, with the nervousness hitting you off and on. 

“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” Jake mutters out of nowhere under the veil of his music, stopping in place in front of you, planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you, is that okay?”

Nevermind the fact that Jake has never actually had to ask to touch a client before, he really can’t help it at this point. His cock is aching in his pants and he isn’t quite ready to wait an entire playlist worth of songs just to put his clothes back on and leave the door with pain between his legs. He very much wants to fuck something right now, preferably someone.

You.

On the other hand, he’s pleased to see how fucking fast you accept his request. Yes, he can touch you. Fuck, you want him to touch you.

And the whole idea that this is just him doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to entertain. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck. You can pretend that he only does this for you, you can live in a fantasy just for a night. 

Jake lends you a smile as the current song finally fades out, the silence back except this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod. 

He’s slow when he places his hand on your knees, rubbing up, up, up until he’s able to lift himself and hover over you. He intentionally pushes your dress up your thighs, solely because he wanted to see you rub them together in full, shameless view for him. He wants to know what his body does for you. What it does to you. 

And he stands, hovering over you for a moment with his hands glued to your thighs before he stares down at them. You just do as he expected, you rub your legs together, you look anywhere but at his eyes now, your hands grip the couch beneath you.

“I’m going to get on top of you,” Jake says now, dipping his head into your line of sight and forcing eye contact again, now gripping the back of the couch rather than your thighs, Just as he did when all of this started. “Would you like that?”

“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You suddenly ask with a smaller voice than you gave him upon opening your door. You breathe in sharply when he moves instead of answering your question immediately. 

He spreads his legs, propping himself right on your lap, facing towards you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest radiating near your face. 

“What kind of answer are you looking for?” He laughs fondly, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. “You should touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule with that one, not wanting to wait any longer for you to maybe ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.

“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling the warmth pool and drip into your panties. “It’s a yes or no question.”

He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there. 

“No,” he admits, moving his focus to the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all  of my clients.” 

Jake isn’t sure why he does it, but now he can’t bring himself to look at you. The eye contact feels more intimate than it should with you asking him such a question and demanding an answer. Even as he swirls his hips, feeling his clothed cock rub up and against you every few seconds, it feels almost too intimate. 

“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward. 

“You know,” He mutters, guiding your hands a bit lower despite his own confusion at how much he’s enjoying this moment with you. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm and you think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the warmth of his cock under his pants..  

Your pulse quickens as your ears start to ring. Your eyes avoid where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and looking up at him with question. He’s not looking back though, instead, his head is dropped and he’s staring at his pathetic bulge against your hand. He’s dancing into it, against it.

“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough.”

You feel shocked at that. A client that doesn’t want him? Is he fucking insane?! Then again, you need to be honest with yourself sometimes. You’ve tried to appear as uninterested as possible until he started crawling to you. There is clear attraction, obvious needs swirling in the air right now. You force yourself now to look at your hand with the hefty bulge rubbing desperately against it. The sheer size of him is something entirely different from what you were expecting out of him. This feels forbidden.

Wrong, even, But goddamn. The man is masquerading his dance solely so he can fuck against your right now. Maybe you should show some interest. 

“You’re doing well, Jake,” You finally mutter to him, the first compliment you’ve given since he got here. 

“Yeah?’ He sighs out, relieved as his hips press harder into your palm. Arguably, he’s not even dancing at this point, just trying to get off. “How well?”

Yeah, he’s a little desperate at this point for you to do something on your own. It’s so out of character for him to do all of this just to…well, get off.

“Show me,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, the buckle is right there–” he nearly pleads. “You don’t have to be shy.”

Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his belt and now, sliding your hands up his body to meet his. 

“There you go,” He stresses through another relieved sigh. Leaving your hands where they are against his chest and sliding the belt from his loops on his own. He tosses the belt behind him, relishing in that lost look in your eye.

You clearly have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you seem to like it. And god, does he fucking love it. Especially when he motions his head back down, forcing your hands back to where they belong and helping you unbutton his pants. 

“Take it out, go on.” He says in a rush, “I’m asking you to do it.”

To be fair, you’re going to do it despite the nervousness in your gut. It’s been so long since you’ve touched a man, and even longer since you wanted to. You could half argue that you feel like you’re about to lose your virginity right now despite all those hook-ups in college. Still, you don’t even nod at him when you do it. Carefully tugging his pants down and watching the weight of his cock do the rest of the work for you. 

His legs spread wider as he points it up at you, a lewd scene, one that feels both disgustingly sexy and very, very, straight forward. You’ve never been like this with any other person. Or rather, no one has ever blatantly shown themselves like this to you. 

And still, Jake just looks at you. So much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel the air in your apartment against the head of his cock, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver with a very quiet moan. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs. Then he sees a new look in your eyes.

Are you…waiting to be told what to do? 

For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone been seduced by one. Honestly though, he assumed you’d catch on by the point his cock was out. This isn’t for show anymore, he wants you. 

“Touch me?” He asks gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t even have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence as he feels you grasp him in your fist.

Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, this one not at all being one of them. You’re hesitant but willing, perhaps? You leave him questioning himself and his own motives, still wondering if that compliment you gave him was genuine or just part of your own little show. 

Yet still, you’re gripping him tightly and allow him to focus his hopes. Dancing beautifully into that little circle your hand creates for him. The best part is that when or if he ever actually dances to this song, it’s when he’s blatantly fucking someone. So the movements come naturally, just as they would if your legs were buckling and your pussy was spread open on him. So, basically, this dance is nothing short of fucking your fist, pretending to keep up an act that he so wishes you’d see through. 

He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him to turn the tables and position you to where your legs are on his shoulders and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, soaked panties.  

It’s a struggle though, to not moan out in desperation when you tighten your grip on him. He watches your pupils blow out, and can see the way you’d now probably ask him to do just that. To put it on you, to shove it in you. And so, he slows his hips a bit and catches his breath, staring down at you in wait. 

“You’re really expecting me to get off all on my own?” He finally says in an exasperated breath to your stillness and silence. He really is, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “Baby, don’t you want it?” He adds, now waiting to see if you’ll move your hand away from him.

You don’t though, to his surprise, you actually start moving your hand on him. You’re jerking him off, staring up at him like you want it, squeezing the head of his cock before dragging those pretty fingers back down. 

Instantly his eyes roll back. “Fuck, that’s good,” He compliments your hand, shaking a bit and shivering at the fact that you really just did that. “Can I stop pretending that I’m still dancing for you now?”  

You find it in yourself to chuckle now, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you fairly quickly, actually, as you watched him chase his pleasure all by himself. He’s so hard, and so incredibly thick in your hand, you’d be stupid to say it didn’t turn you on. It’s that fact that you’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging you to look at him, to watch him, to touch him. All of your nervousness slowly disappeared because it was being replaced with power. 

Now, that, you’re used to. You know what power feels like in all aspects of the working world, but never at home. Never when sex is involved. You’re always expected to play the part of a desperate woman in need of love, and that’s just not you. No, you’re a powerful woman with nerves that could kill you. And the way Jake parallels your working world, it’s almost too perfect. You’re used to men being beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors. 

Jake isn’t exactly begging you for money, but he’s still begging for your hands. 

“No.” You finally say, relishing in the shock on Jake’s face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”

His eyes fall a bit now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time at your response, but you move your hand a bit faster. You grip a bit tighter, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told now, considering you’re the one with the money to bring him back here. 

It’s endearing how he does his best, and honestly, his best probably far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market if you had any idea of how they were. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act for him when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way. 

“You’re–” He pauses to hold in a moan, feeling the way you drag your hand in time with his dance. “You’re not going to ask me to touch you?” He finally adds, meeker than before, far less confidence. 

In fact, he’s hiding his face.

You smile in response, looking up at him with dark and wide pupils as you swallow each movement his body makes for you. Your ears are still ringing, unable to comprehend the music blasting in your sound system. Your focus is solely on him, your hands are on him, your confidence is because of him. 

The answer to that question should be a given, after all, shouldn’t he be well aware considering this little stunt he pulled that actions truly speak louder than words?

“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start, now loosening your grip on him just to see the way his hips frantically chase the warmth of your palm.

“Wait–” He asks slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed and bashful. “You really thought, I let her get me off like this?” 

It almost pisses him off that you’d say that to him, then again, it’s not like you knew that this specific instance is rare and reserved for very few clients. 

“You couldn’t even look at me properly thirty minutes ago, now you think you can make assumptions?” He argues, pushing away from you.

Your response is skewing an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles off of you and onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect, twitching at the sudden lack of friction. 

“Is it wrong to assume when you very clearly want me to make you cum?” 

He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing at you as he leans over you. 

“Are you suggesting that you’ll get me off?”

You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness drip through your panties now. 

“She did tell me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “I also know that she was no such client.”

A small moment of silence as he devours you with his eyes, seemingly interested in the attitude you have towards him now.

“I also didn’t imagine your clients would be the ones getting you off.” 

Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your cunt in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please. 

“Normally they’d be jumping at the chance, you though–” Jake very nearly growls at you with a deepened voice. “You look like you’re the one who needs to get off, if anything to get that snarky grin off your face.”

“Go on then, dance.”

It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along. 

He raises a brow at you as he steps back once more, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.

Jake does as he’s told, finally kicking his pants off in full and keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress as you continue to spread your legs more and more, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.

When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with each breath he forces out of you, and the way your nipples perk through the fabric.

So, he stays here behind you with his hips pressed to the back of your couch, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers somehow reaching your skin. 

  And he continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again, mostly because he’s already been given permission to touch you there. 

“More,” He gently demands between lyrics. “Spread them all the way.”

Jake watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs stretch open, your dress hiking up past your waist, enough now that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy. 

“Ask me to touch you.” He pleads against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “Just tell me you want it.” 

It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you. 

You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. 

Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this. 

“No.” You playfully respond, dangling yourself just out of reach. You breathe in deep though, knowing you can’t keep denying him for much longer with the way his hands are rubbing at you. “I like it better when you’re the one asking for it.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you. 

Oh. 

“Cute.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you at this point. It’s just…new to him.

Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that doesn’t involve your panty line. 

“May I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?” 

You could mistake this distance as something that should not be crossed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want to do is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him. 

“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him. 

He breathes in, seemingly frustrated.

“My fingers. Take them.” He says rather than asking this time, already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping–baby,” He stops to moan at it, amazed by how fucking soaked you are. “I can imagine they’d slide right in.” 

Typically, you wouldn’t allow anyone to call you that. “Baby.” but coming from his mouth, it sounds fitting. It sounds seductive, sexy. It has your stomach in knots, actually, your hips bouncing up just slightly at his words with the pet name attached. Finally, you let him. Finally, you grind yourself against his fingers. 

“I’ll make you feel so good–” He groans at your movements, loving how desperate you suddenly appear despite pretending you weren’t going to work for your own pleasure. He continues to trace his fingers up and down just to feel the mess of you, the one that he created, and the one that he intends to make messier. 

“Moving your hips isn’t the answer though, baby.”

You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it. 

“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him. “I’ll take them.”

That breathy laugh he releases sounds sweet, almost dripping like syrup when he lays his head beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he listens to you now more than the music, his fingers continuously ghosting where he promised to put them, not yet moving your panties. 

Paired with it, his abdomen stays tense as he humps against your couch, his muscles locking up at the pleasure running through him in this position. Your hips lightly chase his fingers, up when his fingers move down, and he can’t help the shy smile that spreads across his lips. It’s one you don’t see, but the constant shift in your personality is something that keeps him on edge. Keeps him wanting more, to know more, to see and feel more of you. 

And when he finally reaches around you with his other hand, pulling your panties to the side and exposing your pussy, he watches you take over for him and push them down instead, offering far more than he anticipated. He watches as you kick them off your ankles almost elegantly, as if you could do this job of dancing better than he can.

“Eager?” He teases, knowing you won’t respond to that. And you don’t. It pleases him to know that at least by now, he can kind of read you. Yet, still, there’s nothing more at this moment that would please him more than getting to see you in full. To wander back around this couch and get a real good, close up look at what he’s doing to you. 

“You’re so wet right now.” He groans, knowing that you were soaked before and only hoping you’re dripping more and more for him now. His cock is weeping as much as he’d like for you to be, chasing any amount of friction he could have. And he can see his fingers slip and slide through your slick into places he wasn’t even attempting to touch just yet solely because of how wet you are. 

“You held out for so long,” He coos now with a soft breath against your neck, feeling your cheek nuzzle against his flexing arm. “Look at that,” Two of his fingers tease at your hole before– “they slipped right in.”

Your breathing is labored by this point, feeling him play with you as if he has all the time in the world to fuck with your head. Which is…nice. No rushing despite the time limit on his session, proving time and time again that you’re getting more than others get from him. Lucky you, that you can moan out without shame for him. 

And you do, grabbing his hand and practically fucking yourself with his fingers. That takes him by surprise as the warmth and sheer tightness envelopes his digits. You are excruciatingly sexy to him, he doesn’t even attempt to stop you.

In fact, he doesn’t even hold back now, meeting each chase of your hips with the force of his fingers plunging into you deeply, with full intention. He scissors them open, feeling your hole stretch around them beautifully enough to fit in a third. And god, you’re so fucking wet. He can hear the slapping of his soaked fingers inside of you pushing more and more of that arousal out. 

He moans blatantly against your ear now, easing you into talking back to you. 

“Bet you could take cock so well–” He murmurs, feeling you shiver against his grasp. “How long has it been? Hm?”

He’s talking to you, yes, but hyping himself up at the same time. The scent of your hair forcing a slight obsession with you in his mind. The way you feel, look, smell, move when you’re just inches from him like this. He knows you won’t respond to a goddamn thing he says too, but it doesn’t matter too much to him at this point. Because now, you’re whimpering.

Such a confident, well respected woman…fucking whimpering.

“What was that?” He asks playfully, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Has it been that long?”

And for the first time, you were going to answer. For the first time, he doesn’t leave room for you to answer. Instead, you feel his palm resting flush against your neck, now pressing in and practically holding you down by the neck as he fucks his fingers into you faster. 

Painfully faster.

“Cry for me again,” He encourages you, wincing as his own hips frantically chase the back of your couch. “You’re allowed, come on, do it again.”

And because he’s working for it, because he’s doing so fucking well, you let out another choked moan. His hand straining your neck so tightly that any sound coming out sounds strained and desperate, even the sound of yourself right now ignites a fire inside of you. You can feel that grasp tighten each time his fingers fuck into you with a painful jab, his palm placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed each time he pulls his hand back.

It’s…overwhelming.

“Yes, fuck- again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder, all so he can look down at you. He’s heard you, now he wants to fucking see how desperate you are when you cry out. 

When you open your eyes again, wincing every few seconds at both the pleasure and pain of his desperate hands, all you can see is his face. All you can feel are those same long fingers threatening more and more cries from your chest. He’s hitting spots inside of you that haven't been touched in a long time. Feeling it now almost burns, even with the cold metal of that single ring on his finger against your neck. 

And when he tightens that hand on your neck once more, not only do you cry out, but he matches you with his own stuttered gasp. You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment, watching the way his teeth appear to scrape at his bottom lip when the sound of you envelopes his ears. So, you do it again, and again, and again. 

His fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palms still hitting your clit, and that other hand around your throat…honestly? You could fucking sing songs to him at this moment if he so wished it. 

“You’re shaking.” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”

His smile looks so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand harder against your throat. Nevermind the fact that you never discussed this type of thing with him, fucking wasn’t even in the agenda. But now? Fuck it. You do like it. Maybe you even love it. The way you’re moaning for him is all either of you need to know. 

This time though, when you moan out and it’s sounding particularly raspy, he releases his hand from your throat and instantly leans down to your lips. He’s a bit shocked that you immediately strain your neck to kiss him. What he was going to do was degrade you. Now though, he’s just tasting the way you’re so desperate to kiss him. As if you’re wanting this to be real, to be intimate. 

Arguably, your idea was better than his own because now he can’t bring himself to degrade you. In fact, he was stupid to even consider such a fucking thing. Despite never kissing his clients, things with you have already lasted far longer than he’d normally allow. Things have already surpassed the intimacy level he allows too, even with the very few lucky women who get to touch him. He’s never asked for it, and he’s never gotten this much of his own pleasure out of finger fucking them. Not once has he ever fucked himself against a couch to hold himself back for a woman either. 

Maybe just this once, he can want it to be real too. Even if he leaves with a pocket full of cash, the fantasy right now is enough for him to accept it as is. If you want him to kiss you, he will fucking kiss you.

His pupils grow as his eyes close, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. Even his body against your couch relaxes and his hips slow to that of a sensual thrust forward, one that offers a long and painful drag against his already raw and reddened cock. You kiss him back better than he’s even been kissed before, and falling into it was terrifyingly easy. 

His brain nearly short circuits at the softness of it, allowing his hands to move on their own accord, cupping your jaw with one hand and emptying your pussy to rub your clit with the other. He’s intentionally deepening the kiss far past his own comfort level.

But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it. 

“You can take it–” Jake mutters between kisses, more focused on your lips than the words he spilling to you. “You want more, right?” He continues, only now pulling back in a breath and waiting for you to adjust your eyes on his. 

Immediately, when you open your eyes they widen at him. Goddamn, was he this sexy before? Did he even look this into you when he was on your lap fucking your fist? Out of all of his begging, this…this right here. Are you really about to fuck a stripper? The man you were so against meeting just this morning? The man who has $600 in his bank account from your lovely, fucking adored and beautiful best friend? 

The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs up and moves on as if this never happened?

Yes.

“I want more–” You say to him, blinking at his pretty eyes and intentionally rubbing your clit against his fingers, mostly because it appears as if he’s stopped functioning all together.

And before you can even blink, his fingers are pulled away and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still erect and heavy against his thigh as he goes directly to his bag. As if he knew it was going to happen, as if this was his plan before he even met you, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.

After all, he does have to take precautions to be fucking an absolute stranger like this.

“Oh.” You huff in disappointment, not entirely meaning for him to hear it. 

He raises his eyes to you as he pulls at the end of the condom, offering plenty of space for whatever release he intends to have soon, but his eyes don’t seem concerned nor bothered. 

“What? You want it raw?” He asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows briefly before making his way back to you. “That’ll require a bit more discussion, you know.”

Discussion that neither of you are willing to have solely because your pussy is throbbing and his cock appears to be more pathetic than it already was being strangled in that thin layer of latex. And without another word, allowing both of you to put that to rest for now, he’s right back over you, lifting your dress up and off of you. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out as your tits falls from their perfect place within the dress. The sopping wet couch beneath you only soaking up more of your slick as his words force more out of you. God, you feel so wanted. 

You keep your arms lifted to help him ease the dress entirely off of you, leaving you bare beneath him as he instantly goes to grab both tits, pressing them together before flicking both nipples with the tips of his fingers. 

Your body jolts at the sensation, feeling it run through you and swell your clit more than it already was. The ache is worse, your hole is pulsing, yearning, wanting to be filled. Still though, he takes his precious expensive time, leaning down and sucking one erect nub into his mouth and flicking it all the same with his tongue. 

“Right here?” He mouths from around your tit, eyes closed and tongue still focused elsewhere. “You want to be fucked here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question will likely go unanswered. It’s very likely that he is going to fuck you right here, on your living room couch. Asking you such a thing was stupid, borderline cringe-worthy. 

To his surprise though, you lend him a small “no.” as you lace your fingers in his hair, pushing his lips to your other nipple just to feel the warmth of his tongue.

“No?” He questions, blinking up at you from your chest before biting gently around the sensitive bud against his mouth. “Where then?” 

To his dismay, your smile is still beautiful but the way you close your legs and sit yourself up from the slouched, relaxed position you were in disappoints him. Mostly because he’s now forced to stand up too, and even more so because he has to keep his head dipped in order to keep his mouth on that perfect nipple of yours. 

His disappointment fades as you hold his head there, feeling your legs almost buckle against him when he moans around it, sending vibrations through your chest. You remain gentle though, wobbling on your legs and shuffling forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.

Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze your sensitive nub do you realize that he’s so, so much needier than you expected. Even with his begging, his little disappointed sound didn’t go unnoticed. His brows are still furrowed now, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him down so that you can be the one straddling him. It’s cute, actually. Noticing how he was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it…only to now look at him and the way he’s melting.

The way he’s needy, borderline puppy-like to be near you.

His eyebrows shoot up from that little face of disappointment though, when you pull yourself from his mouth and instead plant yourself right on his lap, letting your pussy lips envelope the underside of his cock as you grind up immediately.

It’s the first slippery touch his cock has felt all night and honestly? He’s been on edge this entire time. You grind so fucking beautifully, and it’s a first for him to realize that he’s entirely speechless.

You’ve rendered him incapable of speaking. 

“You’re cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist, “Really cute.”

He doesn’t falter at your compliments, instead he just melts into it even more. His cheeks are permanently blushed as he leans forward to try and get your tits in his face again, and all you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping your clit, and you’d never forgive yourself for not letting yourself have this kind of fun more often. 

And Jake just gets whinier. His cock pulses and twitches to be inside of you all the while despite the discomfort of that latex layer likely needing to be replaced already. Still, his hands keep moving your waist, pushing and pulling you faster against him until– ah.

You angle yourself perfectly when he slides your upwards again. All you had to do was perk your ass out and wait for him to push you back down. Finally, he slides in without fully realizing that’s what was going to happen, and goddamn the sound he makes, fuck.

“Mmfuck,” He winces, digging his nails into your hips at the speed of which he bottomed out. The breath is knocked out of him and all you can do is stare down. Look at him now, so docile and sweet like he wasn’t fucking your livingroom floor prior to this. 

And the grip of you on him, so strong. The slide was so easy, so fast, that he genuinely is seeing stars at how good you feel wrapped around him. The velvet walls inside of you pulsing, pushing and squeezing his cock all over. He can’t help the sounds he makes, grunting and feeling that grip you have in his hair intensify his pleasure. 

Both of you now let out a long winded breathy groan at the sensation of your body adjusting to his, in all fairness, you had to grip onto something and his hair just so happened to be the best thing at the moment. He seems to love it though, so when you finally regain your senses of being absolutely fucking full, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows. 

“Bounce.” He croaks out at you, eyes glistening with pure fucking hope that you will. 

And, well…when you feel his length pulse in place inside of you, you do exactly as he asked. You bounce, taking his full, thick cock each and every time. Not allowing a single inch of it to be neglected. All he can do in response is squint, trying to keep his eyes open through each breathy groan of praise and encouragement. He does lose himself entirely to the feeling of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you keep his head tilted back. 

He really didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned…if he moves right now he’s going to cum. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he just lazily smiles at you and lets his eyes finally close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.

Frustrated, yet incredibly turned on by the way you’ve just completely lost him, you bounce harder, then you sit flush against him, twisting and swirling your hips. Grinding forward back, counting how he moans each time you do something that feels particularly sensitive for him. And you hang onto that, repeating those actions, lifting your ass and sliding back down. Again and again, until your legs shake and your fingers threaten to pull his hair too hard.

“Look at you now,” You half-chuckle out of breath, hearing the wet slaps of skin on skin paired with his blatant and sensual moans drowning out the playlist that has been long forgotten. “You can’t even move.”

All he does is nod his head, that same lazy and cocky smile appears as if to insinuate that you’re damn fucking right he can’t. Like he’s proud of it. And you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist either, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he could draw blood if you move the wrong way.

“Keep going, baby–” He somehow manages to say to you. “Don’t stop.”

There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, and now he’s finally begging you to fuck him. His voice still sounds like honey, with that impressively hard cock inside of you pulsing so constantly that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it. 

“Mhm,” You answer him, promising that you won’t stop through just a half-moan and a long winded intake of air. Honestly? At this very moment, you feel like you’re sitting on a throne. Jake, obviously, being said throne but whatever. The fucking power he’s making you feel is nothing short of alluring. 

And now, as that power goes to your head, you opt to grind rather than bounce for him now. Your hips aren’t as erratic, yet still he tenses up for you, forcing his cock to somehow feel even harder as you fuck it into yourself through lazy drags of your clit against his pelvis. 

If you keep going like this, you could cum in an instant. But before you can even finish that thought, you look down at him on instinct due to his sudden silence. 

His eyes are squeezed shut tightly, and his mouth is open in a silent moan. You can see that he’s not breathing, seemingly holding his breath even after you release his hair. His head lolls back with that same expression, and that’s when you feel his fingernails dig.

“Oh,” You moan, now resuming your grinding much harder now, making a point to bump your clit repeatedly against him. “Fuck, are you cumming right now?”

Still he doesn’t respond, you can only feel his hips stutter under you despite trying to remain entirely still and stiff for you. You know that now is when you need to be chasing, because you’ll be damned if you’re not going to cum with him inside of you. 

You want to be full like this, you want to squeeze him, to play with his sensitive cock even if it starts to soften. He’s too pretty, too fucking pretty when he whimpers. And so, you continue grinding, up until you’re on the brink of your orgasm but not quite there yet. To the point his cock is only half in you with the way you’re angling your clit against him, chasing your own high so aggressively that you barely feel his fingers tightening on you again. 

Jake shoots his head back up, eyes opening as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t relent. The pain is intense from how hard you’re riding him, but he can see how close you are, the image alone compliments that sensitivity he’s feeling right now. 

He seethes out painful praises to you as your desperate cunt finally reaches orgasm, squeezing against his softening length so tightly that he can’t help but whimper with you. Still, he studies your face through his own winces, shuddering at the way you close your legs around him despite them being forced to stay open in this position. You try to curl into the pleasure, as if you wish you could disappear completely alongside it. 

And god, the way you grip at his arms for leverage as you shake through it. Dare he say…he’s fond of you. It still hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. Mostly because it feels like he’s been in this room with you for days, knowing that’s not true. Surely he’s stayed longer than your allotted time with him, but you seemed to have given him something worth staying for at least.

When you slump over him, he almost wants to cry from how fucking sensitive he is right now. Thankfully, you seem sensitive too as you wince before he does, remaining as gentle as you can when you reach down to the base of his cock and hold the condom, allowing him to slide out of you at his own pace. 

And then, the playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jake to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame. Now, all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven compared to any of his sessions with prior clients like this. He’s breathing much too fondly for you, or rather, not breathing well because of you. He can’t just…go home can he?

“You okay?” You ask to the slight panicked look on his face, seeing how he stares straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, no readable expression. “Jake?”

He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving and blinking to look at you.

“That–” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does. “Um…”

The change in atmosphere almost freaks you out. Isn’t this what he wanted? You saw the way he lost himself there briefly though, you can admit. None of this was even that rough or kinky, so you’re a bit confused as to why he’s acting like this.

Maybe you even feel a bit guilty. Like you’re the problem. So, you silence yourself and lift onto weak legs to stumble and find your dress. You throw it on quickly, hiding your shame that he so wanted to see just fifteen minutes ago. Then, you head for your purse and grab every single bill you have folded neatly inside. 

Just like that, you place the money in his shaking hand and can’t bare to look at him.

“Wha-” He starts, licking his dried lips and sitting up a bit too quickly. “Why are you giving me so much?”

“It’s your tip.” You try to say casually as you clear your throat. “You can shower too, if you’d like.” 

Jake holds his breath, hoping you don’t genuinely think he did all of that for the money. He was already paid to be here, the whole…you know, fucking thing, was his doing. What happened was because he wanted it, and…he still does. Are you truly just strictly back to business like this? You literally just handed him his rent for the month and then some, it kind of amazes him. The audacity. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women. You aren’t a woman who needs him, and yet you pay like you did. 

“Shower with me?” He forces himself to ask, because he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. After all, this tip feels like a rejection of what just happened. Hush money, even. 

He doesn’t know what just crept into this room through the fucking silence, but he doesn’t like it. And it seems you don’t either, because you instantly comfort him with a smile and a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He didn’t intend to spend the night, free of charge no less, but he did. All of that including some embarrassing talk involving the seriousness of how this is not normal for him. 

Surprisingly, you believe him. 

After the shower, the mood had shifted into something that felt natural and less rehearsed. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over with a downpayment of $600, he was Jake, a man trying to make ends meet in a city far too expensive even for you if you’re being honest. 

Jake, a man wanted by several women. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely and stone-cold heart with him, however much that may cost. Not to fall in love, or to fill any type of voice. If anything, you want to be taken care of in specific ways, and you’d like to take care of him in turn. 

So, when he grimaced at your joke, saying that he would practically be your sugar baby and that you’d run off all of his other business out of need to continuously be fucked by him and him alone, you almost stopped pressing the matter.

Because you would run off all his clients solely for keeping him too busy with you to go to them. You would be paying him every time, making damn sure he’s well taken care of and financially stable. 

Jake did notice how you looked disappointed, quickly backtracking his grimace.

“Wait, you’re serious?” 

You nod shyly, blinking at him.

“It’s not like we have to sleep together every time, you won’t even have to dance for me anymore.” You argue, knowing that’s at least a half-lie. “All I ask is that you don’t fuck your other clients if you’re still seeing me, and intending to..you know–”

Jake nods happily, without question even.

“So, what happens if I’m horny and you’re not available then?”

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“Jerk off like a normal person?”

Fair enough.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

man, i forgot how lame this fic is but yknow what? good for me. jake is so fuckin’ fine fr I DON’T EVEN CAREEEEEEEEEEE. pls reblog and leave feedback on my work :D

[acoazlove]

A New Place | part two

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Months after a horrible birthday, you’re happy with new friends, but soon you’ll find out that you have to face your family once again.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

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It’s been three months and they haven’t come to see you. Not a single one of them. So either they don’t care and haven’t looked for you, or they just can’t find you. However, that’s a stupid thought because they could send Azriel, he is the spymaster after all.

You have to keep telling yourself you don’t care because it's easier that way. Thinking about it for too long would cause you to spiral. One that you’re not sure you could get out of.

On the bright side of all of this, you’ve made friends with your coworkers, and know a few regulars by name.

Benny has been the most helpful through it all. Was there even when you were being stubborn and trying to pull away completely. Trying to isolate yourself so nothing and no one can hurt you again.

The first week after you had moved into the apartment above the bar—which isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds—she taught you how to pour drinks, what bottle is what on the shelf, how to clean glasses efficiently, but best of all, how to deal with all kinds of fae who decide to wander in. The worst of which were creepy males who couldn’t take no for an answer.

Benny kept your mind busy, doing anything and everything she could, giving you advice despite not asking for it. One of the most freeing feelings was no guilt when you went shopping for the first time since being on your own, now you don’t feel like you owe anyone when you spend a single dollar.

Your coworkers were the next best thing for getting your mind away from your family. Odessa—the black-haired female—is probably your favourite person other than Benny. She looked quite intimidating at first but once you got to know her she was a sweetheart—kind and funny. Quick to make you feel at home. She is also a busybody, not that you complain.

Speaking of Odessa, she’s standing in front of you, her hip leaning on the edge of the bar, animatedly moving her hands as she ranted about her latest experience with ‘irritating males’ as she so kindly put it.

“Gods, then he tried to buy me a drink even though I told him I wasn’t interested again.” Exasperated, she finishes her story with a scoff and an eye-roll. You purse your lips and lift your guilty gaze to meet hers, the female tilts her head at your expression, and her mouth drops open, “Were you not listening to me?” she exclaims.

You place the glass that you were drying down on the bar top. A heavy breath leaving you and an apologetic look on your face, “I was Dessa, I promise. I just got in my head.” Mumbling the last part. A playful glare graces her features, and then a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “You're lucky you’re good at your job. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice.” A snort escapes you at that.

Just as you were about to retort, a hand harshly claps your shoulder, “She is good at her job, but she won’t be if she keeps getting distracted by you. Now go on.” The deep voice shoos her away. Frowning in return, she grabs a tray of drinks and stalks off with a crude gesture thrown over her shoulder at him.

You turn to see scruffy brown hair and tanned skin—Dominic. who is the biggest and most intimidating male you’ve ever seen, also an older male, with faint lines on his scowling face. He still won't tell you how old he is. You'd have to guess he's older than the males in the inner circle.

He raises his eyebrows at you. Flushing slightly upon realising that he must have asked you a question, while you were lost in thought. Again.

A sharp exhale passes through his lips, waving a hand in exasperation, “Can you please go check on the boys in the back? They're taking far too long to just bring out a couple of crates of booze.” With a curt nod, you turn and head into the kitchen.

Scanning the room, you find the two males you were sent to find. Oberon and Tarian, chatting away while seated in the corner. You arch a brow at the sight, arms crossing over your chest. The huff you let out pulls their attention to you, a friendly smile from Tarian and a feline smirk from Oberon sent your way.

“Dominic wants to know what’s taking you so long to get the new crates of liquor.” Grimaces shift their expressions. They share a look before turning back to you. Oberon's cropped blonde hair falls across his forehead at the movement, blue eyes meeting your own. Lips pulled into his previous smirk. “Wasn't Adem supposed to help?”

An incredulous look twists your features. “Just do it.” You grumble before turning to leave. “y/n.” Tarian’s raspy voice grabs your attention. Pale skin glimmering in the soft lights, “Cover for us?” mousy-coloured curls bouncing slightly with a tilt of his head. Grey eyes glittered with mischief.

You scoff before you exit the kitchen. “No. I got in trouble last time.” snickers are heard from behind you at that, though you do hear bottles clink together, indicating they had finally decided to do their job.

Blue hair flashes across your vision, Benny stepping into your path. “Break time.” voice with a singsong tone. Just as you're about to argue that you had your last one not too long ago, she cuts in. “Your last break was about five hours ago.” her arms folded over her chest.

Eyes widening before giving her a small defeated nod, you follow her to the bar's entrance, passing Adem on the way. The red-haired male gives you a smile, which you return as you pass through the door.

─

The inner circle has been miserable, sulking over every word you had yelled at them. Truly realising their own mistakes soon after the door had slammed closed behind them. Not going to look for you, with the excuse of wanting to give you space. Three months of space isn’t enough it seems.

Azriel immediately sent a few shadows after you to make sure you’d be okay. Well as okay as one could be after a horrific birthday. Those same shadows hadn’t left your side since. You haven’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time before you did. Swirling dark tendrils aren’t exactly the most discrete thing when one is walking in broad daylight.

He had felt horrible that he hadn’t said anything when you looked at him that night. He just couldn’t bring himself to say that he was the only one who didn’t forget your day. Or the fact he had gotten you a present and hadn’t given it to you. The day after you left, he had given the present to Benny to give to you, which she did, but fulfilled his wish to not say it was from him. Already Feeling bad enough for not giving you it himself.

Walking down the cobbled streets of Valaris was something he and his brothers had done for years, though since Rhys had been crowned high lord, it was rare for them to get that time. The three of them looking for a place to maybe have lunch, or just sit and have a nice chat. Any excuse to spend just a couple more hours together. Their mates had sent them off so they could have a ‘girls’ day’ at home, which is most likely a cover to plan how to make it up to you.

A pointy elbow jabs Azriel in the ribs, pulling him out of his thoughts with a pained grunt. Glaring up at his brother, Cassian only replies with a snort. “What was that for?” Azriel grits out, hand rubbing his side.

“You’re brooding. No brooding on boys’ day.” At his words, a chuckle escapes from Rhysand who’s on Cassian’s otherside.

“I am not brooding.” Azriel grumbles. “Fine then, moping.” Cassian’s words have that same teasing tone as when they’re sparring, trying to rile him up as much as possible

Opening his mouth to growl out a retort, shining blue hair flashes from across the street at a Cafe, catching Cass’ attention. “Benny!” His booming voice yells towards her.

Head snapping in the direction that her name came from. a beaming smile stretching across her features seeing the three boys.

Before Rhys or Az can pull him back, Cassians already bounding over to her, pulling her into a hug before she could take a seat at her table. A laugh bubbles from her chest, hugging him back.

Joining them, Rhys grins at her, And Azriel gives her a nod of acknowledgement. “Long time no see. How’ve you boys been?” her smile still clear in her voice.

“We’ve been great, how about you? Are you having a late lunch all by yourself?” Rhysand’s voice has his usual charming lilt to it.

“I’ve been good too. Not alone, my friend is in the bathroom.” Azriel’s attention is pulled towards the bathroom door as if he could tell who her friend was from where he is standing. “Haven't seen you all in nearly a century. Busy with mates now I assume.” more a question than a statement.

“Yup,” Cassian enthusiastically pops the ‘p’ “you need to meet them, you’ll love them.” A loud, over exaggerated gasp gets pulled from him. “We should all go to your bar for dinner and drinks.” Beaming, likes it’s his best idea he’s ever had.

Benny’s own smile grows in response. “I'd love that. I’ll even reserve your old favourite table. Though I might have to pull two together considering how much your family’s grown.

a bark of excited laughter is pulled from Cassian. Rhys pulls him away before he can distract her from her lunch any more than he already has. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s leave you to it, and we’ll see you in a couple days?”

“I’ll save a couple tables for you.” She embraces each of them, before pulling away and waving them off, to finally sit down.

They depart with smiles and waves, then head off to find a place for them to have their lunch. Azriel can’t help but look over his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of who she’s with. Before they round a corner and are out of sight, he sees exactly who it is. You.

─

You exit the toilet and make your way over to the table Benny had chosen outside. The food and coffee you had picked now waiting for you.

As you pull your chair out, she turns her gaze back to you, a grin gracing her cerulean features. Deciding to ignore the mischievous undertones of that look, you pick up the pastry sitting in front of you and take a bite.

“We're going to be busy in a couple of days. A couple tables have been booked.” She speaks as if it’s an afterthought.

Your brows pull together at her words. “Since when did we reserve tables?” you inquire, never having heard that was a possibility for the bar. “We don't. They’re just special guests.” her voice light as she picks up her coffee, signalling that she won’t be answering any more questions.

Glancing in the direction that held her attention previously, you find nothing. whoever it was must’ve been important for Benny to change her usual routine with the bar. choosing not to dwell on it for too long, you turn back to the female in front of you, to enjoy your lunch.

─────────────────────────

a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes. I’m sorry for taking so long to post this, and i know this isn’t exactly the part two you guys wanted, but the story needs to be built up just a little bit. I promise the next part won’t take as long, and there will absolutely be more interactions with the inner circle. Thank you for your patience, I have had low energy because I’ve been quite sick, and haven’t been able to get this to a place where I want to post it. I hope you liked it anyway. <3

[targaryenluvs]

— BEST LIFE

pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)

summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?

warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋

when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.

what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.

“you’re sitting here,”

“uh-huh.”

“telling me,”

“yup.”

“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”

you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.

“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”

your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.

“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”

“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”

“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”

“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”

“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”

“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”

your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.

derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.

“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.

what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.

penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”

and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.

you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.

“and how much would he loose?”

“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”

“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”

reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.

“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?

spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.

“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”

spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”

spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.

as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?

“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.

“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”

lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.

his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.

right now, you were living your best life.

[shellshocklove]

wet nights | joel miller

pairing/AU: bfd!joel miller x female!reader – no outbreak

summary: getting beer spilled down your dress at your best friend sarah’s birthday party might not have been so bad– not when her dad can help you clean up.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 25 and joel is 47, reader is described as wearing a dress, swearing, use of pet names, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, exhibitionism, praise with a dash of degradation kink, one small touch of your clit, soft dom!joel, use of sir, cum play, no use of y/n

a/n: mom said it was my turn to write bfd!joel lol. basically this is just me wanting to write joel getting his cock and balls sucked bc it's what he deserves 😌 as always thank you to @dustydaddyyy for reading through this for me! and happy reading <3

main masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

Nodding your head to the beat of the music you gulped down a cooling sip of beer. The bar was stuffed to the brim tonight for Sarah’s birthday. Every chair and booth occupied, large groups huddled together against the walls, and a growing crowd of brave, seemingly deep enough down their drinks, dancers moved across the makeshift dance floor. Leaning against the bar right at the end, you were shielded from the continuous line of people looking for a drink to sate their thirst on this hot summer night.

