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dancingbirdie · 8 months

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Oh look it's me with another Astarion fic, what a concept.

This is the next part in my Astarion series called The Planets Bend Between Us (title taken from Snow Patrol's song). Part 1 (flashback) and Part 2 can be found by clicking on those links!

Everything is also posted on Ao3 - link to that here!

Find Me, Here

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Word Count: 2.2K

Tags/Warnings: SMUT FREE FLUFF, non-sexual body worship, angst, trauma/trauma responses/trauma recovery

Suggested Song Pairing: The Light by The Album Leaf

They had begun sleeping together. There was no sex involved, or even suggested. Despite their mutual desire for one another, both had agreed to take this slow. Both had their demons to reckon with when it came to… relationships. The concept was foreign to both of them. They needn’t rush into things more than they had.

But Astarion and Tav had agreed that sleeping was innocuous enough. They could be together without being together. At least for the time being.

No one in the camp seemed too surprised by the development. It had started the night of Astarion’s confession, after the events that had transpired with Gale’s spell, after the revelation of Tav’s true intentions. She had forgiven Gale for the part he had played in all of it, although that decision hadn’t had much to do with the verbose apology she’d immediately received from him. No, it was mostly due to one certain pale elf with whom she’d reentered the camp.

She hadn’t said anything to the rest of the party when they returned. They had all seen what had happened prior to her rushed departure. She didn’t feel like rehashing it, or catching them all up to speed on the conversation that had followed. Instead she went directly to her bedroll, grabbed it by one of the corners, and dragged it determinedly toward Astarion’s tent. He was already there, waiting for her, watching her with an amused grin. She quirked a brow.

“Care to make some room in there?” she asked him bluntly.

Astarion curled his mouth into a lazy smirk. “Of course, darling,” he returned, drawing aside one tent flap and moving inside to begin rearranging the interior.

Tav nodded to herself before turning to glance at the other party members. They were all observing the show. Some were smiling. Some glaring. Some smirking. She met the eyes of each of them with a sort of sternness. As if to say, not one comment from any of you.

“Goodnight, all,” she said definitively, before turning and joining Astarion in his tent.

A chorus of goodnights floated up behind her.

And that had been that.

***

Tonight she woke to the sound of quiet sobs. Lying on her back, she opened her eyes blearily, taking in the ceiling of the tent. It was dimly illuminated by the light of the moon. Her senses were sluggish, absorbing her surroundings incrementally. She felt blindly with one hand, stretching it out until she made contact with Astarion’s body. His back. He had turned away from her, curled into the fetal position. She clutched him gently.

“Astarion…?” she croaked, her voice thick with sleep.

She heard him sniffle quietly then clear his throat.

“My apologies darling,” he replied. His attempt at a casual tone failed horribly.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

She heard him sigh. Then he shifted to face her. She turned her head to meet his gaze.

“It was a nightmare,” he muttered. “I hadn’t had one since you started sleeping in here, but, well… I suppose they had to resume at some point.”

“About… Cazador?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but his lips trembled, on the verge of another sob. He nodded mutely instead.

“Oh, Astarion, I’m so sorry,” Tav whispered, her heart breaking at the look on his face.

He merely nodded again, too afraid to open his mouth lest another wave of emotion burst forth.

“What can I do - how can I help you?” she asked desperately.

He just looked at her, unsure. He’d never been asked that question before. He hadn’t the slightest clue how she could help him, however much he wanted her to.

“Astarion,” she murmured, interrupting his thoughts. “Can I…” she swallowed, uncertain. “Can I just touch you?”

He stared at her, wide-eyed. She couldn’t discern the emotion on his face.

“Not in that sort of way. I just… well, my mother used to use this trick when I was upset… her touch always calmed me… I thought it may be worth a shot” she trailed off, beginning to seriously regret her forwardness.

Physical touch is obviously a sensitive topic for him, even if it’s not sexual. You complete arsehole! She chastised herself. He literally told you that being with someone still feels tainted. And now you go asking if you can put your lovesick little paws all over him?

“Please,” he managed in a broken whisper. His voice halted her inner cacophony of reprimands and insults. She blinked in surprise.

Tears brimmed his eyes as he looked at her, desperation now clearly written across his face.

She rolled onto her side, scooted closer to him. They faced each other, chest touching chest. She felt his lungs expand with a shaky breath.

Slowly, like she would be approaching a wild animal, she raised a hand toward his face. His eyes tracked her cautious movements. But then they fluttered shut, when her index finger made a gentle sweep across his forehead. She followed the shape of one brow first. Then the other. Smoothing out the distress, stroke by stroke.

“Such strong brows,” she murmured. He jumped a little in surprise at her voice, his eyes opening to observe her. She gave him a gentle smile. “It’s all right,” she soothed.

“They’re darker than your hair color, you know. Still silver, but more like the steel of a sword,” she continued. His eyes slipped shut once more. She thought she caught the slightest tremble of his lips.

“And they’re quite expressive. This one,” she tapped his left brow lightly, “always quirks up when Gale says something absurd. Which is often.”

Astarion huffed a laugh. His cool breath smelled of mint as it washed over her face.

“And they both furrow when Wyll goes all noble Blade of Frontiers on us.” She drew a faint line down the middle of his forehead, over the bridge of his nose. He gave her a tiny smirk.

“But my favorite. My favorite is how they raise up when you’re delighted. Or when you laugh… your whole expression changes. And those brows lead the charge.”

She traced the line of his nose again. “And this nose. So noble. Regal, but not austere. A patrician’s nose. It suits your face perfectly,” she smiled at him, though he couldn’t see.

She swiped delicately over his cheeks, noting how his eyelids fluttered slightly. “High cheekbones. Sharp enough to cut yourself on. Absolutely gorgeous alabaster skin,” she sighed. “Sculptors couldn’t replicate your likeness if they tried.”

Her index finger dipped to his mouth. He swallowed thickly as she traced his upper lip, then the lower.

“A very pleasing mouth, even if it does utter the most deplorable things at times,” she teased softly.

He released a true bark of laughter at that. She could see his fangs glint in the moonlight. But then he quieted, a silent request for her to continue her ministrations.

“Full lips, a perfect cupid’s bow,” she went on. “Utterly swoon-inducing, as I can attest.”

She moved down to his chin, tracing the point of it before grazing back and forth across his jawline.

“Strong jawline and chin. Makes you look quite powerful. Someone who should be paid attention to. Listened to.” He hummed in approval of her commentary.

Her hand slid up to his ear, tracing the tip of it, the elegant point. He shivered slightly but kept his features schooled, his eyes still shut.

“And these ears. Beautifully pointed. Elegant. Refined.”

Then she carded her hand through his hair.

“These curls. Simply gorgeous. Silver, like the moonlight. They almost glow at night when moonbeam touches them. They always look perfect, even in the midst of battle.” He sighed as she massaged his scalp lightly.

“But my absolute favorite…” she whispered after a moment, but then stopped. She moved her hand to cup his cheek.

Astarion blinked his eyes open, curious as to why she had stopped.

“There they are,” she smiled. Her thumb lovingly grazed the hollow under his eye.

“These beautiful eyes. Deep burgundy. They hold so much emotion. So much levity. And sorrow.”

She noted the tears that welled in his eyes once again as she spoke.

“They say eyes are the windows to the soul, you know,” she continued. “Which means I’m seeing such a beautiful, rare soul who lives inside. Marvelous. Incomparable.”

A tear finally fell, plopping onto the pillow beneath his head. Tav gently wiped away the others on his cheek that were racing to follow their leader.

“It’s a privilege to see you,” she finally whispered, smiling softly at him. “A privilege, Astarion. Thank you.”

A quiet sob wrenched from him. He lurched forward to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He clutched her waist desperately.

She held him there. Curled her arm around him. Palmed the back of his head. Held him tight enough to feel protected. Loose enough to know he could break away. If he wanted to. If he needed to.

Eventually, she felt his breathing even out. His inhales and exhales became those of a slumberer. His body relaxed, muscles released from their tension. She continued to hold him, curled as he was into her body. She kissed the top of his head. Her lips remained there as she breathed in his scent.

She fell asleep like that. Locked in his embrace. Surrounded by the comforting smell of bergamot.

***

He hadn’t liked being touched. Physical touch had been reserved solely for the job, per Cazador’s command. It was hard to enjoy something when the only time he had experienced it was while doing something so awful as luring poor souls back to his master.

Perhaps he had enjoyed it in his former life. But that was over two centuries ago. If that person had existed in this body, he didn’t remember them anymore.

But Tav was changing that.

For perhaps the first time in his long, long life he understood what it meant to be touch-starved. The concept had been so foreign to him when he used to hear the bards croon about it in the city squares. Or when reading the drabble that poets had peddled around the Baldur’s Gate artisan guild.

But now, lying here with Tav, he felt he understood those lovesick fools a bit better. She had lulled him to sleep with those blissful caresses. Those touches that asked for nothing. That only gave him everything.

She had awoken something in him, he realized now, in the pale hours of the morning. Something long-buried, something that desperately needed that unassuming affection she gave to him so freely. It was like opium, in the best of ways. It had soothed his pain. Had left only peace in its wake.

They had shifted in their slumber together. He was now on his back, with Tav curled into his side. Her legs and arms were banded around him, tangled in him.

And he… didn’t mind? Didn’t mind at all. In fact, it felt rather amazing. Her warmth radiated into him, creating hotspots in the places her limbs touched. Like his own personal sun.

He stared up at the ceiling of the tent, lost in thought. One hand caressing up her arm, down her waist. Again and again.

***

The tent was getting brighter with morning sunlight when Tav began to stir. She felt Astarion’s hand caressing her skin. The sensation had her humming in delight.

“Hello, you,” he murmured into the crown of her head, sensing she was awake. He planted a chaste kiss there.

“Good morning,” Tav garbled through a yawn. She both felt and heard Astarion chuckle. Then he squeezed her waist firmly.

“Thank you. For last night,” he murmured. “It was a gift.”

“Of course,” she said simply, though the words were filled with affection. She wanted to say more, to tell him she would do anything for him, to promise a thousand touches if it pleased him. But she didn’t want to overwhelm him. He didn’t take grand expressions like that very well. She’d learned that after promising they would defeat Cazador and free him.

And, she reminded herself, bombarding him with affection was not the way to ensure he would stay with her. As much as she cared for him, she didn’t want to fall back on old ways of trying to prevent someone from leaving her. She had told Astarion that she had her own demons she wrestled with. Insecurity was chief among them.

She settled instead on telling him a truth. Vulnerability in exchange for vulnerability.

“I like you touching me like that,” she murmured, feeling a certain shyness about the confession.

Astarion hummed his own approval, continuing to trail his fingers across her skin. “Is that so, darling?”

He became more intentional with his movements. She felt him graze her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder, the dip of her waist, the small of her back. His fingers slid delicately across her skin, painting the places of her body he could reach with his cool touch.

Tav moaned in approval, snuggling up closer to him and closing her eyes once more. “It feels lovely.”

He couldn’t have agreed more wholeheartedly. Touching her felt almost as wonderful as when she’d had her hands on him the night before. And that, within itself, was an incredible revelation.

“It really does,” Astarion agreed after a beat of silence. He smiled faintly to himself. “It really does.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #dancingbirdiewrites #astarion x f!reader #bg3 astarion fic #tav x astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fluff

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hurtspideyparker · 2 months

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Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

#peter parker #spider man #ask #anon #fic rec #spiderman #marvel mcu #spider-man #peter parker angst #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #avengers #iron man #peter parker whump

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jennarations · 9 months

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The Ultimate Lestappen Fic Masterlist ™

Hello all. This list has about 70+ fics within it. That’s just under 1,000,000 words solely dedicated to the Carbonara Leclerc-Verstappens. (yes i counted) I’ve tried to maintain my organization throughout, but if something looks a little janky or feels out of place, let me know. (Lord knows I never made this list thinking I would make it public but alas, here we are) The key is simple:

> (Title) +/= (Multichaptered/One-Shot)

(Summary)

!!! (Link)

• (Tags - please note these are just the tags I saw relevant to myself, double check the fics themselves for any other tags you might deem relevant!) *(Word count)

Now I’ve put a ♥️ next to all of my personal favorites. Remember, this is a masterlist and a fic rec if that’s what you’re looking for. I will never read (or record) any fic that is not up to my personal golden standard; so everything you see below has been read and vetted by yours truly 💋 I will also tag my favorite authors at the bottom of this post so you can go view their pages and send them some love :^) Note: All of these works are on Ao3. There is only one WIP in this list and it is stated with the fic. Now go crazy you animals ;))

(p.s. some of the fic descriptions are quite long, but with respect to the authors wishes I feel that it would be a dishonesty to chop them off though so you’ll have to deal with it) Here we go!!!!!!!! (under the Read More)

> Home (Is Wherever I’m With You) + ♥️

Or: Charles leaves Ferrari, tries to win a championship, and learns some things about belonging. All the while, Max is there.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40801053/chapters/102234501

• Angst, Fluff, Red Bull!Charles *17.9k

> On The Limit = (Series - Objects in the Mirror) ♥️

Two Formula 1 drivers walk into a bar and accidentally have a heart-to-heart.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43252263

• Angst, Heart to Heart *6.8k

> Leave No Space = (Series - Objects in the Mirror)

Max Verstappen fucks men sometimes. Charles struggles to cope.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43505271

• Falling in Love, Charles is depressed, Charles is moving to Red Bull *31.7k

> All To Play For = (End of Series - Objects in the Mirror)

Charles Leclerc is not at Red Bull to win races. He is here to win championships.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46910503

• Nasty Breakup w/ Happy Ending, Charles is so depressed, Pain, Angst, Red Bull!Charles *49.3k

> I Think There’s Been a Glitch = (Series)

or: Max sits on Hüllkenberg’s lap during a press conference. Charles is decidedly Not Normal about it.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46107499

• Teasing, Crush, First Time, Charles POV, Bottom!Max *5.5k

> Room 309 = (End of Series)

or: what happens in room 309

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46397647

• Max’s POV, Smut *8.2k

> Undress Me to the Naked Truth =

or: Charles and Max celebrate post-Austria 2022

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46761448

• Smut, Established Relationship, Bottom!Max *6.8k

> The Rest is Unwritten =

Max ran, like his husbands life depended on it.

Weaving his way around the paddock, murmurs of a black flag and unresponsive boring through the crowds. All he could do was get to Charles.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46203964#main

• Angst, Husbands, Crash *1.5k

> Monaco Malaise = (Series)

Max and Charles have been hooking up for a few months, casually, no string attached — definitely no feelings involved…

The disaster that was Monaco 2021 sees them in Charles’ apartment, with Max having to deal with the fact that Charles can’t get out of his head.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43192021#main

• Smut, Slight Angst, Slight Fluff *8k

> Azerbaijan Abnegation = (End of Series)

After Monaco, Max thought he’d made up his mind about Charles, and their little arrangement.

They’re in Azerbaijan and Charles is everywhere: in his head, in his messages, in his hotel room…

Will Max be able to hold onto his resolve, or will his attempts at self-denial only prolong the inevitable?

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46781737/chapters/117829006#workskin

• Angst, Smut *16.9k

> Ribs =

He wakes up all weird on Monday. Charles can feel it the moment he opens his eyes. It’s like an odd weight on his chest that evolves into something a lot more achy and sharp emanating down his torso as he starts crawling out of bed.

Or: Charles injures himself before the last race of the season. The only option is to power through it.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/44784424#main

• Fluff, Established Relationship, WDC!Charles *2.6k

> You Could Call Me Babe For the Weekend + ♥️

Or: There are lots of ways to love Charles Leclerc, Max maybe learns all of them through the years.

Featuring: puddles, stargazing, unsolicited driving lessons, and the overwhelming fear of growing up.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42042690/chapters/105559215#workskin

• Angst, Teenagers, Falling in Love *12.3k

> Got Your Tongue =

It’s the middle of the night, there’s a stray cat in Charles’ bedroom, and only one person he can think of to help him. The rest is just a misunderstanding.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46854709?view_adult=true#main

• Fluff *2.9k

> Do You Want Me (Dead)? =

When Charles accidentally comes out to Max it shouldn’t really change anything. It doesn’t change anything.

Until it does. In fact, it changes everything.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/44626003#main

• Angst, Pining, Fluff, Happy Ending, FIFA in Suzuka *12.5k

> How to Babygirl-ify Your Boyfriend: A Comprehensive Guide by Charles Leclerc =

Charles sees someone on the internet call Max babygirl. He’s instantly obsessed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45295756?view_adult=true#main

• Smut, Fluff, Bottom!Max *4.5k

> Silly Me (For Falling in Love With You) = ♥️

“We’re not asking you to ‘woo’ him,” Christian says, looking pained at having to say the word ‘woo’, “We just need others to think you’ve wooed him.”

“I’m not following,” Max says, frowning.

“A PR relationship,” Poppy explains. “You pretend to date, making the public think you’re all happy and in love. Then you reap the benefits of being in a relationship without actually having to put in the effort or work.”

“Absolutely not,” Max says, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s depressing, I’m not doing that.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/44464324#main

• Fluff, Angst, Fake Relationship, Non-F1!Charles *18.3k

> Glitch + ♥️

Max hums. “Well, at least that means I won’t bump into Charles Leclerc again.”

“Bummer, really,” Daniel says, moving back to his own seat and drinking the little bit of coffee that was still in the cup. “Could’ve been the start of a great love story.”

Lando snorts. “Kids, it all started when I told your father, who had won two World Driver Championships at that point, that he sucked at driving.”

Max sticks his middle finger up at them, and pulls his noise canceling headphones back over his ears. Only two hours left to go, he thinks, wistfully, and goes back to work.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46316224/chapters/116609527

• Angst, Fluff, Funny, Programmer!Max *26.6k

> Heart On Your Sleeve =

The thing about having a racing helmet that constantly displays your emotions for the whole world to see, is that you kind of get used to it after a while. These days Charles almost forgets it’s even a thing.

Almost.

But then he goes and falls in love.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45717973#main

• Pining, Magical Realism *4.8k

> You Can Hear It In the Silence =

Or, the five times Max and Charles accidentally fall asleep together, and the one time they do it on purpose.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43882683#main

• Pining, Sleep trope, Fluff *7.4k

> You’ll be Alright = ♥️

Charles is not an idiot. He knows there’s a part of him that has been at least a little bit in love with Max for as long as they’ve known each other. But he’s always been able to shove it down. Burying it under rivalries and competitiveness until it was getting hard to differentiate between love and hate. And that had worked, for a really long time.

And then Max had to go and barge into his life and be really fucking cute with his baby.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45348790#main

• Kidfic, Fluff, Slight Angst, Max is great with kids, Falling in Love *19.2k

> Maximum Formula =

“Welcome back to another episode of Maximum Formula, I’m your host, Emilian, and this is the first episode for the F1 2022 season. There will be plenty to talk about, but first I’d like to introduce our first guest of the season: Charles Leclerc. Welcome to the show, Charles.”

Or, Charles tries to become a world champion with Ferrari.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45691483#main

• Angst, Falling in Love, Podcast!Max, Identity Hiding *20.4k

> Violent Delights +

Max can’t smell any of his usual aggression beneath the unusual spatter of Omega, sweet yet violent, and it makes his head spin.

“Max,” is all Charles says, voice breathless. He looks over his shoulder, quick, hasty, looks back. His eyes are wider, if possible. “We have— we have fucked up, I think.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/41445333#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Max, Alpha!Charles turns into Omega!Charles *15.5k

> Petrol =

Max scoffs. He steps closer, smile a little real. It lets Charles see the tiny freckle on his lip, dark and undying, always zoomed in on when his face is in HD. Chuckling, Max scratches at his stubble. “I didn’t know you liked Red Bull.”

Automatically, Charles corrects, “I hate it.” It says too much.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/41359482#main

• Smut, Angst, Denial, Bottom!Max *4.2k

> It All Reminds Me of You =

Pierre turns, and with him, the object of his distasteful frown. “Why do you have a Red Bull cap in your apartment?”

Charles tenses. He looks between Pierre and the cap, still held tepid between two fingers, dark blue and flat-brimmed and garishly branded with a sick sense of obvious. It feels wrong, just looking at it. There’s a big red 1 emblazoned on the front.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40279869#main

• Angst, Smut, Secret Relationship, Switch!Max, Switch!Charles *3k

> Proximity =

These kinds of smiles on Max are reserved for other people. Like Daniel, like Lando, like those Dutch guys that come around sometimes and he likes to yell with.

Not Charles.

It’s probably the fourth time Max is acting noticeably strange around him that he notices the freckle on his lip.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40737591#main

• Angst, Smut *6.7k

> Want It Good Want It All =

When Max puts the disc into the cartridge of his PS4 he isn't sure what to expect.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43761192#main

• Sex tape, Masturbation *2.1k

> Algorithm + ♥️

Tired of all the internal team conflicts, the F1 powers-that-be have developed a simulation-based compatibility test for drivers and their teammates.

Five times Max doesn’t find the right partner and one time he does.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/29561109/chapters/72650025#workskin

• Magical Realism, Compatibility Simulations, Fluff, Slight Angst, Some Maxiel in the beginning *16.9k

> In the Dark You Can’t See Shiny Cars +

In the summer of 2022, the quiet neighbourhood of Les Amants in Monaco becomes the epicentre of a strange weather phenomenon.