You’d missed Sarah since graduation. She’d moved back to Austin to be closer to her father – a man you had still to meet even after all these years of knowing Sarah. You’d met in undergrad where you’d had a couple of overlapping classes the first year. She’d been one of those people where you’d just clicked, like a hand in a glove, you two just fit together.

Now you had moved to Austin. It wasn’t exactly planned, but you’d applied to a postgraduate program at the University of Texas, not necessarily thinking you’d get in– but then you had. Sarah had been ecstatic when you’d told her. You hadn’t seen her in person in over a year, but you couldn’t wait to live in the same city as your best friend again.

But first, her 25th birthday party.

Tonight would be your first night out as a new Austinite. Sarah had invited all her closest friends and family to her favorite bar to celebrate. You’d dreaded it a little, you weren’t gonna lie. That nagging anxiety had bubbled under your skin all week at the prospect of being the only one at the party who didn’t know anyone already. Sarah had told you not to worry though when you’d voiced your concern to her a few days ago – she’d introduce you to everyone – nothing to worry about, and she’d been right.

All Sarah’s friends had been extremely friendly and nice, and you’d been taken under their wing immediately. Quickly, your anxiety had melted away, condensing into nothing as you’d started to have a good time.

It was deep into the summer, and Austin had shown itself from its hotter side the last few days. Inside the bar everything ran hot, even with the AC on blast and with the amount of people who’d made their way inside in the last hour, looking for a good time on a Saturday night, it never stood a chance.

Trying to cool off you’d excused yourself from your new group of friends to order yourself a cold beer. One of the ACs blew cold air directly towards the bar, keeping the frantic bartenders cool as they pushed out order after order of drinks. You watched them from where you stood perfectly in the wind of the AC, glass raised to your lips when you felt a hard bump against your shoulder.

“Fuck,” you cursed as your full glass of beer spilled all down your front, staining your white summer dress.

“Shit– sorry, sweetheart.” You didn’t have time to react as your beer was lifted out of your wet hand and placed on the rough wood of the bar.

Looking up from your ruined dress you took in your beer thief as he reached across the bar for some napkins. He was older, forties maybe, maybe older if you were to take the sprinkle of salt and pepper in his hair into consideration, but he was gorgeous. A strong jaw and sculptured nose. Clad in a t-shirt and a dark pair of jeans, you thought he looked casual– not like he belonged to the rest of the birthday party. The material of his t-shirt strained against his bicep as he leaned back from over the bar – a stack of napkins now in his hand. Standing to his full height before you, you noticed just how broad he was, and it made a drop of desire pool in your core. 

The man’s previous frantic movements came to a halt as he took you in for the first time; his dark brown eyes rolling down your body and leaving a trail of heat. His fist full of napkins stalled when his eyes landed on your dress, quickly diverting them with a loud clearing of his throat.

“Um– here,” he said, voice strained as he handed you the napkins.

Pulling your eyebrows together in a frown, you looked down at yourself again. The fabric was completely soaked through, and you felt a prickling heat tickle your cheeks as you realized you now looked like a walking ad for a wet t-shirt competition.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, taking the napkins from the man as you tried your best to cover yourself.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart– bumpin’ into ya like that.”

Pressing the napkins to your dress you shook your head at him, “It’s fine– eh,” you looked up from your body.

“Joel,” he introduced himself.

“It’s fine, Joel. It was an accident. I’ll just go to the restroom and try to get the stain out,” you said with a grimace, and reached for more napkins.

“Let me help ya,” he offered as he placed a friendly hand on your elbow.

As Joel guided you through the crowd towards the toilets, hand hovering at a polite distance behind your back, he continued to apologize.

“I feel terrible– let me at least pay for it if it ends up needin’ replacin’.”

Inside the bar’s toilets, you jumped up on the stone countertop lining the wall, turning the closest sink on.

“It’s okay,” you repeated as you busied yourself with trying to clean yourself up, “This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten beer spilled all over me,” you said with a teasing laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Standing beside you with his hip leaning against the stone and a knee popped, Joel huffed out a strained laugh, a laugh somewhere between embarrassment and relief.

“Yeah?” He questioned, eyes falling to your working hands.

“Tell you this much– I’ve had plenty of wet nights.”

A sound escaped Joel at your words, one he quickly tried to cover up with a cough, and you realize your innuendo a second too late. When you looked up from your hands, eyes wide, you noticed that Joel’s cheeks had flushed slightly, like he was embarrassed that he’d even caught onto the innuendo you hadn’t meant to make. 

“Oh! No, not like that–” you rushed, tone slightly mortified as your eyes met his, trying very hard not to stutter through the rest of your sentence, “I–uh... I only meant that I uh–... I‘ve had plenty of situations in which I’ve gotten wet–” 

At this sentence, Joel raised his eyebrows in a look that seemed half-surprised, half-amused, and your stomach dropped even further into your ass in embarrassment. 

“–with water!” you clarified quickly, before you scrunched up your nose in embarrassment, closing your eyes as you huffed out a laughing sigh, “There’s no way I’m getting out of this gracefully, is there?” 

You heard Joel’s chuckle to your side, deep and syrupy, like the stuff you’d liked to pour over your pancakes in buckets when you were a kid.

“You’d have gotten away with it if you hadn’t started explainin’, I think,” Joel told you, his tone joking, and you chuckled bashfully, nodding before you looked up at him. 

There was a moment in which you exchanged a look, before you felt the smile break over your face and you dissolved into embarrassed laughter, shaking your head as Joel laughed, too. 

“Off to a great start,” you muttered in between chuckles, “First week in Austin and I’m already making passes at handsome strangers in bar bathrooms.” 

“I never said I was complainin’,” Joel said jokingly, and you let out a chuckle, “First week in Austin, hm?” 

“Yeah,” you said with a nod, “Here for a postgrad.” 

“Smart and beautiful,” he mused, “Reckon I should spill beers more often if this is what I get in return.” 

Delicate wings fluttered in your tummy at his words as a feeling of excitement filled your chest. Looking up at him with a raised teasing eyebrow you said, “Not sure spilling beer on someone is the tried and tested formula.”  

“Well, that depends, really,” Joel answered back in a teasingly contemplating voice, “‘s it workin’ on you?” 

Your stomach dropped slightly at his words, and when your eyes moved to meet his, he was looking at you with a look that made your insides burn. 

“Maybe,” you told him with a teasing smile pulling at the corners of your mouth. 

You were never usually this bold, but there was something in the way he was looking at you and the syrup-y tone of his voice. You could tell he knew what he was doing, knew exactly what to say, and you wanted more. Biting down on your bottom lip coquettishly, you leaned backwards on your arms, giving Joel a full view of the soaked front of your dress, and more specifically, everything he could see underneath. 

“And what works on you, Joel?” 

You watched with some satisfaction as Joel's eyes ran over the length of your chest, before he quickly redirected them to your eyes.

“You’re making it very hard to be a gentleman here, sweetheart,” he almost whispered, his eyes as dark as the Austin summer night sky. You gave a noncommitted shrug as a teasing smile tugged at your lips. Then, you leaned forward so that you were closer to him, feet dangling slightly.

“I never asked you to be,” you told him, your voice low but not quite a whisper as you looked up at him through your lashes. 

Behind your rib cage your heart quickened with excitement as Joel’s darkening gaze bored into yours, and you knew you him right where you wanted him. His eyes danced over your face for a moment, before they flickered down to your lips. It almost made you stop breathing for a second, the tension in the air between you so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was just something about this man, something about Joel – and in this moment you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone before. 

Maybe it should’ve scared you, the speed at which you’d fallen under his spell (or was it the other way around?), but right now, with Joel’s darkening eyes staring into yours, you couldn't bring yourself to feel any fear. You could only look at him, could only feel his breath fanning over your lips and the intensity of his gaze on your face.

“You’re trouble, aren’t ya?” Joel’s voice was low, not quite a whisper, but full of deep bass. 

You felt the expanse of his hand fall on your bare knee, rough and calloused over where your sundress had ridden up. 

“Nothing you can’t handle.” You batted your eyelashes semi-innocently, spreading your thighs slightly, which made Joel’s mouth twitch in amusement. 

“’s that so, darlin’?” He asked, taking his place between your legs, your face now only inches from his as he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Mhm,” you nodded slightly, your hand falling over his to guide it slowly up your thigh, “Don’t you wanna find out?”

As Joel’s index finger made contact with the side seam of your underwear, he closed the space between you and pressed his lips against yours. The hairs of his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow as he dove deeper, lips rolling over yours. You sat up slightly when his other hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your core rubbing up against his growing bulge. You whimpered against his lips at the contact, and Joel inhaled it, consuming every breathy moan and whimper.

His hand slid slowly downwards to your ass where he gave it a nice squeeze, pulling you even closer when your legs came up to wrap around his waist. He licked at your lower lip hungrily, and you opened yourself up to him to allow him to deepen the kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. He was a great kisser, probably the best you’d kissed. His lips moved expertly over yours, soft and firm at the same time as he guided you through it.

The grip on your ass tightened again and soon you were half-way to hanging off the counter as he rocked his front steadily against your core, where your arousal had started to pool. The kisses turned needier then, shorter and desperate between quiet whines. You could feel the shape of him against you, hard and thick, and big. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you as you imagined yourself on your knees before him, the weight and taste of him on your tongue. He was so fucking hot, and you wanted him so fucking badly.

“Can I suck your cock?” you panted through frantic kisses.

Joel pulled back slightly, head tipped back to find your eyes. 

“You wanna suck my cock?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. You only nodded, head tipping slowly with the bite of your lip.

Joel tsk-ed, “Dirty girl,” he said and rocked his hard bulge against your core, which earned him a moan. It made a wicked grin spread across his face, like he’d just proved a point.

His hands left your body as he slowly stepped backwards – that same cocky grin adorning his features as he nodded towards one of the stalls. Jumping off the countertop, you almost tripped over your feet to follow him inside.

“Relax, baby– ain’t no need to get on your knees until after we’re inside,” he teased, holding the door open for you, bicep bulging against the fabric of his t-shirt. Fuck, he looked so hot.

“Ha-ha,” you fake-laughed at him with a teasing roll of your eyes as you stepped past him and into the bathroom stall. When the door clicked behind him, followed by the unmistakable sound of the lock turning, you felt a pair of strong hands land on your hips as he pressed his body against your back.

“I’m only teasin’,” he reassured you in your ear, his breath fanning over the shell and sending a tingle down your spine. Turning around in his hold, your own teasing smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah?” you queried with the raise of an eyebrow, “Well two can play that game, sir” you teased as you slowly sunk to your knees, missing the way Joel reacted to the title you’d assigned him.

From above Joel watched you, body relaxed and composed like he wasn’t about to get his dick sucked, but the lust in his eyes gave him away. Your teeth caught on your bottom lip as you fumbled with his belt, the sound of metal clinking bouncing off the tiles as you focused on popping the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. You couldn’t take your eyes off the shape of him hidden behind the denim, and it made your mouth water, your thighs squeezing together. You were mesmerized as you let your pointer finger run over the covered length of him, the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs soft under your fingertips.

For a moment, you couldn’t believe what you were about to do – suck a man you’d just met less than an hour ago off in the bathroom stall of some dingy bar? But then again, something excited you about it. 

Maybe it was Joel? Or maybe it was the thrill of it all– of maybe getting caught?

“Go on, darlin’, it’s okay– be a good girl n’ take it out f’me,” Joel ordered from above, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, caught the way he studied you, gauging your every move and reaction.

Then something shifted in his eyes, a flash of insecurity making its presence known, “Or don’t– we can stop f’you want– if you ain’t feelin’ it anymore.”

You shook your head before he’d even finished his sentence. God, no! You sure as hell didn’t want to stop.

“I wanna keep going, Joel,” you smiled, your fingers hooking into the elastic band of his boxer briefs.

A genuine smile bloomed across his face then, his rough hand coming down to cup your chin, “That’s good, baby,” he said, swiping his thumb slowly over your skin, before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Know you’ll be good f’me, won’t you?” he whispered against your lips, drawing a breathy whine from you at the praise.

“Yes,” you sighed, almost breathless as he kissed you again quickly before he murmured against your lips, “Yes, you will, darlin’– you’re gonna choke on my cock ‘n thank me for it, won’t ya?”

He was driving you mad with all these questions. In just a few minutes, this man had turned you inside out, pushed every button to turn you on– you were practically swimming in your panties, your mind clouded in hazy arousal. 

You didn’t know what to do, and not thinking clearly, you chased his lips.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel chuckled, pulling away slightly, “lemme hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you sighed again, “thank you for giving me your cock.”

“Thank you for giving me your cock, what?”

This manwas relentless.

“Thank you for giving me your cock, sir?” you tried, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

Pleased, a satisfied grin pulled at Joel’s lips. He rewarded you with a quick kiss before he pulled away, standing to his full height again.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to touch him. Hooking your fingers into the elastic band of his boxer briefs again, you slowly pulled them down, revealing inch by inch of the base of his fat cock.

He was big, and the sight made your mouth water, but what excited you the most was the weight of his heavy balls.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes wide with fascination.

His hand found the back of your neck in a grounding hold as he guided you closer, your lips bumping against his tip. “Give it a kiss, baby… just like that,” he praised as you did exactly what he wanted, placing a kiss to his cock the same way you’d kissed his lips.

Over you, you could hear Joel release a content breathy chuckle, “That’s so good, baby, such a good girl.”

Egged on by his praises, you shifted a little on your knees, steadying your hands on his thighs as you pooled a blob of spit in your mouth that you let drip down the head. Joel watched you intensely as you used your dominant hand to slowly work the spit over his length, earning yourself a strained grunt. He grew even harder in your hand as you familiarized yourself with the weight and size of him in your hand. 

“Wanna taste it, sir,” you said and placed another soft kiss to the head, swiping your tongue over the slit to taste the precum that had started to pearl.

“Yeah?” he taunted, almost degrading, “You wanna taste my cock that badly?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, looking up at him through your lashes.

Joel watched you for a beat before he tapped at the hand wrapped around him, shooing it away as he fisted himself. “Open wide then, honey, ‘f you want it that bad,” he said, slapping his cock against the side of your face.

Your mouth dropped open in an instance as Joel stuffed his cock inside your mouth slowly. You opened up as wide as you possibly could, relaxing your jaw to accommodate the size of him in your mouth. It was a wide stretch, and the tip touched the back of your throat far too soon, making you gag around the head.

He pulled back to let you breathe for a moment, before he sunk back down your throat again, a large and grounding hand resting at the back of your head. The second time you were more prepared to take him, holding him in your throat for a few moments longer before you started to gag. Over you, Joel let out a strained grunt; the noise sending a bolt of arousal straight to your core.

After that, Joel let you take the lead.

You started out slow, taking the head into your mouth as you let your spit-covered fingers glide over his shaft in an experimental tug. Under your fist, a slick sound echoed off the tiles with every jerk of his cock. You made sure his cock was thoroughly coated in your spit as you set a steady rhythm. You let your tongue glide over the underside of his tip, his hips bucking when you dipped your tongue into the slit.

It was sloppy, and wet, and the noises coming from your throat were entirely too obscene as you started bobbing your head, taking him down your throat.

“That’s a good girl,” Joel praised you, helping guide his cock down your throat with the hand resting at the back of your head. “You love suckin’ cock, don’t you? Love havin’ a big cock fill up that tight throat?”

Suddenly, you heard the muted music coming from the bar grow louder before dying again at the sound of the door slamming shut. You stilled your movements in panic as you heard someone slip into the stall to your right. Your eyes met Joel as you slipped his cock out your mouth, but to your surprise he looked far from concerned about the new audience. 

Stretching his neck he turned his head in the direction of the occupied stall, while he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock. Even in his hands it looked big, and you started to wonder how you’d ever managed to fit it down your throat. A beat passed before he turned his head to look at you again, a wicked grin coating his lips as he bobbed his cock in your face, rubbing the head over your closed lips before he slapped it lightly against your cheek.

“Open up,” he mouthed with another light slap to your cheek. His actions made a tingle of arousal spread throughout your body, and you realized in shock how much the thought of getting caught turned you on.

You did as Joel said and opened your mouth for him to feed you his cock again. He watched you very closely this time, letting you ease yourself down his cock at your own pace, trying your best to be quiet. When the very tip of your nose made contact with the thatch of coarse dark hair at the base and your lips were snug around his cock, Joel couldn’t help himself. The grounding hand at the back of your head held you down as he shoved himself as deep as he possibly could down your throat, his balls bouncing against your chin at the movement.

To your right you heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet being flushed and a lock being twisted. Your eyes welled up with tears, your vision fogging over as you tried your best to fight against your gag reflex. Over you, Joel watched you with a proud smirk on his lips. When the sound of the sink turning on echoed through the restroom, you allowed a whimpering gag to escape you as you squeezed your eyes shut.

It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did, but the thrill of getting caught choking on an older man’s cock, a man who was essentially a stranger, made you wonder if you could come untouched. You were so close already, just a flick of your clit would send you off the edge of bliss.

Your eyes were about to roll back into your head when Joel finally pulled back. You gasped violently for air at the exact moment the door opened, filling the toilets with loud music for a moment before you and Joel were locked away again in your own little world. Like you were on autopilot, your hand slipped between your thighs to find your clit, and soon you were withering with your orgasm.

“Oh, there you go, honey, come all over those fingers f’me, just like that,” you heard Joel say, though the force of your orgasm made it seem like he was far away, like your ears were filled with cotton.

When you finally calmed down, you steadied yourself with a tug at Joel’s jeans – the fabric rough under your fingertips. Over you Joel fisted his cock as he watched you with a wild look in his eyes.

“Goddamn, baby, you’re so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that just from gettin’ your throat fucked.”

“Thank you, sir,” you managed to let out, your voice strained and hoarse.

Realizing he must’ve been close, you sat up straighter on your knees, ready to pull him off the edge too. Leaning forward, you stuck out your tongue, licking a fat strip up the seam of his balls to the underside of his shaft. His cock jumped in his hand as Joel let out a breathy laugh.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, “Look me in the eyes honey– look me in the eyes when you lick my balls.” Joel jerked his cock above your face as you continued to lick at his heavy balls – your eyes locked with his.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he choked out through groans, “Suck on ‘em, baby, suck on my balls.”

Blinking up at him you tried your best to fit one of them in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking greedily and lapping at the skin, before you moved on to treat the other with the same amount of love.

Joel’s mouth dropped open in a gape, his breath coming out quicker and more staggered. He squeezed himself harder at the base with each jerk before skating his thumb over the swollen head, massaging it. 

“Fuck,” he panted, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna fuckin’ come.”

Popping his balls from your mouth you hurriedly sat up in front of him, the tip off his cock brushing over the plump of your bottom lip with every thug of his cock.

“Please, sir,” you begged, “Please, come in my mouth.”

Joel wasn’t one to deny your request, especially not when you were sat so pretty in front of him with your tongue sticking out.

A second later, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth and came – balls drawn tight as he shot his load down your throat. The force of it made you gag a little at first, the restriction around his sensitive cock only making him come harder. He groaned above you as you sucked him dry, before he pulled back when it was too much, and caught his breath.

“Say Ah,” he said, a gentle but firm hand cupping your jaw. The squeeze of his fingers made your mouth drop open to reveal the cum coated on your tongue and where it pooled at the back of your throat. “Don’t swallow– Let me see, darlin’.”

Your smile fought against his grip. Sticking your tongue out the best you could, you let him see the state he’d left you in; chin coated in saliva, tears starting to dry on your cheeks, mouth puffy and fucked, and marked in this stranger’s cum.

“Pretty as a picture,” he tutted before he let go of your jaw, and with a pat to your cheek finally gave you permission to swallow.

After that it was like the spell had broken between you. Joel helped you to your feet, both of you giggling when your legs wobbled like a foal unsteady on its feet. He held you upright with a strong hand to your waist, while the other one traveled up the length of your body to cup your face, and bring it closer to place a slow and sensual kiss to your lips.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’d never done anything like that before?” You asked him a moment later as he helped you clean your face by the sink.

Joel gave you a look in the mirror.