A dark cloud hangs over Charles’ head—unfortunately not just a metaphorical one. Max sets out to investigate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/41147001/chapters/103144245

• Magical Realism, Charles accidentally controls the weather, Fluff, Slight Angst *14.5k

> Panem et Circenses =

Panem et circenses, the Romans called it. Bread and circus to appease the people.

The bread is always in short supply these days, ever since the wheat fields burned down. So that just leaves-

“The brave new world of Formula One,” Crofty’s voice comes out distorted from the circuit speakers. “Ten teams. Twenty cars. An auspicious new technical programme that combines the top edge AI technology with the most skilled drivers to deliver the best spectacle ever seen.”

In a dystopian near-future, Charles and Max drive for survival.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40704441#main

• Dystopian future, Sentient F1 cars, oppressive Regime, Hope, Angst, Falling in Love *13.2k

> Every Other Sunday + ♥️

The grainy pictures are pieced together like a crude comic strip, sketching a poorly thought-out narrative arc that somehow made it onto the front page of every sleazy newspaper.

EXPOSED!: The secret gay double-life of F1 driver Max Verstappen

Max navigates the aftermath of being outed in the press, and Charles is always there.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/34827223/chapters/86722561

• Slight Angst, Fluff, Smut, Max has been outed, Charles does some soul searching, Motorhome club, F1 family antics *34.5k

> Soak Up the Sun =

“What do you think?” Charles asks, leaning back into the seat as he turns the laptop so Max can see the options.

“I think—” Max starts, “—that this can wait until after FP1.”

Charles’s lips curl downwards, and Max wants to kiss the look off his face. “There’s still like an hour until it starts. There’s no one even looking for me yet.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Lestappen_Summer_Exchange_2022/works/40998603#main

• Fluff, Non-Linear timeline, Getting together *6.8k

> Like a Prayer =

It was sinful to have such thoughts but then Charles had never been one to shy away from sinful desires. Stood at the alter the priest looked glowing, his strong cheekbones and jawline illuminated by a wash of colour. Charles’ gaze followed the beams of light back to the stained glass, he tried not to think too long about the image of Christ etched on to the window. This was a sacred place, but there could be nothing more deserving of veneration than the God who had so kindly sculpted the body of Father Verstappen.

Charles is an F1 driver and Max is a sexy priest.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Formula_One_Kinkmeme_Round_One/works/44838136#main

• Smut, Religion, Priest!Max *3.2k

> We Go Way Back =

They were the same in the end. Yes, Max was an alpha, and Charles was an omega, but that didn’t matter. If you took racing from either of them, there wouldn’t be anything left.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43936200?view_adult=true#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Max, Omega!Charles, Smut, Fluff *13.8k

> Close Proximity =

A hotel mix-up forces Max and Charles to share a room. There is only one bed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Formula_One_Kinkmeme_Round_One/works/44503150?view_adult=true#main

• Smut, One bed trope *3.5k

> Pens, fingers and most definitely cock ... a random list of things Max likes to put in his mouth =

Max has an oral fixation, Charles is happy to oblige. This is a story of their developing relationship as told through the things Max likes to put in his mouth!

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Formula_One_Kinkmeme_Round_One/works/44205019#main

• Oral fixation kink, Smut, Fluff *2.7k

> FIA Approved Stress Relief =

It’s the strangest briefing Charles has ever been a part of. Ever. Which is saying something because this time last year he was sat wide eyed as the Fia tried to bring in mandatory checks for Fia approved underwear and intimate piercings. A few team principles had helpfully offered their services and it had ended in a rather heated debate over whether that fell under their job description.

It didn’t compare to this though.

As director of the GPDA it’s been left to George to run through the basics of the brand new Fia approved sex doll. Charles was sure he had misheard but no, as it turns out, the Fia really have lost their minds.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Formula_One_Kinkmeme_Round_One/works/44059752?view_adult=true#main

• Sex Doll, Smut, Pining, Voyeurism *2.3k

> Long Live (The Walls We Crashed Through) + ♥️

“What are you doing?” Charles asked, his voice cracking.

Max blinked at him once before he smirked and said, “Well... I was going to kiss you.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?” Charles repeated, feeling like his legs were going to give out.

“Is that not a good enough reason?” Max asked.

OR: The childhood best friends to lovers fairy-tale-soulmates fic that nobody asked for. Charles has been in love with Max since he was seven years old.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46190509/chapters/116284681

• Fluff, Smut, Best friends to lovers, Slight Angst *76.8k

> Viva la Miami =

Max raced all over the world and was used to different climates. But there was something about Miami’s sticky, muggy, make-your-phone-screen-fog-up kind of scorching heat that made him feel fucking crazy.

It made him want to strip naked and jump in the bright blue water surrounding his hotel.

It made him want to fuck.

OR: Max and Charles hook up for the first time, and it's very different than what Max had pictured.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46963513#main

• Smut, PWP, Top!Charles *8.2k

> I’ll Be Right Beside You = ♥️

Max stared at Charles’ closed eyes and how they twitched in his sleep. Objectively, Max knew that Charles was probably the most beautiful man he had ever seen. But... this was Charles.

Charles Leclerc.

Big, cry-baby Charles.

Sauber #2 driver Charles.

When did he decide that Charles The Driver would become Charles The Boyfriend?

He wishes he could remember.

OR: The self-indulgent Amnesia AU that nobody asked for. This is my love story to Charles Leclerc, thank you for coming along. Warning: this fic may break you.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42990660#main

• Amnesia, Graphic Accident, Angst, Pain, Fluff, Smut *50.7k

> Breathe You In (Like a Vapor) =

OR: the self-indulgent story of how Charles and Max fell in love over winter break 2022, in a classic Enemies to Friends With Benefits to Lovers fic that nobody asked for.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45079192?view_adult=true#main

• Smut, Fluff, Falling in Love *53k

> And That’s How I Foksmashed Dad’s Championship Trophy =

All of that would have been forgivable if not for the Green-Eyed Monster’s complete disregard for the pre-contracted occupation rights of Max’s lap. Such rights had long been pre-determined and belonged to Sassy (and occasionally to Jimmy, she admitted begrudgingly). However, no amount of quiet hisses and vicious glares seemed to penetrate the creature’s thick skull, and he would greedily occupy Max’s thigh for more than 95% of any given afternoon. Sometimes with his head, sometimes with his feet, and a few times he even straddled his entire body over Max; the latter could not have been comfortable for Max, as the Green-Eyed Monster was enormously overweight compared to Sassy.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43833321#main

• Fluff, POV!Sassy and Jimmy, Funny *6.5k

> Set My Midnight Sorrow Free =

He doesn’t blame Max, not really.

If he could have Charles for one night, he would never let him go either.

Maybe he isn’t the one who is losing; Max is also playing a losing game.

You can’t open yourself to Charles and try to exist in his charmed life without becoming irrevocably enamoured.

When Max let Charles walk into his motorhome, when he let Charles slip into his existence, Max didn’t know it then but the battle was already lost.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/31552340#main

• Angst, POV!Pierre, Falling in Love, Jealousy/Pining *13.4k

> All of You, All of Me (Intertwined) =

Or, two future teammates get high, get on Mattia Binotto's wrong side through an inadvisable escapade involving fairy lights, get on a plane, and get a stuffed armadillo named Chax. In that order.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42627222#main

• Fluff, Slight Angst, FWB to Lovers, Future Red Bull!Charles *12.8k

> The Grid: A Comprehensive Guide for Handling your Gay Racer Friends =

Or, Charles and Max, and the handbook birthed from their idiocy. Featuring a large number of baked goods.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/33291136#main

• Fluff, Humor, Friends *6.3k

> we're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love = ♥️

"So, do we need a signal for when things are going downhill and you need me to save you?" He asks, a glimmer in his eyes that seems so unfamiliar yet familiar that Max feels it like a sucker punch to the stomach.

"Just have the vodka waiting." Max laughs, flicking his gaze down to the gentle grip that Charles has his wrist in before he releases and Max turns around with pink cheeks and crosses the restaurant to join up with his date once again.

(Lando sets Max up on disastrous blind dates that end up with Max falling for the bartender who was the real set up all along.)

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047056/chapters/66033652?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_668986186

• Fluff, Non-Driver AU, Blind dates, Bartender!Charles *8.7k

> Pick Apart the Pieces of Your Heart =

"I reckon-" George says in-between scenes, "- that Charles is Gatsby."

Lando tilts his head back to clock Max's reaction but it's nothing except confusion etched on his face as he scrunches his nose up trying to figure out what George means,

George holds his hand up and continues to explain, "Gatsby threw all these big parties in the hope that Daisy would go to one of them, right? Charles throws a party every other day and I think it's because he wants you to go." He says to Max

alternatively, Charles is Max's nightmare neighbour until he's something much more than that.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489348/chapters/61832617?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#main

• Fluff, Angst, Non-Driver AU, Apartment neighbor AU *6.3k

> We’re Making Gold Dust = (Series)

They’re carefully walking, skipping and hauling themselves across any gaps. The morning air feels crisp and fills Charles’ lungs until it hurts, but god, it hurts in the best way that it’s ever hurt him before. He takes pictures, videos but tries to remember the feeling most of all.

It feels like home.

The best people, the best places, the height, the element of danger, it’s everything that Charles hadn’t imagined his life to be five years ago but maybe it’s right after all.

alternatively, a fascination discovered at fifteen leads to love, trust and healing whilst breaking the rules and climbing things that aren't supposed to be climbed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374812#main

• Angst, Non-Driver AU, Parkour AU, Falling in Love *13k

> Two Burning Hearts (It Would Last Forever) =

In the end, it does turn out that your soulmate can be the person you least expect and neither of them don’t think it could have been anybody else.

alternatively, Charles and Max are soulmates and for the most part, they hate it but should have seen it coming.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/23363920#main

• Soulmate AU, Angst *2.5k

> All the Lights (Couldn’t Put Out the Dark) = (Series - The Warming Verse)

“Charles,” Max said, his tone soft again and breaking Charles of his thoughts. “Please just ask me for whatever you want to ask me. You don’t have to keep explaining yourself.”

Charles laughed again, his cheeks bright red.

“Could I... sit on your cock for a little bit?”

OR: Charles is overwhelmed and wants Max to make it better.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46165159#main

• PWP, Cock Warming, Feelings *7.5k

> The Right Place (The Right Time) = (Series - The Warming Verse)

“Charles,” Max said, his tone gentle.

Charles didn’t move his hands away from his face.

“Hey... look at me,” Max said softly.

Charles took a deep breath and finally let his hands fall.

Max looked at him for a long moment, their eyes locked together before he asked, “Would my cock help?”