“You don’t?” you exclaimed.

Joel gave you an infuriatingly casual shrug, “It ain’t your first time suckin’ dick that’s for sure,” he teased with a pinch to your side which made you jump.

Giving him a playful shove, you said, “I’m not lying! I’ve never had a one-night stand.”

“Well, the night’s still young,” Joel joked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and dipping his head to place a soft kiss to the column of your neck.

You leaned into his touch, feeling the soft grip of his hands on your body, and the soft presses of his kisses as you watched the two of you in the mirror. You found that you liked the reflection looking back at you, and if you were lucky, you hoped he liked it too; maybe enough to want to see you again.

“I can’t go back out there like this,” you said after a moment.

Your dress had finally dried, but so had the beer – staining it yellow.

Joel lifted his head from your neck to rest his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scanned your body in the mirror. 

“I have a flannel in my truck I can borrow you?”

“More layers in this heat?” you questioned, already sweating at the thought.

A wide grin spread across Joel’s face, full of mischief, “I guess I’ll just have to take ‘em off of you later, then.”

Turning around in his hold, you wrapped your hands around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair curling at his neck as you met his eyes. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” you whispered, painfully aware of the wet stain of arousal soiling your panties and sticking to your cunt.

“No, it doesn’t,” Joel hummed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. 

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked and brushed your lips over his.

A moment later Joel guided you out the restrooms with a protective hand resting at the small of your back. Weaving through the crowd, you’d made your way almost to the exit when you heard a shout of your name over the music.

“There you are!” Sarah shouted again as she moved through the crowd towards you and Joel, arms reached out to the sky.

“Oh! And you’ve finally met my dad!”

i hope this was okay and that someone liked this? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[moonstruckme]

hello mae baby please may you write a fic with anyone u like with a reader who is really drunk and the other person is taking care of her and she thinks she is annoying and they ar like why would u think that i love looking after u and some tenderness maybe with mauruaders but actually with whoever you’d like mae u are so nice and lovely and kind bye bye’!!!!

Hi lovely, thank you so much for requesting!

cw: alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You know Remus is reading when you get home, because he doesn’t call for you and you are not quiet as you come inside. You drop your keys while trying to hang them on the hook, your bag bounces off the chair you toss it onto and falls noisily onto the floor, and your body lists as you walk towards your bedroom so that you bump your shoulder into the wall not once but twice. Your entry is a series of clatters and crashes and clunks, and yet when you make it to the bedroom your boyfriend’s attention is glued to his book as though by hypnosis. 

“Hi.” The word curves with the smile that takes you, tilting upwards. Remus looks up. 

“Hi, dovey.” He blinks foggily, taking you in with your hip leaned against the doorjamb and your ankles crossed awkwardly. “How was book club?” 

You feel your smile widen with delight. “It was great,” you profess. You aim for him, and Remus takes his book in one hand, holding the other out like he means to catch you. You land on the edge of the bed on your stomach, your feet dangling just above the floor behind you. “Everyone loved my banana bread.” 

“A show of good judgment,” Remus hums. He reaches behind you, helping you get your shoe off. “Is there any left?” 

One shoe comes free, and you let your foot fall back. “Mm, there was, but I left it for Maria.” 

Remus stops messing with your other shoe to look at you disappointedly. 

“I know, but she hosted! I had to be nice. I’ll make you another one soon.” 

He sighs, but it’s for show. Your other shoe slides off. “Fine, I suppose since she hosted.” 

“I knew you’d get it.” You pull your legs onto the bed and sit up, grinning at your boyfriend. He likes to play at selfishness, but you know he’d have done the same. Even if you’d asked, he would have told you to leave the bread. And he breaks easily now, returning your smile with one of his own. It feels like a warm tide rushing over you. 

“Oh. I feel like I should also warn you, I had quite a bit of wine.” 

Remus’ tongue presses into his cheek, a sort of outward-poking dimple. “Did you?”

“A little,” you say coyly, looking at him through your lashes. “It was sparkling and really yummy, what was I supposed to do?” 

“A valid point.” 

“So that’s just your warning. You’ve been warned.” 

“I will proceed with caution,” he assures you, a warmth to his voice. “What did everyone think of the book?”

“Oh.” You raise your eyebrows at him excitedly. “There was controversy. Big controversy. I super loved it, but a lot of other people thought it was the worst one she’d done so far!” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. They made some valid points, but I don’t know, maybe I’m easy to please, but I didn’t care about any of that stuff as much as I cared that I’d had a good time reading it, you know? And then everyone was giving their rankings of her books, and there were just some really crazy choices. Some people thought her second one was the best!” 

“No.” Remus manages to look upset for your sake, though he’s only heard about the books from you. “Did they really?” 

Your smile blooms anew at his enthusiasm, and you feel, suddenly urgently, that you’re not close enough to him. You move into his lap, but that’s not good enough either. At this point, Remus is looking at you with a fond, bemused sort of intrigue. You must be predictable enough, because only a soft puff of laughter exhales him when you start to worm your way under his sweater. 

It’s warm. You consider, for a moment, simply staying in there, with Remus’ chest and his smell and the sound of your own breathing, but ultimately decide you’d like to see him, too. You’d miss him too much. 

“Hello,” he says, not unhappily, as you break the surface of his neckline.

“Hi,” you say back. 

“To what do I owe this visit?” 

You shrug. It’s an odd movement, one of your shoulders stretching his sweater while the other bumps against his chest. “I wanted to be with you. It’s quite nice in here.” 

Remus only hums, tilting his head down to kiss your nose. It’s a slow, fond kiss, like he’s just decided to rest his lips there for a moment or two. It sends pleasant warm tingles from your face all the way down to your fingertips. 

“What else did you talk about?” he asks. 

“Hm?” 

“In book club.” 

“Oh. Well, not everyone there had read her other books, so we had to sort of get into the patterns and the things she always does. Some of it was routine for us, but totally unexpected for them, which makes sense I guess because…” 

You go on in circles and loops that even you can’t keep track of, your mind lax and happy and your lips moving seemingly on autopilot. You talk about the book itself and the people you read it with, and about the girl who’d hosted and how she’d had the cutest dog you’d ever seen, and does Remus remember that time you went to the animal shelter and saw that adorable puppy? Well, you mean no offense to the puppy because he was very cute, but this girl’s dog is even cuter than that. 

It’s an incalculable stretch of time later that you realize Remus has put down his book. 

“Oh, my god.” You lean your forehead on his shoulder. When you close your eyes, you feel like you’re floating. You really must be worse than you thought. “I’m so sorry. You were trying to read.” 

“Before you got home, yeah,” says Remus, his tone indulgent, “but now I’m talking to you.” 

“Yeah, because I won’t shut up because I’m all drunk,” you lament. “I know how annoying that is.” 

“Hey.” Your boyfriend’s voice is tender. “Who said anything about that? I’m not annoyed.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, sweetheart. Why would you assume that I was? I love talking to you.” 

You try to look up at him, and your nose bumps his chin violently. “Oh.” You try to draw back, but there’s nowhere to go. You’re confined to the neckline of Remus’ sweater. One of your hands snakes up to touch clumsily at his chin. “Shit, I’m sorry.” 

Remus tsks, his own hands coming on either side of your face to hold you still. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. Are you?” He runs a thumb gingerly over the bridge of your nose. 

It’ll probably bruise a little tomorrow, but that’s not something you’re going to tell him tonight. “Yeah,” you say meekly. “Thanks for dealing with me. It’s really nice of you.” 

“Oh, don’t,” he shushes you, pressing another gentle kiss to your nose. “I’m not being nice, sweetheart. And you’re not something to be dealt with. I love looking after you; it doesn’t cost me anything to do it.” 

You try to shrink down inside his sweater, and Remus tsks. 

“Tell me this, if I was blackout and legless, would you mind chatting with me and taking care of me?” 

“I’m not blackout drunk, Rem.” 

“For argument’s sake, let’s say.” 

You press your lips together, not wanting to concede the argument but your answer categorical. “No.” 

“Right, because you’ve done it before.” Remus looks at you with equal parts kindness and knowingness. “And were you annoyed with me then?” 

You’re almost offended he’d ask. “Of course not.” 

“I see.” His tongue pokes into his cheek again, lips quirking slightly. “Seems like that sort of thing might go both ways, no?” 

You push your face into his neck and sigh hard into his skin, making a little sound bubble up in his chest that sounds suspiciously giggle-esque. 

“You don’t always have to be right, you know.” 

“I usually am, though.” He wraps his arms around his own front, giving you a squeeze. “Best settle into that fact, dovey. It’ll make things much more efficient for us both.” 

[prinvessdior]

Three times you ask Kinich for something and the one time he asks for something.

tags: first person soz, bff! Mualani, I forgot ab Ajaw lol, y/n has a vision, established relationship, first kiss, just cute as hell, ft. me trying to write romantic tension.

wc: 3.6k

a/n: idk,, i think he needs more fics but yes crossposted on ao3 still editing as well

feel free to leave me req or msgs for any charc <3!

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I think this was the fifth time I had water up my nose this afternoon. Or maybe it was the sixth, definitely. My nose and throat burned as I gasped for air above the water. My surfboard flung up beside me with another slap of water to my face. I hoisted myself back up to sit over my borrowed board. Mualani let me borrow one of her old ones from childhood. Since I'd never been able to surf. I wrung out my hair over my shoulder. "This is so hard," I whined to Mualani who padded over on her own board over to me.

Mualani only laughed, laying down on her stomach, "You're doing fine for a beginner." I doubted it. "Keep practicing, maybe you could finally convince Kinich to come to swim." 

I snorted and rolled my eyes, "Yeah like that'll happen."  

Mualani giggled, "He's a lost cause. Maybe if you asked him nicely, he might change his mind," she teased, sending me a look with a knowing smile. 

"I don't think a simple 'please' will do the trick," I retorted, paddling my board backward in the shallows. "He'd probably just come up with some excuse like 'I don't want to get my clothes wet' or something, and then go back to what he was doing," I grumbled.

Mualani snickered. "He can be such a diva sometimes. It's like he's scared to have any fun. I don’t know how you can date a guy like that."

She was being dramatic. He wasn’t that bad. I’ve known practically everyone since I was a kid, I know the ins and outs. Kinich just.. more so liked to keep to himself. I didn’t mind it though it really seemed like we had just become really good friends now even after putting a relationship title on us. 

"Though I'm sure he'd do anything you asked," Mualani says with a nod

I quickly looked away.

"Don't be ridiculous," I mumbled, "Kinich doesn't listen to anyone, let alone me." I quickly looked away.

Mualani gave me a knowing smile. "Oh come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed the way he looks at you. That boy is absolutely smitten with you."

I tried to feign indifference, though my heart thumped in my chest. "He doesn't look at me any differently than he looks at everyone else."

Mualani raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious? He's practically drooling every time you're around. And he always insists on helping you with anything you need, no matter how menial."

I shifted uncomfortably in my waterlogged swimsuit. "That's just who he is. He's like that with everyone. He's just...a good guy." I don’t think I wanted to spill my guts with my best friend about my relationship just yet.

Mualani rolled her eyes. "You can be so clueless sometimes. Trust me on this."

I huffed, pushing my soaked hair out of my eyes. "Even if you're right, which you're not, I doubt he'd ever actually do anything about it. Kinich is too aloof to make a move."

Mualani smirked. "That's where I think you're wrong. I've seen the way he stares at you when you're not looking. That boy has it bad. If you ask me, he's just been waiting for the right moment.”

I narrowed my eyes with a laugh, "Sure, and dendro slimes will fly someday. Besides, I can't even imagine Kinich acting all romantic. He's too sarcastic and quippy for mushiness."

Mualani shrugged. "Maybe you should try giving him a hint then. See if he responds. I know he'd be all over you in a heartbeat if he thought he had a chance."

"I don't know, Mualani...he's always been so closed off. It wouldn’t feel natural."

Mualani grinned. "Well, you could always try being a bit more... flirtatious. Give him some nonverbal cues to let him know you're interested. A touch on the arm, a smile, a compliment, something like that. See how he responds."

"Yeah, nope," I said with a determined nod, I'd give up my pyro vision back to our archon before doing something as embarrassing as that.

“C'mon! What’s the harm in it?”

I gave Mualani a pointed look, “The harm is we’ve only been together three months.” 

Mualani groaned, “But you’ve been friends for years!” She emphasized by splashing me with water.

I splashed her back, “I don’t expect anything from Kinich, Lani, I’m fine with what we have now.” 

“Yeah, but, did you ask him that? Maybe he wants to be closer with you.” 

Okay, yeah maybe I hadn’t thought about that. I paused mid-splash attack. “Oh.” 

Another splash of water to my face, as I tipped sideways losing balance sitting on my surfboard. I tipped straight into the water making another splash for the seventh time. 

Mualani was laughing when I arose from the surface. “Just try it. It’s not like he’ll outright reject you.” 

I gave Mualani a glare, “I’m going to go change. I’m done learning today.” 

“Ouchie, you really know how to burn me.” Mualani sighs with a dramatic expression. 

“Insanity.” I mumbled padding back to the shore with my best friend trailing behind me. Still making dramatic plans about how to get my boyfriend to be more open. I was not listening as she rambled all the way back to my house. 

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I liked living right beside the hot springs. Even the ones that weren’t heated were usually the ones I gravitated towards. Given that Natlan was already hot, I never remembered my normal body temperature being this hot before I received my Pyro vision. 

But right now, I think I was jealous of Cyro Vision users. Kachina had requested my help near her tribe. She wanted to collect flowers among herbs, and fruits for the traveler to help her gain enough confidence to enter into the night warden wars. 

But it was too hot, and I was craving a bath. Being drenched in sweat was horrible. I didn’t want to complain in front of Kachina so I continued to follow her, we’d strayed far from The Children of The Echo’s tribe. 

“Do you think this is enough?” I asked the smaller girl once we’d stopped near a stream. 

“Uh-! I-.. I think so!” Kachina reached her arms up to take the fruits nestled in my bag. I happily let her take it as I took a seat near the stream for a much-needed breather. 

“Great, I’m just gonna.. sit down for a while.” 

Kachina gave me a nod with a bright smile. Which in turn made me smile. I felt like a big sister whenever I was with Kachina. It made it better that she was so smart and easy to talk to. I closed my eyes as a gust of wind helped cool my sweltering face. 

Kachina sat down beside me, dipping her toes into the water. “Thank you for helping me today, I really appreciate it.”

I smiled, grateful for the respite. “Of course, Kachina. It’s the least I can do. The Traveler did so much for you.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, they really did. I wouldn’t have had the courage to join the Night Warden Wars without their support.”

We sat by the stream, the cool water lapping at my feet, and my mind drifted back to what Mualani had said the day before. Could it really be that simple? Just say please? I found myself lost in a whirlwind of emotions as the cool water of the stream rippled around me. 

“Y/n? Y/n!” Kachina’s voice broke through my reverie, pulling me back to the present.

”Huh.” I blinked, realizing she was talking to someone. I turned to see Kinich standing there, looking a bit awkward but smiling warmly. 

“Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, his voice a little uncertain. “Are you okay?”

I forced a smile, trying to shake off my embarrassment. “Oh, hey, Kinich. Yeah, I’m fine. Just, you know, dying of the heat,” I joked, fanning myself dramatically.

He chuckled, his eyes softening. “Yeah, it’s pretty brutal today.” He turned to me and narrowed his eyes. “Should you really be out here for much longer? You don’t look so good.”

Before I could respond, Kachina’s face fell, and she quickly apologized. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you weren’t feeling well. I shouldn’t have taken you so far.”

I shook my head, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Kachina. I wanted to come out and help you. Really.”

She still looked worried, but I could see she was trying to believe me. I took a deep breath, deciding albeit hesitantly that if I were to test Mualani’s theory. Any time would be the best time “Kinich, could you please get me some water from the stream? I think it would help me cool down.”

To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate. Without a single sarcastic comment or playful tease, he nodded and walked over to the stream. The next thing I felt was the cool, wet rag on my forehead, and sighed in relief. Kinich's gentle touch was comforting as he helped me sit back down. My body was still cooling off from Natlan’s scorching heat.

"Thank you, Kinich," I said, looking up at him with a small smile.

He smiled back, though it was more a twitch of lips upwards, his eyes warm. "It was no problem at all. Just take it easy for a bit."

I nodded, leaning back into the grass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kachina watching us. She seemed to be trying hard not to look awkward, and I couldn't help but find it endearing.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" Kachina asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "Just a bit... overwhelmed, I guess."

Kachina nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "You two are really cute together," she blurted out, then immediately looked like she regretted it.

Kinich chuckled softly, and I felt my own cheeks flush. "Thanks, Kachina," I said, trying to ease her embarrassment. 

She smiled, looking a bit more relaxed. "Well, if you need anything, I'm here to help."

"Thanks," I said, appreciating her kindness. "I think I'll be okay now."

Kinich gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Just rest for a bit. I'll be right here."

I nodded, feeling a little lightheaded. Not from the heat though. As I leaned back, feeling the coolness of the rag on my forehead, my mind wandered to Mualani’s words. Maybe she was right.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

A couple of days later, I found myself in Xilonen’s shop, surrounded by shelves filled with various trinkets and artifacts. The air was filled with the scent of herbs and old parchment, a comforting reminder of the past. Xilonen and I were busy organizing her shop, a task that felt both familiar and soothing.

“Thanks for helping out, Y/n,” Xilonen said, her voice warm. “I’ve been meaning to get this place in order for ages.”

“No problem,” I replied, placing a stack of scrolls on a nearby shelf. “It’s nice to catch up. We haven’t had much time together since the war ended.”

She nodded a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Yeah, things have been so hectic. But it’s good to see you. How have you been holding up?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my tone light. “I’ve been okay. Just trying to figure things out, you know?”

Xilonen smiled knowingly. “I get it. It’s been a strange time for all of us. But I’m glad you’re here. It feels like old times.”

We continued to work in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythm of our movements almost meditative. As we sorted through a box of ancient artifacts, Xilonen suddenly looked up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So, I heard a little rumor that you and Kinich are dating now. Is it true?” Probably from Mualani...

I felt my face heat up slightly but nodded. “Yeah, it’s true.”

Xilonen grinned. “I knew it! How’s that going? I mean, considering how Kinich… is.”

I chuckled, understanding what she meant. “It’s going fine, actually. He’s been really sweet and supportive. It’s still new, but we’re figuring it out.”

She nodded, her expression softening. “That’s good to hear. Kinich can be ahh.. how do I put this? Blunt? but he has a good heart.”

“Yeah, he does,” I agreed, feeling a warm glow at the thought of him. “He’s been really great.”

we continued to clean, the door to the shop opened, and Kinich walked in. His eyes immediately found mine, and he smiled warmly Again, just the hint of his lips turning at the corners. “Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, then turned to Xilonen. “Xilonen.”

“Hey, Kinich,” I replied, feeling a flutter of happiness at seeing him.

Xilonen gave him a playful look. “Didn’t expect to see Y/n here, huh?”

Kinich chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, I was a bit surprised. What’s going on?”

Xilonen rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, so I can’t see my friend for a day? I asked Y/n to help me clean up since it’s been a while.”

Kinich nodded, looking a bit awkward. “Right, of course. Well, it’s good you both are here. I actually came by to let you know that someone from The Children of the Echos commissioned me for a project, so I don’t have much time to chat.”

“That’s great, What kind of project?” genuinely wanting to know

He shrugged, a small smile on his face. “It’s a bit of a mystery for now, but I’ll fill you in later.”

Xilonen smirked. “Always keeping secrets, huh?”

Kinich laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. I’ll catch up with you both later.”

It was the perfect time to test Mualani's theory further. I spotted an item on a high shelf that I couldn't reach and decided to ask Kinich for help.

"Kinich, could you please help me get that down?" I called out, pointing to a random scroll.

He stopped talking to Xilonen almost instantly and came up behind me. "Sure, what do you need?" he asked, his voice so, so close to my ear.

I pointed at the scroll again. "That one, right up there."