OR: In the aftermath of the shit show that was Melbourne, Charles turns to Max for comfort.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46332700#main

• PWP, Cock Warming *9.7k

> Something New (Let’s Not Get Complicated) + (Series - The Warming Verse)

Max smiled at him, his expression soft despite how hard he was against Charles’ hip.

“Pretty boy,” Max mused, brushing Charles’ hair out of his eyes.

“Shut up,” Charles huffed, flushing bright red. It only made Max smile harder.

“You’re even prettier when you tell me to shut up.”

“Shut the hell up, Max,” Charles squeaked.

OR: Charles and Max finally talk about their Feelings™

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46896289/chapters/118129207#workskin

• PWP, Cock Warming, Size Kink, Dom/subspace, Daddy kink *31.7k

—Please note there may be more works in The Warming Verse, I may not be caught up***

> Fair Winds and Following Seas = ♥️

Max lets out an impatient sigh and looks at Lando as he washes the shot glass before putting it back. “Well who is it?”

Lando rolls his eyes. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m delightful, now come on,” Max presses, trying not to show he’s getting curious. “Who is this mystery person?”

“Charles Leclerc!” Lando says with a bright smile, he’s almost jumping up and down with excitement. “He’s chartering the yacht for the week!”

“Charles Leclerc?” Max repeats, raising an eyebrow. “The Charles Leclerc, F1 driver for Ferrari, is here?”

Max works on a super yacht during the summer to make some money to invest in his sim racing career and Charles happens to charter it for the week.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48088906/chapters/121258555?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_671144260

• Non Driver!Max, Yacht shenanigans, Fluff, Slight Angst, Mentions of Smut *24.8k

> Carry Me in Your Heart (You Know You’re Never Gonna Leave Mine) =

“You are the reason he started learning German?!” Lorenzo practically gasps, honest-to-god glee on his features. Charles hates him.

“But Max is Dutch,” Arthur says.

Charles groans, his hands trailing in front of his face in an effort to disappear from the situation.

AU where you can sometimes see through your soulmate's eyes.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42022176?view_adult=true#main

• Soulmate!AU, Growing up together, Angst, Harsh breakup, Angst with a happy ending *30.2k

> No Brakes On = ♥️

Max is a race car driver. Charles is a movie star. They really shouldn't work, but they do.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48170218#main

• Actor!Charles, Slight Angst, Character study, Fluff, Strangers to lovers *32.5k

> Lost In Your Current Like a Priceless Wine =

"What did you just say?" Max asks in a flat voice and Charles gives him a strained smile.

"I might have accidentally told my mom that I have a boyfriend and now she's demanding that I bring you home with me for the New Year. Actually, she said Christmas and New Year, but I told her that you were spending Christmas with your own family..."

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535271

• Fake dating, Non-Driver AU, College AU, Fluff, Slight Angst *10.2k

> You Got Me =

When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.

“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples.

Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49182076#main

• College AU, Fluff *16.6k

> This Feels Like Falling in Love =

Five kisses throughout their lives, and the one that started it all.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49162735/chapters/124043815?

• Podfic, 4+1 fic, Kid fic *3k

> Closest I Get = (Series)

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal or anything, right? It can be just about sex, nothing else.” Charles steps forward, into Max’s space. Reaches out a hand, lets it run over Max’s cheek, leans a little closer. “Just sex,” he whispers, in the ever diminishing space between them as Max leans into his touch.

“Fuck,” Max whispers, screwing his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his mouth. “I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t-“

Charles cuts him off by lurching forward and pressing a kiss to Max’s mouth, quick and fleeting, but then Max groans, grabs Charles’s waist, pulls him closer, kisses him hard. Charles melts into it immediately, overwhelmed by Max’s scent, by his hands on Charles’s waist, his mouth on Charles’s.

It’s like something clicks into place, when they kiss.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49230871#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Max, Omega!Charles, PWP, Angst *4.8k

> Heart Held Close = (End of Series)

“Just sex,” Charles whispers in his ear, and he’s coming closer closer closer and Max is getting swallowed by the sun, Charles’s smell bright and enticing and all around him.

Max let’s out a heartfelt, “Fuck,” as he feels himself tipping forward ever so slightly, his rut dumb brain taking over, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that is still screaming at him that this is a terrible idea. “I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t-“ He tries, but it’s weak at best.

And then Charles kisses him, and it’s all over.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49276354#main

• A/B/O, Smut, Angst, Happy Ending *7.8k

> A Force More Powerful Than Gravity =

Charles studies goop in his lab. Goop is actually a very attractive alien.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LestappenWeekSummer2023/works/49302043#main

• Non-Driver AU, Alien!Max, Scientist!Charles, Fluff, Slight Angst *4.5k

> Give Yourself Up To Me =

For the safety of his people, Crown Prince Charles is willing to do anything.

Anything.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49300402/chapters/124403428?

• Non-Driver AU, Royalty AU, Angst *1.5k

> Amazing Grace =

“I win!” Charles announces when he has Max pinned to the ground by his wrists, a wild grin on his lips. His chest is heaving, there’s some dirt on his cheek and in his hair, and Max can’t help but grin up at him.

“No you don’t,” He argues, mirth in his eyes. “You only win when you capture my sword!”

They're teenagers. And then they're not.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49325872/chapters/124469185?

• Non-Driver AU, Swordsmen AU, Angst *1.5k

> Red Bull’s Golden Puppy =

In a memory box tucked away deep in their minds, Charles, Max and Chloe Leclerc-Verstappen, share their biggest memories and photographs. Adopting a pet named after the original Red Bull golden boy Sebastian Vettel would soon join that club.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LestappenWeekSummer2023/works/49313617#main

• Kid!fic, Future family, Established Relationship, Fluff *1.4k

> This Love Asylum =

“Are we still having dinner with your mother?,” Max asked, his arm still on Charles’s waist, Sebastian’s low whistle now hard to miss. “I didn’t know you went to dinner with the Leclercs.”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I do! My mum told Pascale I was only having takeout when I’m here. It worries her, you know? So when we’re here, I’m supposed to have dinner with Charlie and his mum at least once a wee—ow! Hey!” Charles had elbowed Max, causing the latter the pout while another pout was already on Charles’s face.

“I didn’t know Sophie and Pascale were friends either,” Sebastian was having the time of his life and Max being oblivious about Charles’s whole situation was the icing on the proverbial cake.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LestappenWeekSummer2023/works/49312864#main

• Fluff, Sebastian!POV *1.5k

> Dangerous Games =

Too late, Charles realises he’s been standing rooted in his spot, and Max looks over his shoulder, a questioning look on his face, “Is everything al—,”

“Suck my dick.” Charles blurts out.

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. Charles’ cheeks are bright red. “What?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LestappenWeekSummer2023/works/49276297#main

• Non-Driver AUCollege AU, Blowjob, Slight Smut *1.9k

> Eighteenth Summer =

Max wanted to burn it into his memory, engrave bits and pieces of it into each of his senses. The way the blue sky reflected off of Charles’s massive sunglasses, the smell of the hot asphalt mixing with Charles’s cologne, the nearly hysterical sound of their laughter as their playlist finally shuffled to Mr. Brightside; everything felt so precious. So fleeting. Moments memorialized on the 101 northbound, flying out of their open windows and away from his greedy fingers.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49253491/chapters/124280527?

• Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending, Summer in California, High School AU *5k

> Middle Child Syndrome +

After all, Charles being a middle child always made a lot of sense to Max.

Max’s unwillingness to deny Charles anything always made a little less sense to Max.

Standing on the third place podium beneath the Monegasque flag made a lot less sense to Max.

The fact that he wasn’t mad about it, a warm sense of acquiescence spurred by Charles’s smile, made it all click.

He was in love with Charles Leclerc, and he always had been.

Or: A small collection of memories leading up to a realization on the podium of Baku 2023

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46979311/chapters/118348648#workskin

• Fluff, Realization of Feelings *3.6k

> Rules of Engagement =

“Take me with you then!” Max felt his eyes go wide, his jaw literally dropping at the suggestion. “Tell them I’m like. Say I’m your fiancé, mate.”

The heat had melted Charles’s brain, Max decided, staring at him blankly.

“No.” He deadpanned.

“Mate it’s genius! You won’t have to do anything, just stand there. Let me handle it. Them. The women.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49006156#main

• Fake Relationship, Roommates, Non-Driver AU, Socially inept!Max *7.2k

> All the Stars We Cannot See = ♥️

Sitting on his roof, bathed in wintery silence, Max prayed to be rescued. To whom, he wasn’t sure. Maybe the force that branded his wrist, the universal power that decided who to tie him with forever. Perfectly. Something like fate.

Max prayed to fate, then.

“Am I interrupting something?” The man’s accent was French, his tone unusually assertive for a question of intrusion.

“It’s not my roof,” Max shrugged, hopping back onto the ledge.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49182697/chapters/124096612?

• Soulmate AU, Non-Driver!Charles, Mentions of Child Abuse, Mentions of Sickness, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Happy Ending *9.8k

> Lie to Me =

5 times they told the truth + 1 time they tried to lie

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49206214?view_adult=true#main

• Soulmates AU, Angst, Smut *5.3k

> Shut Up and Drive +

Max pointed at Charles’ bags. ‘Is this all you're bringing or will there be more?’

Oh so he was making fun of him now, well Charles could do the same. ‘You mean more than the four white t-shirts you brought?’

Max blinked at him for a couple of seconds before his entire face lit up and he giggled. He giggled.

‘Good one, and I actually brought five t-shirts,’ Max replied, still smiling.

Was he serious? Charles hoped not.

OR: Charles and Max are 'forced' to go on a road trip together, whatever could go wrong?

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49181029/chapters/124092070#workskin

• Road-trip, One bed trope, Enemies to Lovers, WIP *

> Partiality =

“Okay, this is—,” Max stops himself. His eyebrows knit together and he’s obviously frustrated with something. “I know this isn’t what you wanted,” He says slowly, when he gathers his thoughts. “But I’m not going to force you to treat me like your—,” Max makes a face. “Your alpha.”

Charles coughs. “But… You are.” He points out.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49230259?view_adult=true#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Max, Omega!Charles, Fluff *2.4k

> You Went, and It Was Night =

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Max says suddenly. His voice sounds husky, used, wrecked. It sends a shiver down Charles’ spine. He did that. “You’re being very loud.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49182070/chapters/124095055?

• Slight Angst, Fluff, Charles is thinking *900 words

> Sort You Out (Heart Out Series) =

Charles can't tell which is worse — that he can't remember the sex he had with his childhood rival, or how according to her, it wasn't even good.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49340395/chapters/124508077?

• Girl!Max, Pining Charles, Slight smut *6.3k

Here are some of the best authors in the Lestappen field. Please go follow and send them some love!! They are doing the Lord’s work!!!!!!

@nyoomfruits (nyoomfruits on Ao3)

@drivestraight (Linearity on Ao3)

@fabbyf1 (Fabby on Ao3)

@charlescoded (lazarusgreeneyes on Ao3)

@fueledbyremembering (NovaCloud on Ao3)

@wanderingblindly (Wanderingblindly on Ao3)

@hoewedeshummels (Monzas on Ao3)

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mysterious-ocarina · 5 months

Text

No Control

marauder!Sirius Black x fem!reader

(A/N 1, im american so i’ll prolly get alot of british slang wrong, or just call stuff by what americans say) ( A/N 2, this is kinda an au where Sirius doesn't move in with James and is stuck with the Black family. I had a lot of trouble figuring out what family to put the reader in that would fit my plot and I just ended up putting you in the nott family. I guess if you really wanna think about it (pls don't think too hard about it), your brother is the father of theo nott?) (A/N 3, check this out if anyone wants an explanation of why i've been gone from tumblr for so long)

Warnings: definitely angsty but with some sprinkles of fluff, lots of mentions of abuse (nothing graphic is shown, it's just described to have happened a lot in the past), this is an arranged marriage trope but not enemies to lovers trope, lots of misogyny (lately i've been feeling angry at the world and it's views of women so here is me trying to comfort myself. Sirius black is a woman lover fr). let me know if there is anything else i need to tag cuz this is my most serious fic yet

Main Masterlist HP Masterlist Requests AO3

(5.6k words)

Sirius Black. A name that's known by the majority of the Hogwarts population. And a face that is known (maybe a little too personally) by many wizards and witches at Hogwarts. But not to you.

You've only ever heard about the notorious Sirius black and the gang of hooligans called the Marauders. You've never got to meet any of them personally. You occasionally would see some of them around, but never Sirius. As a Slytherin, you often ran into his brother, Regulus, but you've never really talked to him either, only ever exchanging pleasantries.

It was actually kind of surprising that you've never talked to the Blacks before. You both came from pure blood, supremacist families and both you and Sirius were known to be a bit rebellious against your families (or just rebellious in general).

But none of that matters, when your parents force you to come home for the holidays and basically shatter your resolve.

At Hogwarts, away from the prying eyes of your family, you were most like yourself. Rebellious, outgoing, funny, and even kind. But under the roof of your family's expensive manor, you were nothing more than a quiet, obedient little girl, who's value was determined by whichever man was in charge of her. The perfect, pureblood daughter.

Just as your mother was and is, you are basically a slave to your own blood, specifically your brother and father. And as soon as you're married (arranged to a pure blood. no doubt, without your consent) you'll have to be an obedient little wife for your husband.

The perfect, doting, obedient, docile, pureblood wife. It was all a load of rubbish, you thought, but you would keep the facade up in order to keep the abuse at bay. You learned pretty early on that speaking up for yourself and speaking out of turn was not going to be tolerated.

You were silently eating dinner with your family. Your father and brother were quietly speaking about matters that even if you and your mother cared, neither of you would be allowed an opinion on.

“Honey, we’ll be having important guests for tomorrow's dinner. So make sure you look your absolute best,” your mother spoke to you. She gave you a sympathetic smile knowing the “show” you both would have to put on in front of guests.

“Okay. Am I allowed to know who these guests are?” you swallowed down your food. You were filled with nerves, thinking about what kind of important guests you were going to have.

Your mother bent down closer to your ear, “I’m not supposed to be telling you this-” she shot a quick look to your father to make sure he wasn’t listening, “but it’s the Black family. I’m not sure why they are coming. All I know is that it’s important business with one of their sons.”

You put your fork down on your plate, placing your hands down on your lap in front of you. You let your thoughts wander and only grew more worried. What kind of important business did one of the Black brothers have with your family? To help a little with your nerves, your mother placed a comforting hand on yours before going back to her meal.

The rest of your night was uneventful after that, until you went to bed. You stayed awake for longer than you should have, your mind way too loud to allow you to sleep. You ran through a list in your mind about the millions of different “important business” that the Black family could have with yours. But none of it made sense why they would eat dinner with us. Usually important business was settled in your father’s study, as it was improper for the ladies to be present.

Eventually, you were able to fall asleep and then the next day would start. You woke up late, which was extremely unappreciated by your brother, who was expecting his morning coffee like usual. You were promptly punished, not only by being woken up by him screaming at you, but also with a beating.

You spent the rest of the day trying to find an appropriate outfit for the dinner that would cover the red marks and newly forming bruises on your arms. Your mother lessened the pain of the marks a little during the day but there wasn’t much else that you could do.

Sometimes when you both sat and drank tea, you would often dream together about running away from all of this. The blood supremacy, controlling men, and just downright evil families. But those thoughts and dreams were quickly quelled when the sound of the men's voices could be heard, calling for the maids- I mean women.

Both you and your mom knew, these were only dreams. It was impossible for purebloods to leave the life that they were born into.

You and your mother waited in the foyer, waiting for the guests to arrive. Your dress was rubbing against the lashes on your skin, making you scratch your arms in irritation but soon stopped when your mothers hand landed on yours.

“You’ll only make it hurt worse. Plus, you know you can show any discomfort in front of the guests,” she said softly. She was trying her best to sound comforting but it only served to remind you of the show you both are forced to put on and the lives you’re stuck living.

A knock was heard and muscle memory forced wide, fake smiles onto both of your faces. Your mother opened the door and welcomed the Black family, “Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Black. I hope you had safe travels here.”

As soon as they crossed the threshold, you were in front of them offering to take their coats. They handed them to you as Mrs. Black spoke, “Thank you for having us, Mrs. Nott.”

“My daughter will show you to the dining room while I finish up making dinner,” your mother informed before quickly making her way towards the kitchen.

After you finished hanging up Mr. and Mrs. Black’s coats, you finally had the chance to look at the two Black brothers. Being in his house, you immediately recognized Regulus, who gave you a tight smile. You then looked over to who you assumed was Sirius.

He certainly was as attractive as the girls at Hogwarts always seemed to make him seem. But he wouldn’t make eye contact with you. He was looking toward the ground, still keeping his posture ramrod straight. He had the same look and body language as someone who had just been beaten for disobedience. A look you were familiar with.

Before anyone could get angry with you, you spoke up, respectfully, “If you would follow me, please.”

With your head down, you brought the family to the dining room. Your father and brother both stood up to shake hands with the Blacks. You stood behind your seat, waiting for the men to sit down first. Your father and Mr. Black sat down and engaged in conversation. You watched Regulus take the chair next to his father and looked to see where Sirius was. You were surprised to find him right next to you.

You backed up, unsure why he was standing there. Of course, you would give up your seat if he asked you to. But all he did was pull the chair out and motion for you to sit down. You sat down and thanked him as he pushed the chair in, “Thank you, young master Black.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw your father give a nod at your use of the title. Salazar, you sounded like a damned house elf. But that was the proper way you were to address him.

Sirius scrunched his nose at the title but gave you an understanding smile, “You’re welcome.”

He surprised you once more by taking the seat directly next to yours. You kept your mouth shut, knowing it was best to keep your curious thoughts to yourself, but you did shoot him a kind smile.

Dinner started without a hitch, conversation mostly being between Mr. Black and your father, your mother and Mrs. Black conversing a little bit with each other too. You, your brother, and both Black brothers mostly stayed silent and ate the meal.

Throughout the entire dinner, when nobody was looking, you had been rubbing at your irritated arm in discomfort. You don’t know how long Sirius had noticed but he grabbed your hand under the table just as you were going to bring it back up again. He continued to eat his meal with his other hand, looking like he wasn’t holding your hand under the table at the moment.

At your confused glance, he leaned closer to your ear, whispering, “I know what you’re doing. It’s just going to make it hurt more, the more you keep messing with it. Just squeeze my hand instead.”

He went back to eating, glancing around to find that no one noticed him whispering to you. You squeezed his hand a bit hard as you went back to eating too. Instead of wincing or doing anything to show discomfort, all he did was rub his thumb soothingly on yours.

The butterflies Sirius stirred up in you was enough to distract you from your irritating arm for the rest of the dinner.

“Now,” your father started, rubbing his napkin on his mouth and setting it down on the table, (the universal sign for “stop eating and listen to me”). “Mr. Black and I have recently come to an agreement.”

Sirius squeezed your hand in comfort as his father spoke up, “Seeing as Ms. Nott is the same age as my Sirius, we have arranged for the two of you to be married. It will be after the both of you graduate from Hogwarts.”

Those words echoed in your head as you looked up to the two fathers in shock. Your silverware clattered as it fell from your hand onto your plate. You must have been breaking the bones in Sirius’ hand, holding it as tight as you were.

Despite the fact that you knew it was a bad idea, your adrenaline forced you to speak up, “You can’t do that, father. You can’t just force me to marry someone that I just met.”

The tears in your eyes didn’t fall, years of “training” keeping them from falling.

Your brother gave you a harsh glare at your disrespect. Suddenly your father stood up, slamming his hands on the table. Staring straight at you, his commanding voice not loud but still thundering all the same, “I can, and I will. Do not forget your place in this family and this world. You will do as I say until you are married. Then you will be your husband’s to command.”

In a haste, you let go of Sirius’ hand, placing your hands on the table to stand up. Sirius, thinking quickly, kept you from getting up by grabbing your legs under the table. That didn’t stop your mouth from speaking harshly, “I am nobody’s to command or control.”

Before you could say anything more, your father reached across the table and slapped you across the face. You held your cheek in shock. He’s hit you before but never in front of guests. The entire table sat in shocked silence.

You looked down at your lap, willing your tears not to fall. You noticed Sirius’ hands clenched in his lap, he looked like he was shaking in anger, but his face had a practiced neutral expression. Regulus’ eyes were wide as he looked at you but had no other reaction at the scene that just transpired. The both of them knew not to speak up.

Your brother had a satisfied smirk on his face. You could just hear the thoughts in his head right now. Thank Salazar, someone put her in her place, his face screamed.

Your father sat down and looked towards Mr. Black, “I’m sorry for my daughter’s behavior. I hope you can forgive me for her impudence.”

Mr. Black simply waved his hand in dismissal, “It’s alright. I understand how women are.”

Picking up his whiskey glass, your father sighed, “It’s a shame we can’t put off the marriage to fix her. Maybe your son will be able to crack her.”

Mr. Black took a swig of his whiskey too, “We can only hope. If not, I can think of a curse that surely helped to fix up my Sirius.”

Sirius tensed up next to you. Your father had never used the Cruciatus Curse on you, but it was clear what Mr. Black was referring to and your father seemed to quite enjoy the idea. The two men simply laughed as if that curse wasn’t named an Unforgivable Curse. They laughed, as if your pain was nothing more than entertainment to them.