Without hesitation, Kinich reached over my head and grabbed it, his arm brushing against mine. He handed it to me with a smile. "Here you go."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a bit flustered by how quickly he had responded.

"No problem," he replied. "I have to go now, but I'll see you later." He turned to Xilonen and me, giving us both a quick nod. "Goodbye, Xilonen. Bye, Y/n."

"Bye, Kinich," we both said in unison as he left the shop.

As the door closed behind him, Xilonen turned to me with a curious look. "What was that? I've never seen Kinich act like that before."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know. Maybe he's just being extra helpful today."

Xilonen raised an eyebrow. "Extra helpful, huh? Well, whatever it is, it's definitely interesting."

I smiled,  Maybe Mualani was onto something after all.

“I should get going too,” I said, giving Xilonen a hug. “Thanks for today. It was really nice to catch up.”

"Oh yeah totally! I can handle the rest here. Also, come by anytime,” she replied, hugging me back. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t,” I promised, smiling as I headed out the door.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I found myself back at Mualani’s place, surfboard in hand and ready for another lesson. Mualani was determined to teach me how to surf, and I was equally determined to make her proud, even if it meant a few more wipeouts.

“Hey, ‘Lani!” I greeted her, adjusting my swimsuit as I approached. “Ready for another round?”

Mualani grinned, her eyes always sparkling with excitement. “Always! But first, tell me have you been messing with Kinich? He’s been super quiet. More than usual.”

I laughed, setting my surfboard down. “Really? That’s funny. I’ve been testing your theory. It’s been interesting, to say the least. I really don’t think he’s reacting. He’s doing things any normal boyfriend would do.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “You absolutely need to keep it up. Yesterday he looked like he was going to explode.”

I snorted a laugh Mualani clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough talk. Let’s hit the waves!”We headed down to the beach, the sound of the ocean filling the air.

As we paddled out, Mualani and I chatted about everything and nothing, enjoying the easy flow of conversation. Suddenly, someone from the tribe called out to Mualani, needing her assistance with something urgent.

Mualani sighed, giving me an apologetic look. “Duty calls. Just focus on balancing on the board for now, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Got it!” I called, watching as she paddled back to the shore.

Left to my own devices, I paddled out to the shallow part of the water. I stood up on the board, feeling the gentle sway of the ocean beneath me. Balancing was tricky, but I was determined to get the hang of it. I took a deep breath, focusing on keeping my stance steady.

The sun was warm on my skin, and the sound of the waves was soothing.

My balance wavered, and I tumbled into the water with a splash. As I surfaced, sputtering and wiping the saltwater from my eyes, I heard a familiar voice.

"Having trouble there?" Kinich asked, a teasing smile on his face.

I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "Maybe just a little," I admitted, trying to laugh it off.

He chuckled, wading over to me. "Here, let me help you." He reached out, steadying me as I stood up in the water. His hands were firm but gentle, and I felt a bit more stable with his support.

"Thanks," I mumbled reeling from the taste of saltwater, feeling self-consciousness.

"No problem," he replied, still holding my surfboard, "Everyone falls sometimes. It's part of the learning process."

I nodded, appreciating his encouragement. "Yeah, I guess so."

He handed me the board, his eyes warm with amusement. "Just keep at it. You'll get the hang of it."

The sun glinted off the water as I turned towards Kinich, curiosity, and anxiety bubbling with the ripples of the water.

“Kinich,” I called out, voice catching the wind.

“Would you help me with this, please? I mean, with keeping my balance on the board?”

His gaze softened, and without a word, he nodded. With practiced ease, he dropped the surfboard into the water, and it settled with a small splash. Approaching me, he placed his hands gently around my waist, lifting me as if I weighed nothing.

My heart beat wildly, like drums against my chest—not just from the thrill, but from the intimate touch. Kinich’s hands lingered longer than necessary as he steadied me on the board, fingers warm against her skin through the thin fabric of my swimsuit. His grip was firm, yet tender, as though he was acutely aware of his strength and its effect.

“This good?” he asked, voice low, almost a whisper. It sent shivers down my spine, as I nodded, unable to find my voice. So instead I nodded, slowly.

Once Kinich was convinced Ihad found my balance, he slowly let go. For a few moments, I managed to stay upright, it was my triumph. But the waves had other plans. The board wobbled violently beneath my feet, and with a startled yelp, I lost my footing. In the blink of an eye, I grabbed onto Kinich, pulling him down with me. We both plunged into the cool embrace of the ocean. Breaking the surface, I wiped the water from my eyes, only to be met with the sight of a thoroughly drenched and disheveled Kinich. My initial shock dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“I am so sorry!” I gasped between laughs, noticing the way his usually calm demeanor was replaced with a mixture of surprise a cute scowl. “You look... upset.”

Kinich’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Upset with you? Never.”

His eyes held mine, a glint of mischief playing in their sunsets. “Actually,” he continued, his voice low and sincere, “since you’ve been asking so politely, I thought I might as well ask the same... Can I please kiss you?”

Time seemed to pause as his words settled over. The world faded around us, leaving just the two of us in that perfect, sunlit moment. I barely managed a nod.

Kinich's lips met mine with a tenderness that took my breath away. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it might slip away too soon. His hands, still resting on my hips, tightened slightly, pulling closer but never forcefully. 

I felt the warmth of his touch through the cool water, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my revealed skin. The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sensation of his lips on mine and the steady rhythm of our breaths mingling. 

As the kiss deepened, Kinich's hand moved to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheekbone. It was a gesture of pure affection, a silent promise of his care and respect. I responded in kind, my own hands finding their way to his shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth beneath my fingertips.

When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, heavy breaths mingling in the space between us. Kinich's eyes searched mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. Before he frowned.

"Now please stop saying please," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "I can't take it anymore."

[willowsnook]

Hello, 👋 Can I please order:

Gin, Lime, Wine glass.

Please and thank you.

lando norris x fewtrell!reader

Watch your fucking mouth

----------------------------------------------

Your brother truly believed that you were put on earth to make his life a living hell, and maybe he was right. He didn't understand what happened. How did you go from his sweet, innocent sister who would never do anything out of line to someone attracting the attention of every male in her vicinity, someone partying every weekend, and someone he had to bail out of jail.

In your defense...that bitch started it.

While he was confused by how much you had changed in college, you weren't. You had spent your whole life being Max Fewtrell's cute little sister. It gets cold in the shadows. When you went to college in the US, it was like a whole new world was opened. People didn't know who your brother was and if they did they didn't care. You became the star.

Now that you were back in the UK your brother got to witness the new you in person and it was driving him crazy. It was also driving his best friend, Lando, crazy. You had been head over heels for Lando while you were growing up and he had never given you the time of day. So you'd spent the first couple of months back torturing him. Tight, short outfits for whenever you knew you were going to be around him, always accidentally touching him whether it be a hand on his arm or squeezing in front of him to get by, and flirting with literally any man while you were out in front of both of them.

You'd seen how his eyes followed you around the room, how he stiffened at your touch, and the glaring at all the guys. But he couldn't do anything about any of that and you both knew it leaving him frustrated.

Today you were all headed to hang out on Charles's yacht, to celebrate his girlfriend Alex's birthday. You wore the skimpiest bikini you owned which immediately caused your brother to drag you off when you arrived.

"What on earth are you wearing?" He seethed and you gave him a sweet smile.

"I'm trying to get a tan Maxey," you said and he huffed.

"You might as well be naked," he said.

"Don't give me any ideas," you replied before slipping out of his grip and walking onto the boat. You gave Alex a big hug wishing her a happy birthday and the two of you went off to find drinks while catching up.

Walking back onto the main deck you smirked as you watched Lando start to stutter talking to Charles when he saw you. Following Alex over to the boys, you watched as his eyes never left your body and smirked.

"I think we're going to lay out for a bit," she told Charles, leaning in to give him a kiss.

"Can you help me put sunscreen on?" You asked Lando and he slowly nodded. You laid your stuff down on a chair and pulled out the lotion. Squirting a bit on your hands you worked on the front part of your body while Lando grabbed the sunscreen for your back. His hands were soft and diligent on your back and he remained silent. When he finished your lower back he hesitated.

"I don't want to burn my ass Lando," you said. He glanced over at your brother who was glaring daggers at him from across the deck.

"You're going to get me in trouble," he muttered before massaging the lotion into your ass and down your legs. "All done."

A little later you were all sitting around a table for a light dinner. Lando was sitting in between you and Alex with Max and Charles sitting across from you guys. Using this to your advantage you spent a lot of time leaning over Lando to talk to Alex, giving him a nice view of your chest. The third time you did it he laid his hand on your thigh, squeezing it hard. He didn't move it, even when you moved back and you knew you had him just where you wanted him.

Most of the day's attendees left after dinner and the five of you were left lounging around a fire pit, enjoying the night sky. Max and Charles were in a deep conversation about some sim racing streamer leaving Lando to eavesdrop on you and Alex.

"Are you still seeing that guy you met in Ibiza?" Alex asked and you shook your head.

"No, he was boring," you said. "You'll never guess who slid into my DMs the other day though."

Lando's head snapped towards yours as he heard you and Alex gave him a knowing look.

"Who?" She asked.

"Jack Hughes," you told her. "He's a hockey player in the US. And let me tell you, that man is fine."

You showed Alex a picture of him and she agreed.

"What should I message him back?" You asked an idea already forming as you saw Lando clenching his hands into fists. "Maybe I'll just straight up send him a nude, really set the tone."

Alex laughed catching on, especially when Lando abruptly stood up.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He asked you, trying to keep his composure. You winked at Alex before following him inside the boat until he stopped.

"What are you getting at?" He said, anger simmering off of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You replied, giving him doe eyes.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he said. "Spending all day looking like that, touching me, and riling me up."

"And what are you doing about it?" You asked pretending to think. "Oh right, nothing."

"We both know I can't," he said stepping towards you, starting to lose his cool.

"Then don't say a word when I'm fucking a hockey player who can," you said.

"Watch your fucking mouth," he seethed coming within an inch of your face.

"Or what?"

Back hitting the wall behind you, his lips were on yours in an instant. Gasping at the sudden aggression his tongue slid into your mouth as his hand came up to your throat holding you in place. You dragged your hand down his abs landing on the hard bulge causing him moan into you.

Smirking you pushed him off and moved towards a bedroom, him hot on your heels. He climbed on top of you on the bed bringing his lips to your neck sucking hard. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as your head was thrown back on the pillows while he continued.

"Teasing me all summer hmm," he said looking you in the eye. "Just begging me to fuck you. What happened to sweet little innocent y/n?"

You flipped him over, straddling him and grinding down on his bulge.

"She's dead," you replied and brought your mouth down to his chest nipping at his chest hard making him groan out. He had just started untie your bikini top when someone knocked on the door causing you both to freeze.

"You had better not be in there with my sister Lando I swear to god," you heard your brother Max yell and you looked down at Lando who had gone pale.

"Your move."

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

“DATV is about hope and is escapist” then why is the story retroactively trying to paint Solas, the only person of the Evanuris who used his power and privilege to help end slavery and liberate the elves, as a prideful arrogant self-centered bastard who secretly loved being worshipped as a god when every single thing he has ever said and done contradicts those assumptions made by the Veilguard companions.

Oh I’m sorry, do you think slave rebellions can be accomplished through peaceful means? Through purely decentralized anarchist uprisings? Are we trying to argue that Solas didn’t rebel the “correct way”? Are we trying to argue that Solas actually wanted to be worshipped as a god by those he freed. Solas, a man who wanted nothing more than to be a spirit of Wisdom and act as nothing more than an entity that would help people act and think mindfully?

The game’s dialogue for the companions tries to make it out like Solas enjoyed being a rebellion leader, rather than it being one of the most frustrating and agonizing and embittering experiences of his existence. The game is so clumsy that is seems to imply that Solas trying to do right by the elves with the rebellion was another mistake on his part, as if someone trying to fight for the rights of an oppressed people is something that is ever a mistake one could make.

Real liberal (derogatory) hours here. Even at your most uncharitable—Solas helped give the elves bodies and helped the Evanuris secure their power—he was trying to correct that mistake and was the only one of the Evanuris that was actively doing so. Mythal was dragging her ass the entire fucking time trying to be a fence-sitting centrist that thought you could actually parley and negotiate with slave owners. Oh but wait, Veilguard conveniently proves you can! Just look at Dorian! Apparently all you needed to dismantle centuries upon centuries of brutal inhumane slavery was a dandy saying “please let the slaves go” and everything is all but resolved in ten fucking years. Solas, why didn’t you try taaaalking to the blood magic warmongering slave sacrificing Evanuris? Maybe things would’ve gone better if you’d just asked nicely 🥺

Veilguard tries to go the “Solas is corrupting into Pride” and they botched it so terribly. Solas is prideful, but the writers made him out like his problem was a secret vanity or desire for power. No, his problem was that he thought he was correct. That is a 100000% entirely different issue and it shows that the writers have no concept of nuance for psychology or even what Wisdom and even Pride are. And for people to swallow “Wow Solas was just a power-hungry arrogant bastard all along” is like reading Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee —the abandoned prototype of To Kill a Mockingbird that was meant to remain an unused manuscript—and thinking that is the real story and everything established in TKaM about Atticus Finch was just smoke and mirrors. Like come the fuck on.

Solas’s issue is that as a mortal he is inundated with mortal feelings that interfere with the purity of Wisdom. All mortals have levels of dignity and pride that are inextricably linked and mutually dependent to their recognition of their own personhood. Self-esteem, if you will. Wisdom is the act of deliberating and determining and enacting the best—most morally correct, most benign, most benign, most “good”—course of action in a scenario based on an aggregation of information and experiences. Solas’s “Pride” and biggest flaw is that he believes his judgments are the most objectively correct or best because this guy has spent tens of thousands of years watching and observing and experiencing people make the same mistakes over and over, behave in similar cyclical predictable ways in matters of love, power, violence, hatred, greed, tyranny, cruelty, ignorance, oppression, pride, grief, etc. Because Wisdom is derived from being able to apply knowledge and history and experience to solve a present problem, Solas naturally thinks he’s no spring chicken to all this and that he’s got a better grasp than most. Where Wisdom turns into Pride is the nature of the mortal mind, which for many likes to rely on rules of thumb and shortcuts and patterns to solve issues. While this is present in the dissemination of Wisdom, the flipside is that it can leave one vulnerable to stubbornness and partiality to one’s viewpoint regardless of new developments. Again, the mortal mind likes shortcuts because it saves time. Puzzling out whether this person or that scenario is truly uniquely unique every single time, wastes time. This is how presumptions and stereotypes arise. That Solas could only observe modern Thedas through what was reflected in the Fade gave him a half-understanding of people. That he chose to develop a resentment toward the Dalish after one bad encounter and remain detached from other races before joining the Inquisition meant he had fallen prey to these intellectual pitfalls, which is the result of his mortal nature interfering with his Wisdom nature.

It is also why he seems so philosophical and open-minded and lofty in some conversations and extremely definitive and judgmental in others over the same topic, notably modern elves and Dalish. This is the humanitarian nature of Wisdom—the pacifistic thoughtfulness—having been granted reactive, if at times impolitic claws. He is a man in flux, frustrated at the presence of pride in others; flush with his own thread of pride as an ages-old being; forced to endure ignorance of the Dalish that he cannot alleviate because he tried to once and failed, and to try again now while in the Inquisition would risk his identity being found out; and in his frustration forgetting what he knows very deeply, which is that the reason the Dalish are ignorant is because elves have suffered centuries of erosion of their civilization and culture, on top of enslavement, conquest, and cultural genocide. The Wisdom part of him knows that. At times he can remark and highlight very astutely on the plight of people when the topic of oppression comes up. The mortal part of him that is “active”, i.e. flossed with personality, esteem, and cognitive bias, obscures this clarity granted to him by his original nature. It clouds his thinking, it makes him forget, and it is even harder for him to recalibrate and remember their circumstances because once his Pride radar is pinged, it’s what he latches onto and mirrors. Unfortunately, Pride rarely conquers Pride. They only amplify each other, like gasoline on flames, so Solas’s mirroring unintentionally encourages more of what he detests. The pure material world is not like the Fade where strength of will can consume or cancel out another will. He should know that by now, but as stated, he’s in flux. His grasp on How to Be a Person is far more extensive than Cole’s, but it seems former-spirit-turned-mortals possess some lingering cognitive habits from their time as spirits, and this throws their mental gears out of whack.

Solas has never wanted to rule over people. He has never once wanted to be worshipped even at his most manipulative and Machiavellian. He wants to sit under a tree in the summer and idly discuss whether fire could be considered alive and if good requires evil to exist and the pros and cons of allowing collective memory to remain unchallenged. He wants to explore the Fade and see what new gentle incorporeal friends he might encounter.

Like of all things, the butchering of Solas’s character pisses me off to no end. Dislike him if you want, hate him if you want, but don’t for a second try to misconstrue that his problem is that he has secret aspirations for godhood. Does he think ancient elves are a superior race? There are definitely indications. But he doesn’t think of himself as someone to be worshipped by anyone, least of all other elves. Very huge distinction.

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ vii

part six - part eight

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ life goes on and it's up to you to decide who stays and who goes.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ reader really growing and living her best life like she should. Spelling mistakes add character 😉 if you haven't been tagged, know that I either wasn't able to tag you or simply forgot to add you to my list, I'm not ignoring you, please send me a message if i did!

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y/nusername

📍 Nice, France

liked by landonorris, milliexoxo and 2548,543 others

y/nusername life. 🐠

tagged: landonorris, milliexoxo

view all 1,888 comments

charlesgirlies can you tell zoë to stop growing so fast? 🥺

yukisan who's the other girl?

↳ bott_ass their nanny

yukisan since when?

bott_ass girl how should I know? 😭

norry4 cutest little kid on the block 😍

milliexoxo ❤️

mrsnorris once again lando hanging out with them..

↳ norrizz okay and?

mrsnorris what about Charles? How would your bf react if you hang out with anorhers guy all the time?

norrizz pretty sure they broke up

mrsnorris sure because you know them personally right?

norrizz no girl because in one if her vlogs she's moving, she now lives in Nice without Charles or is that something couples do nowadays??

chilisainz so what if her and lando hang out, they're good friends! You should follow y/n a bit more before you judge them..zoë adores lando and the other way around. They're good friends

hamilt44n can't wait for bahrain in two weeks, hope I get a chance to meet you!

yourmumsuser my beautiful grand baby 🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️

landonorris we did in fact find nemo 🐠

↳ y/nusername and now we've lost dory :(

milliexoxo we'll have to go to the aquariums again to look for her!

norrislandooo stop it why is this so cute?! 😭

charliecharlie who's millie?

norrislandooo their nanny

charliecharlie why she look so young?

norrislandooo idk lmao y'all Charles girlies so obsessed with y/n and all the people she's hanging out with

milliexoxo I'm 19 that's probably why I look so young, thanks 🤩

norrislandooo oh god, she's one of us 😭

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y/nusername

📍 bahrain

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 555,465 others

y/nusername week 1. 🇧🇭

tagged: milliexoxo

yourmumsuser my pretty pretty grandbaby ❤️❤️❤️

norry4 y/n back on the tracks LFGOOOO

julieeeexo zoë is such a cute little thing 🥺

milliexoxo my cute little gurlfriend is stealing the show 😍

↳ landonorris just like her mum

norrizz lando norris get out of here, stop trying to flirt with the milfs for gods sake 😂

manon_roux ma petite princesse me manque :( (missing my little monkey)

bott_ass can't wait to see you and jenson judge Danica on love tv 😍

↳ hamilt44n honestly can't wait for y/n to shut Danica up

charliecharlie I don't think jenson would've survived another season without y/n 💀

charles_leclerc ma jolie princesse ❤️ (my pretty princess)

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Saudi Arabia

liked by milliexoxo, landonorris and 478,745 others

y/nusername week 2. 🇸🇦

view all 1,889 comments

milliexoxo okaaaasy mom 😍

↳ y/nusername 😐

charlesgirlies millie >>>>> noelle

bott_ass millie >>>> manon

charlesgirlies millie is queen <3

milliexoxo stop it, the fame will get to my head 😇

hamilt44n is zoë always so happy? 😭

norrizz okay girl, I see the subtle hints 👀

↳ norry4 the nails 😭

charles16 they're orange not mclaren colors..

norry4 same thing to me 😭

charles16 y'all reaching too much, she's still with charles

norry4 it's alright bestie, I've been living in delulu land too, I'll help you through it

yukisan I love you mother, I hope you know that 🥰

landonorris amazing photographer, could you tag him?

↳ y/nusername @.lando.jpg

landonorris nice, great guy that is

landonorizz YOU'RE TELLING ME LANDO TOOK THAT SEXY ASS PICTURE?!

luhamilton I bet they make sex tapes 👀

landonorrizz only fans when??? 👀

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew

[livin4woso]

Casual-(alexia putellas x reader)

Summary- You can only keep it casual for so long right well. alexia doesn't want to any further than you just being a fling occasionally. However, you want more from her. You want commitment.

It's not as if alexia didn't like you or that she didn't find you attractive it was just that you were a low time commitment when she occasionally fancied when her schedule gave her a few hours free.

While that was good for the first month a summer fling as she proposed the idea to you however after 3 months, you can't help but catch feelings for the women who is in and out of your bed atleast once a week as a 'stress reliever'. The sneaking around your teamates to hide this suitationship was thrilling at first, like an adrenaline rush now it was plain boring and felt like a guilty secret.

You wanted the blonde to yourself as while it felt exclusive to you, there was no agreement for alexia to stay put to you she could do what she wanted when she wanted. You know you're not the only person she has slept with as she came into training with a neck full of hickeys and you dont leave marks because it has to be a secret right and even the slightest trace would ruin what was going on between yous.

However while you can accept it a few times you had reached your limit as you can't help but feel jealous when you know she has other women in her bed yet you sit and wait for her like a kicked puppy waiting for her attention.

You texted her to come round yours, but you didn't tell her what for as you needed to express your feelings towards her before you drag yourself deep falling for the blonde woman more than you already had.

Alexia hadn't expected much other than the usual routine of hook up wake up entangled in eachother then leave on the morning without a trace and she wasn't going to complain as you were some of the best sex she had in the past few years. She got changed into some sweats as she was used to the routine and didn't need to get dressed up nice as its not as if they would be on her for very long.

You heard the knock of the door usually filled you with excitement was now one of dread as this could either go two ways. You opened the door and greeted alexia, and as you almost slipped into your familiar routine of her lips pressed against your neck, you stopped her.

"Ale, can we talk, please?" you said, trying to push her towards the sofa. "Mhm," she said, understanding the hint and sat on the corner of your L shaped sofa. "Look, i just needed to confess something. i like you, and i can't keep doing this. Just as a random fling, i want commitment ,i want you, " you said, pacing the living room trying to read her stoic facial expressions. "Im sorry y/n, but i dont feel the same. i told you this was casual, and that's it. You knew that from the start," she replied, almost heartless "yeah right casual" you replied, pushing the loose strands of hair behind your head as almost a stress reliever.

This was a rash decision but it needed to end "then im sorry but we're finished no more of this of us whatever you even call this because i can't do casual anymore" you replied almost shocked at your own words. Alexia was almost stunned at you but she didn't let it slip not for one second "okay and i respect that I'll leave and I'll see you at training" she replied getting up to leave your apartment.

However, you couldn't see her at training knowing the countless times you'd been wrapped in her arms wanting to be hers. So you texted your agent and Accepted the deal to transfer to Chelsea this was the final straw if alexia didn't want to commit to you the only way to get rid of her is to remove her from your life completely.

Once the move was completed during the January window, you were having one of the best seasons you have had in a while with many goal contributions to the team. Meanwhile alexia was having a harder time to adjust without you and she had many of time thought about texting you saying she had lied that night and that she also felt the same but she was just scared to commit herself to a relationship again.

She couldn't do that not to you after she knew she had ruined you so much to leave for a different country but also to herself as her cowardness and anxiety had led to her mistake. Many teammates had asked her why you had transferred so abruptly, but she would never admit she was the reason for it all because she wanted to keep things casual between yous.

[troublesh00terfaery]

BELOW 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. THIS WORK IS NSFW! KEEP OUT! [THIS WORK IS PURELY FICTION]

[Alhaitham x AFAB! Reader]

Words: 3,003 Synopsis: In the heart of Sumeru, thrives the peaceful and unique kingdom to which governed by the monarchy. A young prince experiences a strange succession of dreams to which a mysterious woman comforts him. Wouldn't it be delightful to make this dreams into a reality? Tags: AFAB! Reader, slight teasing, Prince! Alhaitham x Goddess Reader. Pronouns for AFAB reader are she/her. Alhaitham slightly obsessed with you. So far, this will be main tags, more will be added on the following chapters. A/N: after a year of not posting, I AM BACK! AND YES, WITH MORE WORKS. I PROMISE I PROMISE! This idea has been in my head for quite sometime and I personally think you guys will be enjoying this. Should I make a series for the Sumeru men? Prolly. ALSO I DID NOT PROOFREAD THIS SO APOLOGIES, ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE. -Circe,xoxo. <3

FOLLOWING, REBLOGGING, INTERACTIONS, AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

"My Lord, the scrolls have arrived." One of the scribes of the King arrived, offer him a handful of nicely kept scrolls.

For the past three months, Alhaitham has kept himself confined by the study. The setting filled with scrolls of knowledges, as if he tried to absorb every detail he was trying to comprehend. He only replied with a nod and took the scrolls and placed it by the table.

Alhaitham was the only son in line to the throne and he was no ordinary prince. With his knowledge and skill, the other neighbouring nations spoke of him warmly, although setting aside his stoic and rather cold demeanour upon interacting.

The past three months, a mysterious woman had appeared in his dreams in successions. Seemingly telling an ode to him but he couldn't remember what it was, only her beautiful face could he remember. Drapped in white linen and surrounded by padisarah flowers, she would comfort him in his serene dreams to only wake up with scrolls beside him and a cold cup of tea.

It haunted him, every move he made and every thought he had, it followed and haunted him. At times he could not sleep and tried his best to decipher what was it about. He would find himself drawing pictures of this mysterious woman to only ruin it, frustrated and convinced himself that it didn't look like her nor it was not her. Questioning his ability for artistic work he had learned.

At first, he was rather indifferent. It didn't bother him about this mysterious yet ethereal looking woman to appear in his dreams once in a while but as it went on oftenly, this somehow awakened something in him. His curiousity has took over him, trying to look for answers. He was not a man of spirituality but as the dreams went on, he had to summon a spiritual leader to interpret his dreams which he rather finds ridiculous. He was afterall, programmed with knowledge, rational, and logical thinking and approach.

But it did not help him at all, his curiosity grew and grew for this woman in his dreams. At some point, he would forcefully make himself fall asleep to see her again and promised to ever probe her, but her could not dream of her. Thus, he concluded that she would only appear in his dreams when it's: 1) it's night, and 2) when he doesn't force himself to fall asleep.

He wasn't a believer of such. In fact, as the dreams came in successions, he was concluding that he was either sick in the head or he lacked sleep. Given in his work focused nature, he deduct the idea that we was just lacking sleep but somehow, it made him rather stuck in a same routine where he longed for this mysterious woman in his dreams. Who was this woman? What did she mean? Was she real? What is she even?

Of course you were real, in fact, appearing in his dreams was not coincidence. You were indeed a living being, but not an ordinary one. Hindered from the advancement of Sumeru, lies your monastery filled with padisarahs and gold entombed monuments you refuse to leave for it is a sanctuary you have cultivated. It is true to what they say, the Sumeru has still secrets to be revealed, and you were one of the secrets yet to be come upon.

The dreams the prince set genesis when he stumbled upon an old scroll he found during the expedition a month prior his dreams. It was a shabby ancient scroll he found in a mausoleum to expand their territories in the vast lands of the sands. This way, they could keep a hold of the expanding group of eremites and their illegal trading and activities, as per the orders of the king himself to his only successor to the throne.

At first, he didn't pay much attention to the scroll as according to Alhaitham, it wasn't something he nor scribes comprehend. Although a shaman suggested this could be an ancient text telling a story of a goddess who secluded herself from the world. To his prior knowledge, Alhaitham considered the idea rather off. He digressed the notion of a goddess secluding herself from the world. Why would this goddess even seclude herself?

"Are you certain of this?" he asked the shaman, as if questioning the capabilities of the elder.

"That is for you to find out, your highness." the shaman replied.

Ridiculous. Alhaitham thought. He has never heard the tales of this mysterious divine being, nor was taught to him.

Unbeknownst to him, this would eventually trigger a response from you. You could hear his curiosity from a radius away and found it rather amusing. It didn't bother you that nobody prayed for you nor called out for refuge in your arms but this man has had you delighted. Is this an acknowledgment from a being the gods were referring to?

His growing curiosity was getting louder that you had to appear in his dreams. It was mere simple dreams, you appearing and observing him from a far, to showing him your small abode, to entertaining him by playing an instrument as he watched from a close distant.

And it got to the point that you teased the poor scribe by planting a small kiss on his lips. Upon breaking the kiss, he could only stare at you with feverish desire. His colorful eyes looking answers as you cupped his cheeks and feel his strong jaws clenching, urging himself to stop. He returned the favor by brushing his thumb to your luscious and plump lips, grazing his nose bridge by your supple cheeks and leaving kisses and hushed breaths. His palms making its way to your waist, as if trying to remember every detail he could remember. You let him, of course. Everything was new to you, the feeling of intimacy and the warmth of his touch would surge an unexplainable excitement to you. Something you lacked for years and something you, unexpectedly, found a need.

"Please, tell me who you really are and I would search for you in every nation." he begged, his head resting by your shoulder, seeking for both solace and answers as he left kisses over your exposed collar and neck.

You could only reply with a soft chuckle and cup his cheek and pecked a kiss on his cheek. It's a never ending question left unanswered. It was a cue to stop the dream and awaken him from his slumber. A kiss that would blur his vision and awaken him from his dream.

Even if it was only a dream in his point of view, he was still in your domain. Everything was real and it was beyond scientific explanation to prove that every time he was dreaming, everything was happening was happening in your domain. But could he really comprehend and figure out it was the goddess he denied of existence?

"Your grace, your father has called for you." a scribe entered his study, to find Alhaitham lazily looking by the painted ceiling. Seemingly awoken by the morning breeze of the open space of his chambers. The smell of incense from last night was freshly burnt out and the hues of the sunlight passing through the long curtains.

He tilted his head and responded with a nod. Few moments has passed, the prince presented himself to the king. Surprisingly, the king thought it would have been another day to nag the prince to get out of his chambers but there he was, walking towards the king in his seat.

"Father," he greeted.

"Ah yes, son." he spoke, delighted with the presence. Alongside the king was their pet, a Rishbolan tiger, Jihan, to which Alhaitham smiled as the big feline nudged its head to his legs before positioning itself beside Alhaitham.

"How was your night?"

Alhaitham could only remember your face and your soft chuckle. It took a moment before he could respond in his usual laidback demeanor.

"Nothing special." he replied. "You called?"

The king wasn't new to his straightforwardness and thus explained to him. A mysterious woman was spotted near the Vissudha expansion. The king explained to him that the guards spotted the woman just a few meters away from the construction the king has started two years ago. The woman was reported to be rather composed, explaining as to why she freely roamed the ungoing site. The site itself was dangerous, filled with wild beasts and noxious florals thus the only personnel allowed within the Vissudha expansion were architects and members of the royal committee.

"Oh." Alhaitham nodded to his father's story.

"The guards and the look outs commented on her knowledge with the terrains around Sumeru." the king replied. "So they brought her here."

"She's rather adventurous for exploring the area." Alhaitham circled the study table of his father before he comfortably sat by the sofa.

"Dare I must say, but her extensive knowledge with the sands is quite admirable."

"Oh?"

"Yes, in fact, I had spoken a few words with the young woman." The king chuckled, amused. "She's quite brilliant, suggesting a further expansion by the sands. Especially the mausoleums!"

Alhaitham could only respond with a hum. Seems like the women in Sumeru are rather peculiar for roaming carelessly, he thought.

"If I can guess, she's at your age or probably younger. Must have come from a noble family, and archons, her beauty is otherwordly!"

At his age, Alhaitham isn't new to his father's suggestion of him marrying. He was at the age, it is just that his son didn't pay attention and put the importance of it at this moment. He knows it so well that his father would insist upon meeting this woman and thus readied himself by rejecting his father's notion.

"You should meet her."

"No," he replied. "I have scrolls to keep and manage, father." he stood up, Jihad yawned from his action, causing for the feline to stand up and flex its body before nudging and circled the prince. "Jihad…"

The feline responded with succession of chuffs.

"No, no, guards please escort the young lady." the king hurriedly instructed, halting the young prince from walking away. The young prince heaved a sigh, and sat back by the wide sofa once again. This time, Jihad had placed himself by his lap and offed himself to his usual sleep.

The king himself was delighted to see the prince not walking away thus, became slowly impatient to introduce this lady and a few moments has passed, the guards themselves arrived by the king's chambers. Accompanying this said lady to meet the prince.

Each tick of the time, Alhaitham grew impatient with the little meet and greet. He angled his face to towards the curtains, he rubbed his forehead using his middle finger and his index finger whilst his thumb rested on the temple of his forehead. His other hand rested by the felines body to which Jihad appreciated by chuffing.

This was a waste of time, according to Alhaitham. He wasn't aware his father was a matchmaker, so eager to get his only son to be wed. The thought of being married has Alhaitham furrowing his brows.

"Ah, Alhaitham, come meet the young lady." The king softly spoke. Alhaitham could hear his positive remarks to this young lady to which she replied in small and shy chuckles. If he was to judge her, he would find her peculiar and mindless for roaming the area alone. Who on earth would walk alone confidently in an area yet to be finished with construction and still to be tamed?

"Father, I do not have time for this discussion you are initiating--"

"It is an honor, to finally meet the prince." the young lady spoke.

He took a peek from his fingers to have a view of the lady just a few meters away from him. And there she stood, wearing a simple white clothing and a scarf that was loosely wrapped around her hair, a few loose strands of her hair swayed by the wind.

Eyes matching the gaze of the royal prince, a small smile forming in your lips. Upon having a clear view of you, Alhaitham realized what was in front of him. Dumbfounded and speechless, he slowly stood up and awoken the tiger that comfortably laid himself by his lap. Jihad yawned and chuffed, excusing himself by jumping just below the luxurious sofa.

All he could do was to stand there and thought to himself this must be an illusion, or one of his dreams. Silence enveloped the study of the king as he observed you gaze at him with those beautiful yet studious eyes. It's like he couldn't decipher if it was truly you in his dreams or a different person.

There you were, standing in your corporeal form but nothing changed, only the clothing of choice. Ever so radiant, ever so ethereal. The prince couldn't utter any words as he was dumbfounded by the person in front of him. Was his head playing tricks with him? Probably the light? With every inhale an exhale you did, it was proof of life that you were indeed real. After nights of longing for you, you were finally here. In his reality.

Truth be told, this wasn't a scheme you would normally do. Why would a goddess, who voluntarily secluded herself from the world to live in her curated domain, leave her sanctuary? But oh, maybe it was his effect on you? Something finally ignited your curiosity from the outside world. A prince, a brilliant and handsome one.

The king was rather amused with the reaction of his son as he slowly approached you but then halted, as if doubting your existence again.

"Ah, seems like the prince is astonished by your beauty, my dear lady."

The warmth of the king only made you smile as you gazed at Alhaitham. He on the other hand somehow doubted every inch of life in you thus his brows furrowed. The king was indeed right, Alhaitham couldn't deny the beauty in you. You radiated of something out of this world, a beauty that could make a man lose his mind. Lethal, he would call it.

"They were right, your highness." you spoke. "He was indeed a beautiful prince."

Alhaitham stood there, ready to speak.

"Where did you come from?"

That was rather an unexpected question, you thought.

"I was just roaming around the area because I heard there was a constructio--"

"I am asking where are you from." His tone was stern but calm, probing the situation more.

You wouldn't tell him of your sanctuary. It would be ridiculous and of course, it was a secret.

"I came from the desert."

"Which part of the desert exactly?"

"Hadramaveth."

"Ridiculous, that area is out of the reach of the palace nor the council."

"Well I suppose you should widen your expansion within the desert." you replied with a monotone. "After all, the king mentioned you have an ongoing expedition, why not discover it yourself."

He could only stare at your answers, his hawk-like gaze observing you as if he was to judge you of your being. You actually forgot to distinguish whether this was his usual attitude compared to his demeanor during his dreams.

"That area of the desert is out of reach because of its harsh desert." he crossed his arms. "It is an untamed land filled with sandworms and consecrated beasts."

The probing session awakened Jihad whom approached his prince, slowly circling him.

"Well indeed, your grace." you replied. "But there is an area where humans can live, just the passage between Hadramaveth and the Tanit camps."

"To which the eremites occupy." he rebuked. "So, you are an eremite then?"

"No, of course not." the question made you furrow your brows.

"Then answer my question, where are you from?"

The king felt the tension between the two of you. You initially thought that he was going to be delighted to see you in your human form instead of his dreams. But here he is, questioning you. A human, questioning you.

"Now, now, Alhaitham." the king awkwardly chuckled, stepping in. "I think you are scaring the young lady. She offered help to navigate the sands."

"I already sent my men, no need for navigation." Alhaitham looked at his father.

"Your men are headed the wrong direction," you replied. "They're still at the mausoleums."

"And how do you know this? Are you certain they're my men? What mausoleum are you referring to?"

Well, shoot. Of course you couldn't tell him that you can just see everything in a snap. That would ruin your plan. Think. Think. Think.

Now you were certain this was a bad idea, you should've just shut yourself inside that sanctuary of your comfort instead of feeding this man of his wants. What is he up to anyway? You scolded yourself.

"Your highness--"

"That's enough. Guards, please escort this young lady to her quarters." the king sighed.

"No, father. She will be accompanying me in my study." Alhaitham turned his back, walking away and his tiger following along. "She'll have to map the desert out."

You stood there, dumbfounded. This was different man, a different man in his dreams. Where was the man who would look at you with those longing eyes despite being close together? Where was that man who would listen to you play the harp and smile as your grazed your fingers through the strings? Where was the man who would ask for your touch and comfort? Where was he?

You couldn't move from the unexpected reaction from him. Was he not content of seeing you? The silence enveloped and only the heave of the king snapped you back from the heavy thought. Alhaitham stopped as he noticed you were not tagging along.

"Come," he looked back with those stoic eyes.

What an unexpected turn of events.

A/N: FOLLOWING, REBLOGGING, INTERACTIONS, AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED! Make sure to follow the first hashtag #Circeworks୨୧ to be updated with my future works! Happy reading faes!

[outsideratheart]

Shoot Your Shot (Alexia Putellas x Olympic Gymnast!reader)

A/N: I know it’s been a while but I am hoping to get back to writing again. Here’s a little Alexia Olympics fic. I hope you guys like it.

The night had been a blur but in the best possible way. Alexia had dreamt about representing Spain in the Olympics for years and to win a gold was always the goal. It was a goal she and the team achieved after beating Brazil in the final. 

She had truly let loose and celebrated what this achievement meant to her, her team and the people of Spain. 

Here’s the thing about Alexia, when she was drunk she became very very confident. So much so that in her intoxicated state she did something she has wanted for do for a while, she shamelessly slid into your DMs. 

It’s how she found herself standing in the Olympic village with her hands as clammy as can be the following day. 

“Ale, what’s wrong?” Irene asked her club team mate. 

The woman in question could only shake her head. Her thoughts were running 100 miles an hour and she couldn’t help but think it was a mistake. Had drunken Alexia stitched currently Alexia up?

“Haven’t you heard?” Jenni playfully nudged her former club captain “Alexia here got drunk and messaged Y/N Y/L/N. That’s why she is so nervous, she is meeting up with her this afternoon” 

Irene couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She knew Alexia was an admirer of you, everyone did. The Catalonian watched every single one of your events and if she couldn’t watch them live then she would watch them as soon as she got into the locker room. 