The dinner went back to normal for the two men and your brother, not noticing the tension felt between the rest of the group. This time, you grabbed Sirius’ hand under the table and rubbed it soothingly. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed your hand.

Losing your appetite, you spent the rest of the meal sitting in silence, holding hands with Sirius. Your thoughts ran completely wild. You were going to be married to him, for the rest of your life, and you had only spoken once. You didn’t even speak. He whispered to you and you listened. Thinking more about it, there are worse boys that you could have been forced to marry.

At Hogwarts, Sirius was known for being rebellious and against his family's traits and values. Salazar, the boy was sorted into Gryffindor, the opposite of his entire family. But what if that was just in the public eye. You didn’t know anything about Sirius except for what you’ve heard from others. For all you knew, the moment you and he were alone, he would revert back to his family’s pureblood values and abuse you just as most pureblood husbands did to their wives.

No, you quickly thought, stop it. You tried to think about the entire situation with a rational head. Throughout the entire dinner, he did nothing harsh towards you. He offered comfort when your arm was bothering you. He kept you from standing when you argued with your father (who knows how much worse the situation could have escalated if you actually, physically stood up to him). He did his best to offer you comfort without your families knowing it.

He’s not an abuser, you rationalized with yourself. You felt the way he tensed up at the mention of the Cruciatus Curse. He would not be like your father or your brother.

After dinner, you were sent straight up to your room. Before you were separated, Sirius softly spoke to you, “Don’t worry, darling.”

His smile reassured you by a fraction, as you got ready for bed. Maybe all of it won’t be so bad.

You didn’t see Sirius, or his family, at all the rest of the holidays. The next time you did see him was on the train back to Hogwarts. You were simply looking for an empty carriage to settle in, when you noticed Sirius coming towards you.

He grabbed your suitcase and brought it to what you presumed was the carriage he was going to be in. You simply followed him, shrinking under the glare that some of his fangirls were throwing your way.

Once the door was shut and you were alone, he finally spoke up, “So, how are you?”

You sat in the seat opposite of him. You were unsure how to proceed, so you took the safe option and responded, “I’m fine, master Black.”

He opened his mouth in shock, before quickly wiping the look from his face, he basically pleaded, “Please don’t call me that.”

“But-” you went to protest, but he cut you off.

“At least, don’t call me that when we aren’t near our families,” he dismissed what you were going to say. All you could do was stare at him. It really did seem he wasn’t like his family.

Growing embarrassed under your stare, he shyly spoke back up, “I hope you know that you can act like you normally do when you’re around me.”

You looked away from him, face flushing, “This is how I normally act.”

He leveled you with a look, “We both know that’s not true. I don’t know you well but I’m sure you have a number of choice words to call me.”

Seeing the amused smirk on his face, your facade broke. You slightly smirked right back at him, “I don’t have any words to call you… Our fathers on the other hand…”

Sirius’ smirk turned into an almost awestruck smile. Before he could say anything back at you, a gaggle of boys had burst into the carriage.

“Pads, you’ll never guess who sent me a letter during break,” James Potter excitedly said. He went to sit across from his friend only to just now notice you. You gave him a sweet smile.

“Who’s this?” James asked, sitting next to Sirius and throwing his arm around him.

Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin followed James into the carriage, taking their seats. Everyone gave you curious but welcoming looks.

Sirius gave you a look, which you nodded to.

“Put up a silencing charm. I’ve got a story to tell you,” Sirius replied, causing the boys to perk up.

The next hour or so was spent with Sirius explaining your arranged marriage to his group of friends. You were relatively silent, not yet comfortable talking to his friends. He left out the parts where you were abused and berated but didn’t spare the details of his own abuse. It seemed he was comfortable sharing what he goes through to his friends. And evidently you too, since you were there listening too.

This was how you found out that he knew about the betrothal before you did. Apparently, he found out just moments before going to the dinner. He tried to refuse his father (the same way you had, you noticed) and received a beating for his insubordination. That would explain the look he had when you first saw him.

You cringed a little, hearing that he was hit but he gave you a reassuring smile. His friends were also really kind and sympathetic to the entire situation. No wonder he seemed comfortable sharing his familial trauma with them, they were extremely supportive.

“Can they really do that?” James questioned, from next to Sirius.

You sighed and crossed your arms, “Unfortunately, yes. There isn’t anything that we can do to avoid it.”

Remus looked up thoughtfully, “Is it possible for you guys to run away from your families?”

You thought about it, “Hypothetically, we could run away from our families and the blood supremacy world, but it would be extremely difficult.”

Sirius spoke up, “Trust me, I’ve debated it my entire life. If we ran away from our families, no doubt we would be financially cut off from them.”

You added, “Not only would we have to somehow have enough money for a place to live, but we would also need to find a job, to keep the place to live. And trust me, families like ours have a lot of power in the wizard world. One word from them, and no one would want or be able to hire us.”

Peter muttered, “That’s horrible.”

Sirius sighed and slouched in his seat, “You’re telling me.”

“Thinking about it, Sirius, you need to put your womanizing ways away. A married man shouldn’t be parading around with any woman that gives him attention,” you added with a teasing smirk.

“You make me sound like a cheap whore,” Sirius replied with a pout.

“You’re not?” James was quick to rebuttal, causing you to laugh at the offended face Sirius gave the both of you. It didn’t take long for the entire group of you to dissolve into laughs and giggles.

Sirius smiled at you, teasingly, “Well how about you? I’m sure your long line of lovesick fools will end up sobbing at the news.”

You glared playfully at him, “I don’t know any lovesick fools. I actually swore off dating a long time ago so this doesn’t affect my love life at all.”

Remus looked at you in bewilderment, “Went from swearing off dating straight to marriage.”

“Quite the jump,” you simply offered in reply. “At least I’m stuck with Sirius and not some blood supremacist twat like my brother.”

“That is true,” Remus reasoned. “You could have been forced with someone who actually believes the rubbish their parents feed them.”

You felt comforted by Remus' words, confirming that Sirius wasn’t like both of your families.

The rest of the train ride was spent getting to know each other. It wasn’t hard to become friends with Sirius and his buddies. The longer you spent with them, the more comfortable you became with the idea of becoming Sirius’ wife. Don’t get me wrong. You still didn’t want to be forced to marry someone that you didn’t know or love, but you were comfortable knowing that he felt the exact same way.

Who knows? Maybe you could fall in love with Sirius the same way a plethora of other girls had.

The rest of your seventh year at Hogwarts went alright. It didn’t take long for rumors to spread that you and Sirius were to be married but for the most part, the gossip didn’t bother either of you that much. It’s not like the rumors were false, so what was the point in denying anything.

The only downside was the threats that a multitude of Sirius fangirls made in your direction. Nothing too serious has happened to you yet, but you knew soon enough that it would be too much for the wrong girl. Turns out, that time would come soon enough.

You were eating breakfast in the Great Hall, Regulus sitting across from you. Since he was to be your brother-in-law, the both of you became friends. You would also find out that he wasn’t like his parents either. He just wasn’t as outward of this fact as Sirius was. Watching what Sirius has put up with, he knew that he wasn’t brave enough to rebel and deal with the consequences.

Earlier in the week, a parcel came by owl for you. In it was a Black family heirloom, a wedding ring. You were told that you had to wear it from now on, even though you guys were still only engaged and not married. Of course, you didn’t argue, though.

You sat staring at the ring. On one hand, you hate what it symbolized. It was your own sick image of slave shackles that tied you down. On the other hand, “It really is quite pretty. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought Sirius picked it out just for me.”

Regulus looked up at you as you spoke. He was confused for a moment until he noticed you glancing at the ring on your ring finger. He swallowed his toast and took a sip of his black coffee, “Well… I mean, it is charmed.”

You gave him a confused look, which only made him look back at you even more confused. His eyebrows raised, “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” you questioned. You looked at the ring and tried to think of what kind of charm it could have been.

Regulus smirked back at you, “Well, Mrs. Black-” you glared at him, only making him smile harder at you, “-When the ring was first made for our grandmother's grandmother, or some other old bat, it was put under some kind of spell.

“It was always meant to be an heirloom and it was charmed to always look the way that the husband, the male with Black blood, wanted it to look. Hypothetically, it was supposed to be a symbol of great love because the husband should know what kind of ring their wife would like to wear. But with our family being the kind of family it is, it was mostly only ever worn as a symbol of possession.

“Rarely, did the husbands care enough about their wives to know what kind of ring they would like to wear,” Regulus finished his story. He was giving you an unreadable smile.

You stared back at him, your expression almost as unreadable as his, scoffing at him, “Well most jewelry is going to be pretty.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t that look like the perfect ring for you,” he smoothly replied.

You simply ignored him, finishing your breakfast. You did your best to ignore the fluttering feeling in your chest at the thought that Sirius knew what your perfect ring would look like.

The ring on your finger only served as a reminder to all the girls at Hogwarts that you were to be Sirius’ wife, a fact that was not very well received by the female population. Before you had the ring, the most that would be thrown your way was dirty looks and glares, something you could easily handle. But as more and more people noticed the ring on your finger over the next week, the more serious it became.

You started to receive so much hate mail, that you started to only ever open up letters if they had the official Nott or Black seal. Most of the letters only said foul things to you. Not many people were aware of the arranged part of the marriage, mostly only pureblood Slytherins and Black’s friends knew about that, so a lot of the letters consisted of them berating you and wondering how you got the notorious Sirius Black to fall in love with you (A love potion being the most common guess. Because why would the perfect Sirius Black want to be with a nobody girl like you).

People really are dense these days. How could people possibly jump to any sort of conclusions when no one has ever seen you guys kiss… or even hold hands for that matter. The both of you were friends by now, of course. But that’s it. You guys didn’t just magically fall in love now that you are betrothed.

Well… one of you wasn’t in love. Over the course of getting to know Sirius more for the past few months, feelings did start to stir within you. But you always tried to squash them down as soon as you felt them. Which only made you hurt more.

You were going to get married… without your consent… to a guy that you’ve started to truly care for… despite the fact that he could never care for you the same way. It was all kind of sad, when you really thought about it.

You thought about how you were probably, inadvertently, just a symbol of his slavery to his family and their beliefs. Just as he was inadvertently a symbol of your slavery to your family and their beliefs.

But you were able to look past that. So maybe he would be able to look past it too and see the silver-lining to this whole thing.

Breaking out of your thoughts, you muttered a quicked Incendio at the pile of hate mail in front of you, burning it to ash. Slipping your wand back into your robes, you continued to eat your dinner in relative peace.

If only it could’ve stayed in peace. Two girls, a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff that you didn’t even recognize, sat down on both of your sides. Your confusion was apparent, only widening the smirk on the two girls' faces.