“You did?” Irene asked in disbelief. 

Alexia could couldn’t speak. She could only nod her head as a form of response. 

She thinks back to the night before. She had been celebrating for hours and drank bottle after bottle of the finest wine France had to offer. 

Hola guapa 

That is what Alexia messaged you on Instagram. The reason why you even responded is lost on her but she did make a mental reminder to ask you about it. 

“So?” Jenni asks Ale. 

“So?” Alexia had a dumfound look on her face. 

“What are you going to say to her? We all know that drunk Alexia is confident but sober Alexia is not, she is quiet and doesn’t make the first move” the forward knew her friend too well. She knew exactly what Alexia is like and once hearing about her quest, she made it her mission to help her. 

“I don’t know Jenni. I couldn’t stop talking last night but now, now I have no idea what to say” Alexia began pacing back and forth. 

The nerves were surfacing and they made Alexia feel sick. Not only did she think you were beautiful, you were also the most decorated gymnastic in history. That itself came with a level of intimidation that Alexia was dreading. 

She knew her friends were trying to help but they were only making her feel worse. She needed to escape but that didn’t happen. No, instead of peace she found herself being hit several times by her team mates. 

“There she is!” Jenni slapped Alexia extra hard. She herself was excited at the thought of meeting you. 

“Leave. Now. Please” Alexia whisper shouted. 

“No. Let’s go see her” Jenni had already started walking towards you. 

“You can hide behind me if you get scared” Irene teased her friend. It was rare to see Alexia this nervous so she made a point to enjoy it. 

You were talking to some other athletes when the three Spaniards approached you. You know it was rude but Alexia was the only one you paid attention to. You didn’t think it possible but she was even more stunning in person. 

“Alexia!” You were excited and it came through in your tone. 

You all but ran towards her. Did you look eager? Yes but you didn’t care. 

“Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you” Alexia did something out of character. She pulled you into her arms. 

This earned looks from both of her friends who upon seeing the midfielders action realised that maybe Alexia’s feelings were more serious that then thought. 

“So we are going to leave you two to explore and are going to meet up with the rest of the team” Irene nudged Jenni in the opposite direction of where you and Alexia were heading. 

Jenni teased that she would only leave if you two took a photo together. It was something you happily agreed to if it meant getting some one on one time with the Barcelona player. 

You and Alexia agreed on walking to one of the coffee shops located in the village, the one that had become a favourite of yours. Alexia kept stealing glances at you only she wasn’t being as subtle as she thought because after each time she looked at you, you felt a fire set a light in you.  

“Do I make you nervous?” You tried to lighten the mood by teasing a little. 

“Yes. Very much” Alexia was scared to admit this. Besides, she knew you knew otherwise you wouldn’t be asking her. 

“You weren’t nervous last night” you playfully nudged her causing her cheeks to flush red within an instant. 

“I’m sorry for that. I celebrated a little too hard” 

“Why are you apologising? Congratulations again” 

“I must have said some embarrassing things. It’s why I don’t drink and text” 

“Hmmm, you did tell me that but then you told me that if you didn’t use your liquid courage to talk to me then it would have been a waste” you couldn’t help but giggle as you recalled Alexia’s honest words. 

“I said that?” 

“Yes. Haven’t you read the messages this morning?” You ask knowing that you had read the messages numerous times since you woke up. 

This did nothing for the way Alexia felt. Should she have read them? Did she say something that needs re-reading? 

“I haven’t. Did I say something bad?” Alexia asked scared of the answer.  

“You didn’t. You talked about football and asked about gymnastics. We talked about how much we have been watching each other throughout the tournament. Oh! As requested” you reached into your pocket and got the pin Alexia asked for. You briefly looked at it. It wasn’t the normal Team USA pin, no it was your personal one. The one you reserved for friends and the athletes you respected the most. 

Alexia looked lost. Her gaze went from the pin, to you and the back to the pin. She learnt from social media that the Olympians traded pins but she had no idea why you were giving her one or what you meant by she requested it. 

In that moment you realised that maybe Alexia had drank a little more than you originally thought. 

“You don’t remember asking for this, do you?” 

The way Alexia innocently pointed to herself was adorable. 

“Yes, you” you poked her playfully in her chest “Last night we talked about what we wanted in life and you said to take me on a date and a pin” 

“This isn’t the USA one” Alexia closely inspected the pin you had placed in her hand. She then holds it up so you could see the pin as if you hadn’t seen it before. 

“No, it is not. I get asked to swap pins all the time and 90% of people get the USA pins, this pin” you reach into your pocket and show Alexia the pin in question “only friends and athletes I admire and respect get that one” you point to the one you gave Alexia. 

The Spaniard’s cheeks flush red as she rubs her finger over your name that was within a gold heart. 

“Gold?” She raises her eyebrows. The whole world expected you to get gold this Olympics, multiple at that. Clearly by the pin you expected this of yourself too. 

You don’t agree nor do you disagree. Instead your response comes in the form of a shrug of the shoulders. 

“I don’t have a pin for you” Alexia admitted.

“That’s ok. They don’t have to be swapped. I’ll happily give you it Alexia”

Alexia stood there in awe of you. She recognised your beauty through the screen but she soon learnt standing in front of you that it didn’t do you justice. 

You stood there is the same awe. Alexia was a sight to behold. You had watched every game of hers you could. Maybe you should have been cheering for the USA but you were raised a Barcelona fan so from the very beginning you wanted certain Spanish players to succeed. She was known as La Reina and now more than ever you understand why. She was a queen. Her eyes radiated under the French sun and you could spend hours getting lost in them. 

“Shall we?” Alexia held out her arm and you linked through them. The act wasn’t an intimate as hand holding but it was very sweet. 

“We shall” you wondered if the smile on your face was as big as it felt. 

For the next hour, you and Alexia walked around the Olympic village trying all of the different food stalls. When you see it, you pull her over to the chocolate muffin stand.

“You have to try this” you peel back the wrapper and hold it out to her. She eyes it up suspiciously as if she is thinking about whether or not to try it. 

“Alexia, I -“

“Ale” she cuts you off. 

“Ale?” You ask with furrowed brows. 

“My friends call me Ale” 

“Is that what you want us to be? Friends?” You know you are pushing a little bit but this was a date. You were trying to find out if Alexia asks her friends out on dates. 

She bashfully shakes her head which causes you to nod yours. This ends with both of you having shy smiles on your faces. 

“Try it. It will be one of the best muffins you taste in your life” it was a bold statement but you stood by it. You had eaten a couple of these during the last two weeks and you had a huge sweet tooth so you felt qualified to rank the sweet treat. 

When Alexia takes a bite her eyes widen, heR head tips back and you know she agrees with you. The grin that spread across her face when she looks at you is adorable. 

“That’s so good” 

She then takes another bite before taking it out of your hands and holding it out for you to have a bite. 

Time seems to run away from you because the couple of hours that you had planned to spend together pass by and before you know it the sun is setting in the sky. 

You wanted to squeeze every second out of the night but you remember Alexia telling you that the team was flying back to Spain the following morning. 

“I’m this way” you point in the direction for where you were staying. 

“I’m that way” Alexia does the same and of course her hotel is in the opposite direction “come with me” she tilts her head on the same direction. 

“Is that a question or?” You joke with her. She could have been asking or telling you, you didn’t mind. 

“Well you gave me this” she holds up your pin “you swap them, no?” 

You nod your head with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Alexia said she didn’t have a pin. Did she mean that she didn’t have one with her. 

“So come with me and get your gift” Alexia, for the first time that day, sounded truly confident. 

She lead you down the streets of Paris. Like last night the two of you began talking but in person it got a lot more personal. You talked about the hurdles you both had to overcome in order to compete at the Paris Olympics and to do so at the highest level. 

Soon enough Alexia is grabbing your hand and pulling you into one of the 5 star hotels located in the heart of the city. You expected her to drop your hand when you enter the reception area only she doesn’t. The act fills your stomach with butterflies. 

When you enter the elevator and Alexia scans her room key you realise that she must be taking you to her room. 

She opens the door and heads straight for her luggage. 

“I was too nervous to re-read our messages. I thought I might have said something embarrassing. If I had remembered that I asked for your pin them I would have brought you this” 

She held up a red Spain jersey, her jersey. 

“Is this-“ 

“From the gold medal match? Yes. It’s the shirt I wore during the first half” 

“Alexia, I cannot accept this. It should be framed or given to your mother, not to a stranger” you immediately give her the shirt back. 

“I want to give it to you. Today has been one of the best days I’ve had a long while” you give her a look and she knows exactly what you’re thinking “one of the best days off the pitch” 

She holds it out for you to take. At first you don’t, you can’t. Alexia doesn’t budge and you honestly think she will hold out that shirt for hours if that’s how long it took for you to accept it. 

In the end you do grab the shirt but you also grab her hand and pull her close to you. You lean in and kiss her softly on her lips. Just as you are about to pull back, Alexia pulls you in for another kiss. 

“Now you’ve had everything you wanted” you say with a smirk of your face. 

“I don’t understand” the Spanish says. 

“Last night you told me you wanted three things. The first two you told me straight away and the third you told me just before we said goodnight” 

Still, Alexia was at a loss. You told her what she said she wanted and it was only two things. She is about to ask you what the third one was but then she sees you running your index finger over your lips and it clicks. 

“I told you I wanted to kiss you?” Alexia couldn’t believe what she had confessed to you. She would have felt embarrassed to admit just after spending the day with you, never mind last night when you were practically strangers. 

You nod your head. 

“What if I told you I wanted to kiss you again?” Alexia asks only this time she owns her question. 

“I’d tell you to come over here and get what you want” 

You didn’t need to tell Alexia twice. She strutted over to you with the most confidence you have seen her with that day. She cupped your face and pulled you in. The kiss was a little bit deeper that the first kiss. You slowly push Alexia back until her knees buckle against the foot of the bed. 

She doesn’t make an effort to push you off her. If anything she encourages the passion and you are happy to oblige. Both you and Alexia fought for dominance but ultimately you don’t get to find out how would come our victorious. 

The sound of a keycard been swiped has you both frozen in place but still neither of you make any effort to move. It’s as if the person of the other side of the door won’t see the two of you if you are still.  

“ALEXIA!” 

It seems the the woman who you are still straddling recognises the voice before you do. 

“Por dios” Alexia, whose hands are resting dangerously low on your back, taps you signalling for the two of you to get up. 

When you turn around you see Jenni standing in the door only she is joined by a different player than she was with this morning. 

“Nice to see you again Jenni. Nice to meet you….” 

“Misa” the keeper introduces herself “you’re Y/N Y/L/N?” 

The Madrid keeper also admired you only she was bold enough to tell her team mates she has a crush on you. Knowing this information is enough to wake the green eyed monster within Alexia. 

“Yes, she is. Sorry about those two. I did text them asking for them to message me when they were on their way back” Alexia apologises for the interruption. 

“We did! Look” Jenni shows Alexia the 5 text messages she sent her and then shows that she even tried to called her twice 

“Let them off Ale. We were pre-occupied” the smirk that tugs on your lips in enough to heat up Alexia’s cheeks. 

The four of you stand in the hotel room waiting for someone else to speak first. In the end a text from your manager makes you be the one to break the short silence. 

“I need to go” 

“No” Alexia whispers. 

“It’s late and you have a flight to catch in the morning” you move closer to her “thank you for an amazing day Alexia and thank you for this” you hold up her jersey. 

“When can I see you again?” The two of you lived in different countries and had very gruelling schedules but Alexia wanted to know that today wouldn’t be the last time she saw you. 

“You’re in America in the next couple of weeks. I’ll see if I can make it to one of the games so keep an eye out in the crowd” you kiss her softly on the lips. 

“Will you be wearing my jersey?” 

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see” 

[nottyoursbutmine]

cruel summer | t.n

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff soulmate reader

the one where nott and Y/N never wanted a soulmate. so why can’t they stop thinking about each other after they agree to never talk about it again?

this is my first writing and you can totally tell. it’s super long for no reason so pls be nice. it has 3 OC in hufflepuff. totally wrote this overnight so I rushed the ending can you tell?

cruel summer - taylor swift

—

You’re listening to your best friend, Sophia, as you’re walking towards the Great Hall. For the past two weeks she has been ranting about the same thing, Blaise Zabini, her soulmate.

As she’s going on about the colors of trees, our uniforms, and flowers you can’t help but space off. They met while being paired up during Potions and spoke their first soulmate words to each other. She has always wanted to meet her soulmate and ever since then, she’s been happier than ever.

You have never wanted to meet your soulmate. The thought of being trapped down and having children will not be your future.

“Are you even listening to me?” Sophia asks.

“Oh, um…of course I was, Blaise is perfect, the sky is magical?” You say with uncertainty. You’re arriving at the Great Hall and approach your table to sit down.

She gives you a look and says, “No, you know exactly what I was saying…please Y/N!”

“Can I just ask why is this so important to you? I mean, it’s not as if we would have anything in common. Slytherin do not make friends with Hufflepuffs,” you say with a straight face. Compared to her always happy demeanor, you were the type of girl who looked at the glass half empty. Not to say you weren’t kind to everyone you met, but you were a realist.

“I have been trying to introduce you to Blaises’ friends since we met… please?” As she sits across from you at the table, she gives you her biggest smile, one that you can never say no to.

As you pick at your food, you finally give in. “Okay, fine but we have to invite the rest of the girls.”

She squeals, leans over the table and gives you a hug. You’ve never been one for physical contact but you’ve been friends with Sophia since diapers, so you do your best and pat her back.

-

You’re sitting on your bed with your curtains drawn staring at the words on your wrist, thinking about the power they hold. Your entire future is determined by your first words with a stranger. The words were harsh, feeding into your whole ‘wanting to be alone,’ thing. You wonder what their words say.

Seeing colors is something you have also always wondered about. What are the colors of your eyes and hair? What is the color green and why does it make nature look so beautiful? What about flowers? And the color of your clothes?

However, does spending forever with someone you didn’t get to choose sound worth it? You have heard stories of colors fading for people who have lost their soulmate or chosen to be alone, you wonder if that’s true.

You hear the door burst open and Sophia say, “Okay, get ready everyone! We’re going to the Slytherin common room.”

You pull your curtains back, then look at Violet and Ariana, Violet lets out a small laugh from her bed and says “What?”

“Yup! We are meeting Blaise, Riddle, Nott, Berkshire, and Malfoy in 1 hour,” Sophia says, “so you all better start getting ready.”

You all get up with a groan as you get up and all go into the bathroom to get ready. You decide to put on a warm sweatshirt/sweats set because it’s cold out and blowout your hair. You exit the bathroom and all make your way out of the Hufflepuff house.

Walking to the Slytherin common room seemed faster than it should have been. Sophia talked most of the way, assuring us that this will be fun. She always seemed to be the positive one in our group. She states that the guys are nicer in person and only look scary from afar or something like that.

As you get closer you see Zabini waiting outside. Sophia walked towards Blaise, greeting him with a kiss. “Blaise, these are my friends, Violet, Ariana and Y/N.”

He shakes Violet’s and Ariana’s hand, trying to make a good first impression on his soulmates friends and as he extends his hand towards you and Sophia stops him, “Y/N doesn’t touch.”

You feel your heart get warm, you didn’t know how you were going to get out of that awkward situation. She knows you so well, you just give her a small smile as a thank you.

He just chuckles and says, “Exactly like someone else I know. Okay, c’mon the guys are inside.” As you walk in you can’t help but look around, even though you can’t see colors, the Slytherin common room has always been famously talked about and you wanted to know what the fuss was about.

You see Berkshire sitting on an armchair, reading a book. Malfoy is sitting on the floor with his back to the couch and he’s doing homework on the table. Riddle laying on a couch and Nott laying on the couch across from him talking you think about Herbology.

“Girls, these are the guys, right there is Malfoy. Right there is Riddle, over there is Nott, and there is Berkshire.” Zabini says pointing over at them without looking, without caring. It made you internally laugh.

Your eyes glaze over the boys and you just give them a smile. The girls give the boys their biggest smile and say hello, Ariana even goes as far as to give her famous flirtatious hugs. Not that you are judging, these guys are attractive.

Nott and Riddle sit down on the couches to make room for you girls. You sit next at the end of the couch to the left of Violet, who’s in the middle sitting next to Riddle. Ariana is sitting across from you, to the right of Sophia. Sophia is sitting next to Zabini, who’s finally sitting next to Nott at the very left. Berkshire is hadn’t moved from his place in the arm chair and Malfoy had collected his homework, but was still sitting on the floor.

The usual topics come by, grades, hate for the teachers, holidays, and the usual family drama. “Okay let’s get real, has everyone here met their soulmate?” Ariana asks.

Berkshire begins to rant about his soulmate, one that everyone knew he had. It was nice to hear him say those sweet words about her.

Malfoy rolls his eyes and says, “Doesn’t everyone already know the answer to this question? It’s not as if this school doesn’t spread the word as soon as it happens.”

Riddle laughs looking over at him, “You’re just upset because Granger is mad at you right now.”

“I don’t know why you don’t go apologize to her like I’ve been saying, staying here isn’t going to help her forgive you,” Berkshire says.

“He’s right, you need to man up and go to her dorm,” Nott speaks up, “if you don’t she’ll be pissed forever man.”

Malfoy looks like he wants to kill all his friends as he gets up and storms out of the common room, assumingely on his way to the Gryffindor house.

Malfoy, Berkshire, and Zabini are the only ones in the group who have found their soulmates, leaving Riddle and Nott to find theirs.

As everyone but Nott and you answer the question, the tension shifts. “So Y/L/N, have you found your soulmate?” Riddle asks, a hint of suggestiveness in his voice.

All eyes fall on you, “Um...No, I haven’t, but I don’t want to either, so…” you say trailing off.

“You don’t want to? Sounds familiar. Can we ask why you don’t want to?” He pries while glancing to the side, at something or someone. You’re not sure if you imagine it but everyone leans in closer, except for Nott of course, who’s sitting against the couch, eyes not leaving you.

“Well, let’s just say, I’m not going to let some words, colors, and a stranger determine a future I have already envisioned for myself, one that does not have a soulmate,” you have the straightest face and you’re not sure if it’s just your natural face or if you’re just annoyed by all these questions.

The boys sit in silence as they all give each other looks to your answer, however Nott is just staring at you and for some reason you’re afraid to look his way.

It seems like the night has ended with what you said and you decide you need to leave to room immediately. “Okay well, if that’s all I’m going now…I have to go to the library to finish my homework.”

Violet and Ariana follow you out, Sophia stays behind to spend more time with Zabini. As you’re walking you feel eyes burning into the back of your head.

-

Heading back to your common room from the library alone before curfew was a usual trip for you. The dark, empty corridor never scared you, it actually brought you peace. Ariana was the only one who preferred to study with you, but today she wanted to rest.

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night

While turning a corner you trip over something you don’t see, hands wrap around torso preventing you from falling. You drop your books and loose papers on the ground. You immediately push yourself away from the person holding you up.

It’s so dark out, you can’t see the tall figure, however, as you bend over to pick up everything you dropped, his shoes look expensive.

And so you do what you do best, apologize,“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Than-”

You feel the person slightly freeze but not enough for you to process it, “My god, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Now it’s your turn to freeze. You’re afraid to look up, you’re afraid to even move. All of a sudden everything is different, you understand what Sophia means when she says the lights are yellow and actually do light up the night. You look at your clothes and see your yellow set. Everything yellow.

You’re not even sure why but you thought you had more time to find them. You’ve collected all your things and you’re still there staring at the ground. How are you supposed to tell this guy you’re not interested?

As you stand up, you stare into the eyes of Theodore Nott and you’re not sure what you feel. His eyes are so brown, his hair is so brown and he looks so attractive in his Slytherin uniform.

You’re both just standing staring at each other and you’re not sure what to say to him. Should you rip the bandaid off?

“Okay so, I don’t want you and you don’t want me, right? Let’s just pretend this never happened,” he has the straightest face ever.

You’re grateful he said it first so you didn’t have to but you’re not sure why you’re heart skipped a beat, almost like his words hurt you. “Okay.”

You’re not sure what else to say and you’re also not sure why your heart is now beating so hard in your chest. The colors don’t even matter anymore, what only matters to you now is that he’s in front of you and that he was just in front of you a few hours earlier, yet you never spoke one word to each other.

You thought the conversation was over, you thought he would walk away. He clears his throat, “Okay well then, let’s shake on it,” he says as he extends his hand out to you without looking away from your eyes.

You look at his hand and in a beat place your hand in his, slowly shaking it. “So we agree to not tell anyone,” looking back in his eyes. Your heart starts beating faster and your mind starts racing. You pull your hand back and say, “Goodbye then,” you walk away and don’t look back.

-

Ariana wakes you up the next morning, saying something about almost being late for breakfast.

As you get up, enter the bathroom to get ready and put your uniform on, you curl your hair and put it in a ponytail with side pieces out.

As you exit the bathroom you see Sophia sitting on her bed. “What do you all say about sitting with Blaise and the boys for breakfast this morning?” she says with a grin.

Ariana claps her hands together, jumping up and down, “That would be so fun. Last night was so fun!” Throughout the night she became good friends with the boys by gossiping about the teachers and student drama in the school.

Violet gives Sophia a small smile, “I think that would be nice.”

All eyes turn to me, I roll eyes in sarcasm, “Okay, let’s just go or all the blueberry muffins will be gone and you know how I feel about that.”

-

You follow Sophia to the Slytherin table and as the boys see you all approach, you see Zabini say something to them, making them scoot over. Sophia casually sits next to Zabini at the end of the table. You sit down first, scooting over for Ariana and Violet. Riddle is to your right, Nott directly across from you, and Violet to your left.

You immediately begin looking around for a blueberry muffin but don’t see one, the only one you see is on Notts plate. So you go for the second best option, banana bread.

“Aw we were too late? I’m sorry hun. Tomorrow will be better,” Sophia says with her positive attitude. You give her a smile and try to not continue the conversation.

“Late for what?” Riddle asks with a mouth full of food.

“Nothi-”

“Y/N loves her blueberry muffin for breakfast,” Violet says as if it’s the biggest secret in the school. You shrug because it’s true, there’s nothing better to start your day off with.

“Here then.” Nott holds out his plate offering you his muffin. The guys give him a look as if he just told them he’s joining the circus.

“No, it’s yours,” you say, giving him the exact same look.

He pushes the plate closer to you, “Take the damn muffin if you’re going to be complaining about it.”

The energy has completely changed, “Woah man, what the hell?” Berkshire says, sitting to Notts left.

Your eyes narrow at him, push the plate away and in your calmest voice say, “I didn’t complain about any damn thing, you’re getting hysterical Nott. Why don’t you calm down?”

And with that, he storms out of the Great Hall leaving his friends to question exactly what happened.

You’re left staring at where he was sitting, hurt in your chest but you both made this decision. And if you bleed he’ll be the last to know.

-

It’s been two weeks since you have found Nott, two weeks since you’ve been trying your best to avoid him, and two weeks since you’ve been failing at it.

You’re sitting in the library with Cedric working on your project. You’ve been working for hours and for hours Nott and Berkshire have been sitting in your line of view doing ‘homework.’ You turn back to Cedric, this grade is more important than some boy.

For some reason, Nott can’t look away from you. His mind is going crazy knowing you’re avoiding him. He’s the one who made this decision, why can’t he get you off his mind?

He thinks about the first words you spoke to each other and regrets being so harsh towards you, he wonders if you hate him for that. He wonders if the words on your skin have taunted you forever and if that’s truly why you don’t want a soulmate.

Colors haven’t faded for him, probably because he keeps following you, trying to be close to you. The color of your hair and eyes, your after school outfits. Your smile and the way you tilt your head back when you laugh. He cannot look away from you.

Berkshire realizes Nott isn’t paying attention to him at all, turning around to see what he’s staring at. “Merlin, is she your soulmate or something?”

Notts heart skips a beat, “What are you talking about? O-Of course she’s not,” trying his best to play it off.

Berkshire gives Nott a look, “You constantly follow her around, you threatened Cedric to not make a move even though he has a soulmate, you always save a blueberry muffin at breakfast in case she sits with us, you always-”

“Are you a detective or something?” Nott says narrowing his eyes.

“Listen, I just think that, if you have something to say…you should say it before it’s too late. I should go, I’m meeting Olivia but…think about it,” he says as he gets up leaving to meet his soulmate, a glint in his eyes.

“Wait,” Nott stops Berkshire, “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I promise.”

As he sits there waiting for you to finish with Cedric, the words Berkshire said can’t leave his mind. Cedric’s soulmate walks up to the table with a smile greeting Y/N, his arrival makes Cedric get up and says goodbye to you.

Nott takes this opportunity to walk up to your table and simply sit down across from you, taking Cedric’s former seat. You simply stare at him, not knowing what to say. His eyes are so brown, his hair looks so soft, and his sweater looks so warm you just want to reach over and feel every part of him.

You’re both staring at each other in silence, both afraid to make the first move, your heart is beating so fast and you can’t think of a single thing to say to him.

He takes a deep breath, looks in your eyes and says, “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now but I can’t stop thinking about you and colors are brighter when you’re in the room, I need to see your smile and hear your laugh everyday or else I- I can’t think about anything else and you seem so okay but I-”

To say you’re in shock is an understatement, you’re afraid to open your mouth unsure of what will come out. You reach over the table and hold his hand in an attempt to calm him down, “I’m not okay,” you say looking down at your hands as he starts drawing circles, “I think about you all the time, it’s exhausting.”

“I never thought finding my soulmate would feel like this, I never thought choosing my own path would be the wrong option.” You give him your biggest smile and he stares at you with a glint in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “So, how should we go on about this? Do we tell everyone now?”

You let out a nervous chuckle, “How about we start to get to know each other first?”

“I already know everything about you. You love blueberry muffins, cats, you don’t have a favorite flower because they’re too hard to choose from, you don’t drink your drink until after you finish eating, you hate people who chew with their mouth open, you-”

“Okay! Wow, you really do know me. Have you been purposefully following me?” You say in a teasing tone, your heart warming at the fact that your soulmate knows you, the real you.

You see his cheeks heat up and his head lower, “What? No! Uh-no, I-”

“Nott,” you say pulling your hands back from his, giving him a small smile, “I’m just joking around.”

He grabs your hands back pulling them into his, the warmth of his hands helping with the cold of the library. “It’s Theo.”

Your cheeks warm up, “It’s Y/N.”

-

It’s been a week since the conversation in the library and having a soulmate was better than you have ever heard. Theo and you haven’t gone further than holding hands in secret and sharing pecks on the cheeks and the corner of each other’s mouth. It has been excruciating holding back from kissing him, but you want him to make the first move.

For the past week, you woke up early in the morning to meet with Theo before breakfast. You told your friends you went to the library to get some extra study hours in. For some reason, they never questioned you and you never questioned that.

They don’t know you meet Theo in either The Room of Requirement or an empty classroom and just talk about anything and everything. Before it was blueberry muffins and now this is the best way to start your days.

This morning you’re laying on the couch in the Room of Requirement with him on top of you as you play with his hair in silence. “Can I admit something to you?”

“Of course you can,” you say furrowing your brows.

He looks up, grinning like a devil, causing you to stop playing with his hair. “I tripped you. When we met, I saw you walking, I saw you in your mind and for some reason I just wanted to…touch you. Which I knew I needed to do because I’ve never felt that way. I’ve never wanted to feel someone’s skin against mine. I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you.” His voice getting deeper as he talks and your heart beating faster as the air grows thick with something you’re unfamiliar with.

You can’t look away and your skin is burning. Was it always so hot in here? You don’t know what to say. His eyes are so brown, the brown you love. You only have one thing to say, “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate, holding himself up with his right hand so you’re laying underneath him. He grabs your jaw with his left hand and immediately places his lips on yours. The kiss starts off gently, with you running your fingers through his hair, as you pull on it he immediately begins deepening the kiss, his left hand now cupping the back of your head pulling on your hair.

-

Typically when walking towards the Great Hall with Theo, you both arrive before anyone and walk to your separate tables, waiting for your friends without suspicion. However this time, with everything that happened, you two were a little late.

You both arrive at the Great Hall and see your friends sitting together, giving you both looks as if they’ve been expecting you. Now your mind is racing with probabilities. Is your shirt ruffled? Is your hair out of place? Are Theo’s buttons unbuttoned? Is Theo’s hair ruffled?

Theo and you sit down seats away from each other as casual as you can as if that would be less suspicious. You serve yourself breakfast, ignoring the silence and obvious topic you’re trying to avoid.

Riddle scoffs, “Okay, I’m tired of this, when are you two going to tell us?” He says looking only at Theo.

“What are you talking about?” Theo says, furrowing his brows feigning confusion.

Ariana speaks up, “Y/N, we really thought you would tell us if anything happened.”

“I understand why you wouldn’t but finding your soulmate is something massive that you needed time to process-”

You cut Sophia off, “Soulmate? So you all know then.”

“We know.” They all say in unison.

“Wait, how? Besides Berkshire who promised not to tell…” Theo said.

“Wait Berkshire figured it out?” You ask.

Berkshire nods his head as he says, “Oh c’mon it was so obvious. He was stalking her, obsessed with blueberry muffins, his mood would change when she was around, he switched seats to be near her, guys around her would suddenly not be-”

Theo narrows his eyes, “Okay, you could’ve stopped a long time ago. We get it.”

You look at your friends, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, it was all just complicated.”

They all look at each other and Violet smiles, “We get it Y/N, we all noticed you’ve been happier too.”

Ariana adds in a teasing tone, “Plus you two weren’t that secretive walking back to the dorms before curfew. I must say though, you actually looked cute, his arm around your shoulder.”

Your cheeks warm up, the fact that they know and it’s now official, setting in.

You turn to Theo, finding him already staring at you. You immediately give him a smile and look into his eyes, his eyes are so brown, the brown you love. He smiles back and-

“Yuck! You two are disgusting, I’m trying to eat my breakfast here,” Malfoy says.

“Alright Theo, let go,” you say getting up from the table ready to get away, “we’ll see you guys later.”

“Theo?” All the boys say in unison.

Theo intertwines your fingers together, glad he doesn’t have to hide you two anymore. “Just keep walking,” he says. However as he leads you out of the Great Hall you don’t miss the teasing “Aw’s” coming from your friends.

He leads you out of the Great Hall, into an empty classroom. He closes the door after you enter and presses you up against the door. He holds your face in his hand, “Please tell me they didn’t scare you off.”

You tilt your head back while laughing, “Of course not.” You peck his lips and pull back too fast for his liking.

“Good because, for whatever it’s worth…I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” He says looking down at you with a shy smile.

You wrap your arms around his neck, shaking your head, “I love you,” pulling him down so your lips could meet.

You pull back and stare into his eyes, his brown eyes, the brown you love so much.

—

send any requests you would like thank you

I totally edited this after I posted

I know theo doesn’t have brown eyes btw it’s more of a reader(me) thing thanks

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

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[ashwhowrites]

Can you do one where Eddie and the reader are in a secret relationship and Eddie wants to make it public but the reader doesn’t and he feels insecure about it but in reality the reader doesn’t want him to get picked on.They get into a big fight but they make up please and thank you 💖💘

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Ending isn't proofread whatsoever

To be ready

Y/N and Eddie agreed to keep their relationship a secret for the beginning. They wanted to date and get to know each other without everyone getting in their business.

Eddie struggled with it once they reached their five month anniversary. He felt like it was long enough and he was ready to express his feelings for her with no shame. Y/N was a little bit more nervous but she agreed, it felt like the right time.

"You ready?" Eddie asked, the smile on his face full of excitment. Her heart warmed knowing how badly he wanted to show her off, and their relationship. This was going to be their first public moment, and the first time he will introduce her to his band.

She gripped his hand, nerves filling her body. "Yes," she smiled, even though she was terrified. All she had to do was meet new people, it couldn't go that bad, right?

He walked them through the back of the bar, a small gig for the band. He walked into the small backroom and she slipped in behind. She saw a group of some boys and girls, all talking.

"Well, look who finally showed up. And not alone," one of the guys said, teasing Eddie. Eddie's face responded in a blush.

"Gareth, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Baby, this is Gareth, one of my best friends."

Y/N released his hand to kindly shake Gareth's hand.

"It's nice to meet you," Gareth replied.

She met the rest of the band, and the band's girlfriends. Or groupies, if she was honest. A few gave her dirty looks and it made her nervous. She couldn't help but notice how opposite she was from them. Their clothes were different, the way they talked and carried themselves.

Once the show started, the boys went on stage and the girls joined the crowd. Y/N was in awe watching her boyfriend perform. She forgot about all the girls, just focused on him. As the show ended, she excused herself to the bathroom.

She headed back out to the crowd. Everyone was spacing out now that the entertainment was done. She spotted the girls from earlier waiting by the back doors, where the band would be. She headed over to join them as they waited.

"How long do you think they've been together?"

"Who knows, but I would've kept her hidden. She is so not his type," the three girls snickered. Y/N frowned as it was clear they were talking about her.

"I know! I'm not sure how she managed to pull that off"

"She must have a great personality"

"Isn't he worried she's going to ruin his whole sexy rockstar look? She'll only bring him down. He should be with someone as attractive as he is"

Y/N felt a lump in her throat. She began to second guess the whole thing. They let a few people know and everything she feared that would happen was happening. Eddie was getting looked down on because of her.

Insecurity and anxiety filled her. She felt much less ready to share their relationship with more people. She was back craving their nights alone in his bed, where no one had thoughts on them. As the girl's laughter began to get louder, she ran out.

She grounded herself against the wall, inhaling the smoke as a few people blew their cigarettes. The door opened and she saw her boyfriend looking around, with worry in his eyes. Once his eyes landed on her, his gaze softened.

"There you are, what's wrong?" he asked, as he got closer he noticed her tears. She sniffled and wiped her face, a fake smile sent his way.

"Nothing! I just needed some air," she said but Eddie gave her a look.

"Fine," she sighed, "I'm second-guessing telling people about us."

"It's been an hour. We have to try longer than that before giving up," he argued. She feared where the conversation would go knowing Eddie had been growing more annoyed as the months went by.

"I know, but those girls...I'm not like them, Eddie."

"No one said you had to be, all you have to do is be yourself. Let's go in, have a drink, and try," he said holding out his hand.

"I don't feel ready for that, Eddie. I'm sorry. I thought I could do this but I can't." She flinched as Eddie's face hardened. He puffed air out of his nose and rubbed a hand over his face.

It was clear he was agitated, and she felt horrible for causing it.

"When will you be?" Eddie snapped, his force harsher than he intended. "Six months? A year?"

"I don't know," she said as she rubbed her temples. She hated the way she felt and how hard everything felt.

"Do you even want to be with me?" he asked, his face falling. His words were much softer, a little more broken.

"Of course I do!" Y/N gasped, moving closer as he cupped his face in her hands.

"Then why can't you tell other people that?" he looked up at the sky as he tried to keep his emotions back. But the familiar feeling of not being good enough was creeping in.

"I can, Eddie. But dating me, telling people, I've been scared people will pick on you. And I was right! Those girls said everything I feared," she explained. She figured her honesty would help him understand but she gulped when he stepped back and removed her hands from his face.

"Y/N, I've been picked on all my life. I don't give a shit about what people have to say, and you shouldn't either," Eddie explained.

"I don't think I can just ignore it!" Y/N exclaimed, "their words have weight. I'm not like you, I can't shove away people's opinions and thoughts about me and us."

"I think we have different mindsets of being in this relationship," Eddie whispered, he feared he couldn't talk louder without a sob breaking through.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm in this relationship to be with you, to love you and be happy with you. The only person I care about is you, the only person's that thoughts matter to me is you. You can't say the same." Y/N panicked at his words. The look in his eyes and the goodbye tone in his voice.

"But I do!" she tried to argue

Eddie laughed bitterly and scoffed. She moved passed the way his reaction snapped her heart in half. "You don't care about me. If you did, you wouldn't be breaking us up."

"YOU ARE!" Y/N yelled, tears building in her eyes.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE A SECRET!" Eddie yelled back. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. "You're worried about how others will treat me because of you? What about you? What about how you're treating me. You know all I want is for us to be together, no secrets and no shame. And you can't get over yourself to give me that."

"I understand I'm hurting you but can't you understand where I'm coming from? I tried Eddie and I realized I need more time, why can't you give me time?" she argued, her tears turning hot and angry.

"I've given you time, way damn more time than I would have ever needed," Eddie sighed. "Once you feel ready, maybe we'll figure it out."

She covered her mouth as she let out a small cry. Her heart pounded as she took in his heartbroken state. "Are we breaking up?" She whimpered.

Eddie nodded as he tucked his lip into his mouth. He put his hands in his pockets as a way of comfort. "Yeah, baby. We are."

Y/N bit her lip to silence her cries as Eddie walked back into the bar. She wanted to run after him and beg for him to stay. But he was right, he deserved someone better.

She blinked back as many tears as she could and walked to the nearest bus station. She sat on the bus, alone and crying, her heart wishing nothing more than to be in Eddie's van with his hand on her thigh.

~~~

With the summer heat, Y/N felt more miserable. She felt suffocated in her room, with too many memories of Eddie. And she couldn't escape outside without a sunburn.

It's been a long month of nothing from Eddie. Which made sense, he wasn't chasing her. She was chasing him. She was the one who had to make the move. She knew the longer she took to figure it out the faster he would run.

As she stared at her ceiling fan, she wondered if any of it was worth it. She's never felt this much pain in her life, and she was the cause of all of it. She had the power to fix it and she was wasting time.

She was getting sick of herself. Hating herself for what she did and continued to do. She missed him, and might even love him.

Eddie tried to seem like the world didn't crash on him. Tried to smile and act like he wasn't falling apart on the inside. But in reality, Eddie couldn't stand being alone. Her scent followed him everywhere and he missed the feeling of her. He missed her hands, her kiss, her body, everything. But he couldn't go back, she needed to come to him. He hoped that she realized her mistake, that this week of silence was her finding out how to come back.

The show ended and Eddie could hear his thoughts again. Not wanting to, he headed to the bar. He sat down on the stool with a heavy sigh and ordered a beer.

"Still pouting about her?"

Eddie turned as a girl's voice talked into his ear. He rolled his eyes as he looked back at his beer.

"Leave me alone,," Eddie sighed. He definitely wasn't in the mood. But she didn't listen. Instead, she dragged the barstool out and took a seat next to him.

"You're too good for her, anyway. She should have been delighted to have you on her arm," the random girl said.

Eddie eyed her weirdly, having no idea how the news of his ex-secret girlfriend began spreading. But he shook it off and went back to his beer. She talked his ear off for around an hour. Eddie was on his fifth beer as he tried to zone out the noise.

Y/N walked into the bar, feeling uneasy as the last time she was here went horribly. She scanned the crowd, her eyes easily finding him, but he wasn't alone.

A girl was seated beside him, way too close for Y/N's comfort. She was perched up, talking in his ear. Y/N's plan was to have a conversation but the jealousy overpowered everything. She was glad to see that Eddie wasn't entertaining the girl.

Eddie felt his body being spun around on his stool in a flash. Sudden arms wrapped around his neck and soft lips on his. He was surprised to see the lips belonged to Y/N. He instantly kissed back, enjoying the force of her lips against his.

She held on to him as if he was going to disappear. Her heart raced when his arms circled around her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her body to stand between them. She moaned as his tongue slipped inside her mouth, making her warm all over.

They pulled away, and Eddie couldn't wipe the smile off of his face.

"What was that?" He asked, he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or her that made his head feel dizzy.

"I'm ready. And I'm sorry for not being ready when you needed me to be. But I can't imagine my life without you. I love you and I want us to be together, no shame or secrets." Y/N said, she turned her head and saw the girl had vanished. She looked back at him, their bodies tangled.

"I love you too, baby," his lips smashed on hers. Knocking the air out of her lungs, but she liked the way it burned.

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