Understanding what was going on, you rolled your eyes, “Do you guys need something?”

“What’s your secret?” the Ravenclaw girl inquired.

You simply continued to eat your food, unaffected by their intimidation. Dryly, you responded, “Whatever could you mean?”

The girls looked at you in disgust, before the Hufflepuff spoke up, “We want to know how you got someone as amazing as Sirius Black to fall for you. I can’t think of anything good about you.”

With another roll of your eyes (if you had a galleon for everytime you rolled your eyes because of these kinds of girls, you would be rich) you cooly replied, “Have you tried, having a personality? I’ve heard it does wonders in making people like you.”

Both girls huffed at your attitude before standing up. The Ravenclaw haughtily informed you, “You better watch your back, Nott. Wouldn’t want anyone to damage Sirius’ goods.”

Using her wand, the Hufflepuff spilled sticky juice all over you, leaving you floundering in shock. You sat for a second seething in anger, only growing more furious as the gross liquid seeped more into your clothes.

By now, most of the great hall was already watching what had happened but at the glare you threw at everyone, people were quick to go back to minding their business.

You got up quickly, making your way out of the Great Hall. You heard footsteps behind you and someone calling your name but you were too blind with rage to bother turning around to find out what they wanted. You had had enough of the girls in this school looking down at you for something that wasn’t any of their business.

You were almost to the girls washroom, when Sirius grabbed ahold of your arm. You quickly whipped around, seething, “What the hell do you want, Black?”

He faltered, unsure how to handle what was happening, “I saw what happened. Are you okay?”

You glared harshly at him, “Do I look okay to you?”

Gobsmacked, he hesitantly replied, “Well, what can I do?”

“Oh gee, Black,” you spit at him. “Maybe you could fix your fanclub who seems to think that I’m Satan incarnate herself.”

Your anger in the moment kept you from thinking rationally, you mocked, “Oh perfect Sirius Black. He’s so hot and amazing. How could a slag like you end up with a man like him?”

Sirius stood, shocked at your outburst but kept silent and let you continue to tear at him, “I’ve heard it all, Black. Your little group of fangirls are so deep into their delusions that they can’t even see that we aren’t in love. The only thing that they are capable of seeing is that I’ll be your wife, consensual or not.

“Those girls don’t even realize the pain it brings me that I’m forced to do this. Those girls don’t see the pain my family has put me in, time and time again. Those girls don’t see the pain they cause me with their vitriolic jealousy,” You finished your rant off, poking at his chest with each sentence. Breathing deeply after explaining how this all made you feel, you watched as he processed everything you said.

He seemed unsure of how to continue, until anger and what looked like insecurity started to cover his face. He moved your hand away (very lightly, you noticed) and started to step towards you as he raised his voice back at you, “Well what do you expect me to do about literally anything about this situation. I’m sorry that having to marry me is the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“Sirius,” you sighed, regretfully.

But he was quick to continue before you could, “No, you got to tear me out, so now it’s my turn. Trust me, this hurts me too. I know how horrible our families and their rubbish traditions are. You are just as familiar with the abuse as I am, meaning that you know just as well as I do, that there isn’t anything that either of us can do against this.”

He took a step back and a deep, calming breath. He looked at you with an expression that was unreadable, “I wish there was something, anything, that I could do to help us feel less trapped but there’s nothing to do.”

You took a step closer to him, “Nothing about you, is the worst thing to ever happen to me. Really, if anything, you’re the best thing to happen to me. It’s because of you, that I feel less alone.”

At your admission, Sirius let out a breath of relief, as if you just lifted the world off of his shoulders. Was he really that worried about being a burden to you? You spoke up again, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. None of this is your fault and I shouldn’t have let my anger out on you.”

Sirius sighed, muttering the scourgify charm. The sticky juice was instantly cleaned off you and you already felt a little bit better.

Sirius grabbed your hand, holding it in both of his, “It’s alright. I understand what you’re going through. But we can get through this together.”

“You’re right,” you responded with a soft cry. You fell into his chest and softly cried out your frustrations. Sirius stood there, soothing you as best as he could, unwilling to let you out of his embrace.

“How about tonight, you meet me in the astronomy tower? We can do whatever, it doesn’t matter what. We can just hang out and forget about our families for once,” Sirius offered. He still had his arms around you in comfort.

Once your sniffles subsided, you hugged him just a little bit tighter, “That sounds amazing, Sirius.”

(A/N, I was thinking of doing a part 2 if you guys are interested. I was thinking it would be after the marriage but you guys still dance around the feelings you have for eachother. maybe you guys find a way to run away together too. i dont really know, yall let me know what you think)

#sirius black #marauders #marauders era #sirius black x you #sirius black one shot #sirius black fluff #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #female reader #fluff #fanfiction #arranged marriage #angst

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cranberrymoons · 6 months

Text

checking it twice

prompt: open mic night (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rating: t word count: 666 words 😱 tags: coffee shop au, modern setting, established relationship

hi friends! i've been hard at work on what i've been affectionately thinking of as a fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

---

Steve feels his cheeks go pink and start to thaw out as he steps from the chill of outside into the warmth of the shop, ice crystals melting in his hair and making it go damp, wilting a little where it falls into his eyes. He pulls his gloves off and shoves them in his pockets, shaking his hands out to warm them.

Max looks up from her phone at her usual place behind the register, curled up on a stool with a knee pulled to her chest. When she catches sight of him, she rolls her eyes, tilting her head back to shout in the general direction of the kitchen,

“Hey asshole. Your little friend’s here.”

Steve resists the urge to laugh as he takes a step toward the counter.

“You know, I don’t think you really know who you’re messing with,” he tells her. “I’m actually very scary and intimidating.”

She raises her eyebrows. “That so?”

Steve nods. He shrugs out of his coat and drapes it over his arm. She squints at him, and he matches her stare.

“Ask anyone,” he says. “You want a mean girl, I’m your guy.”

She watches him for a moment, then snorts as she lets her feet drop to the floor. She pockets her phone and starts in the direction of the back room.

“I’ll let him know you’re here,” she says over her shoulder without looking back.

From her, that’s practically a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Steve smiles to himself, tucking his nose down into the high collar of his sweater as he takes a look around the room, bustling and busy as they get set up for the week’s open mic.

Eddie emerges a moment later, hair a little frizzed out from the heat of the kitchen, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, cheeks flushed and happy. Steve feels the smile on his face growing warmer as their eyes catch, and he tries to ignore the flurry of butterflies that kick up in his stomach.

“Hi,” he says, and – fuck. It’s only been a couple months, hasn’t it? How is he already –

“Hey,” Eddie says. His smile matches Steve’s as he comes around the counter, slinging a dish towel over his shoulder as he goes. He catches Steve around the waist. “You look nice tonight.”

Steve laughs. “Thanks,” he says, feeling the flush creep up his cheeks. “I worked from home today, so –”

“No monkey suit,” Eddie says. his eyes widen teasingly. “No buttoned up suit and tie.”

Steve smiles. “Something like that.”

“Good,” he says. “I like you a little casual.”

“I know.” He tilts his head to the side, letting Eddie tug him forward into a kiss. “You like me every way though.”

Eddie hums. “We’ll see.”

“Oh yeah?”

And Eddie nods, swaying him back and forth to the rhythm of the music playing in the background.

“What if you showed up in a clown suit?” he asks very seriously. “I’m not sure I’d be so into that.”

Steve lets out a little laugh. “Now I feel like I have to go get a clown suit just to test the theory.”

“Listen,” Eddie says. He holds up his hands. “I’m up to try anything once. If anyone could make it work, it would be you.”

And that definitely makes Steve flush, which is just – he can’t believe he’s blushing over Eddie telling him he’d look good in a clown suit…? What is that even –

“You ready for open mic?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows. He gives a little shimmy. “Going to surprise us all with your acoustic skills?”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, Drops of Jupiter,” he says. “Really wowed my college girlfriend.”

Eddie’s eyes flash. “Can’t tell if you’re joking or not. Kind of hot either way.”

“Hotter than a clown costume?” Steve asks, raising his eyebrows.

Eddie laughs, face breaking into a ridiculous grin.

“Guess we’ll just have to try out both and see.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

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stygianheart · 7 months

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can we have your one piece zolu fic recs?

Well of course *pulls out ao3*

(This is in random order :) If I know their tumblr handle, they will be tagged, but if I don’t…well, just know I’m lame like that. If you know them, then feel free to tag em or something.)

I’m not very good at making recs in a way that just hooks people into reading them, but I’ll try! Here’s 10.

1. Basically anything by @swordsmans . I adore all their work. Literally anything. If I had to name one of their works as a favorite, probably Ocean Theology.

2. The Story Of Us by @mugiwat Though fair warning, you’ll hate Law’s guts in this story. I wanna punch the dudes face in. Modern AU! Absolutely amazing, and I love mugiwat.

3. You Are All I See by Anonymous. Amazing read and definitely deserves more love. I’m preeeetttyy sure I know the person who wrote it, but it’s anonymous, so I won’t say. It’s another Modern AU too. :)

4. Nothing Less (or how I met the pirate king) by Leoporidae_Lagomorpha—Lord oh good god, I think that was the first ZoLu fanfic I ever read? Definitely one of the first, and it succeeded in converting my self from “nah they’re just bros” to “oh my God they’re in love.”

5. Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by @melodramaticcoffeeaddict A dark one, recommended to me by my dearest beloved, but I adore it so much. (I adore all of these but you get the point.) Like I said, it’s a bit dark, but it’s amazing.

6. riptide by nevermordor. I love first date fics, especially ones with humor, so this one has to make the list.

7. O Captain, My Captain (death and rebirth) by amghost. Protective brothers? Check. Fluff? Check. Some angst? Check.

8. In Cradles We Cry by MiniPandaBuns—hi, uh, I cried. A lot. (I’m a very emotional person alright—) We love us some traumatized Luffy and a comforting Zoro.

9. You Caught Me Off Guard by Zoet9. Zoro is an absolute simp for Luffy. Like. Honeeeey. Also Zoro’s a pillow again and I love that joke.

10. Eternity would be a Curse (Without You By My Side) by Puppypaws54672. Again. I cried like a baby. Not so happy ending, but lordy do I love this fic. Zoro’s a god and the king of hell, while Luffy is just, well. He’s Luffy.

#zolu #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #fic rec #anon ask #YAY people are asking me stuff ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡#I’m a very social person when online I need interaction #thanks for the ask! Hope these suffice :) :) :)

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wildlife4life · 2 months

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Fuck-It Friday Coda

Tagged by @try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @buddierights @wikiangela @tizniz @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @cal-daisies-and-briars @disasterbuckdiaz @rainbow-nerdss @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley and @watchyourbuck (because she just dropped a whole ass spec fic that is amazing!) Still barely Friday here, so I am not late to Fuck-it Friday and staying on my coda drop schedule. Here is my 7x03 coda! Enjoy here and on ao3! If you want to know when these codas drop, interact with this post!

They each give Bobby and Athena one last tight hug on the boat before stepping onto dry land and make their way towards the LAFD suv parked close by. Hen walked beside them for a short while, exchanging another round of thanks, praises, and reminders of being there for each other. When she spots Karen breaking away from crowd of concerned loved ones and onlookers, Hen waves them forward and goes to greet her wife.

Its almost lunch time by the time Buck, Eddie, and Chimney make it back to station, and they are all dead beat tired and starving. Chimney tries to invite them for a celebratory lunch but its cut off by jaw cracking yawn that has Eddie and Buck wincing, then echoed by their own. The paramedic chuckles and the just as slap tired firemen join in. “Breakfast at the usual place tomorrow?”

Eddie just hums in agreement, while Buck smiles and answers, “Definitely. Let Hen know?”

“Can’t celebrate without the woman of the hour. Hopefully now she’ll pick up the phone.” Soft laughter follows, “Alright boys, I’m off to put my blackout curtains to the test. I suggest you do the same.” Chim mock solutes them both and strides out of the locker room.

Buck stuffs the sea drenched uniform into his duffle and pulls on a too cool, green hoodie. The lack of warmth from the material on his still damp skin and adrenalin come down has him shivering.

He already knows what dreams await him when (if) he closes his eyes to sleep. A mix of Bobby and Christopher drowning in the harsh waves of the ocean, screaming for Buck to save them and him failing to do so before being pulled under himself.

A chill shoot’s up his spine so piercing, it has Buck inhaling sharply and flinching forward with both hands, slamming his locker close. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie whip around and drop his own duffle as he scurries over to Buck’s side.

Warmth finally seeps into Buck with the press of Eddie’s hand to his shoulder and the shivers lessen. “Hey, hey it’s okay. Everyone is okay.” Eddie soothes, his breath ghosting the back of Buck’s neck, warming him further.

Buck takes a deep breath, “I know that, Eddie. Just…” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to get rid of Bobby and Christopher’s waterlogged features.

Eddie’s grip tightens but doesn’t let the silence of Buck’s loss of words linger for long. “Bobby’s place is on the way to the diner, so we can stop by in the morning.”

Buck cocks his head in confusion, “Um, I know your tired and all Eds, but Bobby’s place is definitely a detour to the diner from my place.”

“Good thing you’re coming back to mine then.” Eddie states with no room argument and a little bit of the tight fear in Buck’s body seeps out. Eddie’s house means he can physically see Christopher is safe and nowhere near the turbulent waves they pulled themselves out of just a few hours ago.

“Okay.” He agrees, then softly adds on, “Thank you.”

Eddie pats his shoulder, “Don’t thank me for having your back.”

🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️🛳️

Christopher is well into school by the time Eddie and Buck make it back to the Diaz household. Buck has to take a few deep breaths outside the kid’s empty room, reminding himself that he’ll see him in less than four hours. Eddie gives him a sympathetic and understanding grimace before shoving him towards the bathroom.

The heat of the shower washes away the remaining chill and ocean salt clinging to his skin, replaced with the comforting scent of Eddie’s products, a mix of citruses and cedar. A pair of gray athletic shorts, fuzzy blue socks, and his blue sweatshirt that has been missing since before Buck’s lightening coma, are waiting for him on the bathroom counter when he open’s the curtain.

Buck pulls on the items of clothing and is taken by surprised by their enveloping warmth. His heart squeezes in his chest, knowing Eddie must have tumbled the clothes in the dryer while he showered.

Making his way back to the living room, Buck finds the older man lounging on the couch in a pair of cut off sweats and another one of Buck’s missing sweatshirts, this one dark green. “Are you the sweatshirt thief?” Buck accuses light heartedly, flopping down next to said thief and pressing into his side, shoulder to thigh.

Eddie shrugs, unbothered and unapologetic, “Cheaper than buying my own.”

Buck gaffs in mock offense but doesn’t even argue or hide how much he likes seeing Eddie in his clothes. Just another thing the man does that soothes Buck’s shaken nerves.

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Buck wraps his arms around them then drops his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. Without hesitation, Eddie’s head falls to rest on his still damp hair. “Thank you for the clothes and bringing me here… for having my back.” Buck whispers.

He feels Eddie’s head turn slightly to nuzzle his nose into Buck’s curls. His partner’s lips brush against Buck’s scalp as he speaks, “Last time I’m saying this, you don’t need to thank me for any of it. That’s not how it works for us.”

Buck lets out a slow breath, “Yea…. I know, but that will never stop me from appreciating you and everything you do. I will never not be grateful that you have my back.”

“Well,” Those lips drift downwards to Buck’s temple, Eddie’s voice sending delicate vibrations across the skin and muscle and casting a whole different kind of shiver through Buck’s body, “I’m just as appreciative and grateful for you too.”

Buck doesn’t quite know if he imagines it, with how he has been drifting to sleep since falling to the couch, but he hopefully believes he felt the firm press of Eddie’s lips to his temple that lingered past platonic.

And when he feels Eddie’s breaths even out across the top of his head, Buck can hear the echo of their gratitude and appreciation fade into discreet exchanges of I love you’s. Those echoes with Eddie’s warmth, keep the nightmarish tides away, allowing Buck to truly rest.

Very belated tagging: @theotherbuckley @perfectlysunny02 @aroeddiediaz @loserdiaz @diazsdimples @jesuisici33 @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @buck-coded @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @sunshinediaz @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @thebloomingheather

#fuck it friday #late fuck it friday #tag game #coda fic #7x03 #my fic #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #silent i love yous #soft boys #eddie takes care of buck

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solarmorrigan · 3 months

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A few people expressed an interest in a continuation of this fic, and I'm almost certain this isn't what anyone had in mind, but considering I hadn't been planning on writing a part two at all, I guess this is what we get?? So here, have an Eddie Perspective

Happy Valentine's Day ❤️

The thing about being friends with Steve Harrington is that, even though he isn’t exactly popular anymore, he’s still popular.

He’s still handsome and he’s still hot and he’s still got rich parents and, in spite of Hargrove’s many attempts to knock him down to the bottom of the social ladder, there are definitely still people who want his attention.

In the time it takes Eddie to spot him from the end of the hallway and make it through the crowds to his locker, a girl has come between them.

Literally – Lindsey Chase is standing in front of Steve, leaning against his open locker door and twirling her hair around her finger, clearly shooting her shot. Eddie can respect it.

He doesn’t like it, but he can appreciate the guts it takes.

Of course, it’s made a little easier by the built-in excuse that is the upcoming hearts-and-candy greeting card nightmare of a holiday that is Valentine’s Day. This is the third time this week a girl has approached Steve with a little paper valentine and hearts in her eyes.

Notably, it is only Wednesday.

Eddie hangs back a bit, watching as Lindsey flirts and Steve smiles and is perfectly kind but doesn’t flirt back. Whatever question she asks him gets lost in the din of the hallway, but he answers by shaking his head and offering a rueful little smile, and her shoulders sag a little before she meanders off with a sigh. Eddie can see her friends on the sidelines now, offering her open arms of comfort and glaring daggers at Steve in solidarity.

Ignoring them, Eddie ambles up and drapes himself against Steve’s locker door, head tossed back and eyelashes fluttering wildly. “Oh, Steve,” he simpers, high and breathy, “aren’t you going to whisk me away for a whirlwind Valentine’s romance?”

“I’d love to, but I’m pretty sure I have a stats test tomorrow,” Steve drawls, sending a sidelong smirk at Eddie.

“Ugh. Romance is dead,” Eddie declares, though he’s smiling back; this is one of the things he really hadn’t expected when he’d extended an offer of friendship to Steve those few weeks ago – the easy banter between them, how Steve is actually funny, how Eddie really loves trying to make him smile. Eddie peels himself away from the door of Steve’s locker and leans into his space instead, draping an arm over his shoulders that Steve doesn’t bother to shrug off. “So, what did the lovely Ms. Chase have to offer you? Her best goat?”

[Read the rest on Ao3]

Tag List (tried to catch all the optimists who asked about a part 2, I'm sorry if I missed anyone!): @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @notmybabies, @westifer-dead, @crakcoon, @tolgakolik, @sirsnacksalot, @halvveislykkelig, @cheesedoctor, @y4r3luv, @she-collects-smut, @boxsam, @wxrmland, @wheel-of-hyperfixation, @maybe-milo

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #sorry for the link but the full fic is 9k and that's too long for Tumblr #AT THIS POINT I HAVE NO MORE IDEAS.#I'm not even sure THIS is any good #but I did have fun writing it so I hope at least some people enjoy?#solar wrote

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nocasdatsgay · 1 month

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The Siren’s Song

Day 5 of @polyacotarweek Favorite Tropes (Sex Pollen and Mating Bonds 😉)

Pairing: Nesta/Cassian/Azriel | Rating: E | Word Count: 2667

Poly Week Master Post | Read here on Ao3

Warnings: Unadulterated smut. Sex Pollen Trope. Slight dub con

Summary: Nesta Cassian and Azriel go to the middle to investigate an illegal trade route that is involved in some assaults in the Court of Nightmares. But instead of a headquarters they stumble upon the very field that’s being harvested.

AN: This lovely fic Called I Pretend You’re Mine All the Damn Time by daycourtofficial is what reminded me of how much I love the sex pollen trope. If you like Az/reader and this trope, go read it.

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @hieragalbatorixdottir @ysmtttty @mybestfriendmademe

“The camp is empty.” Azriel landed beside Nesta and Cassian.

She took in her surroundings; the small clearing with a few tents and a small campfire in the middle was indeed empty. They’d been tracking the trade route for a week and planned on ambushing them. Instead they found nothing.

“Maybe they knew we were coming.” Cassian crossed his arms. “Wasted all this time for nothing.”

“Or maybe something else found them first,” Nesta pointed to the tent on the right, which had the sides shredded.

She looked back at Cassian and Azriel, both shooting each other concerned looks. The Middle was not a safe place. Nesta knew that first hand. She walked over to the tent; she could smell something rotten- food it looked like. The tent was full of supplies left behind. Something definitely came here and took out the residents.

“Found a map.”

She moved out of the tent to see Az and Cassian looking over a large roll of paper. Az lowered it so she could look as well. It was a crude drawing of The Middle, some blank spaces with others filled in. A circle over an area in red caught her eye.

“Maybe they went there,” she pointed at the circle. “They marked it for a reason.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to check it out,” Cass looked to Az. He didn’t disagree. “Let’s go so we can head home. I’m tired of this spy shit.”

“It’s only been a week. Big baby,” Nesta teased.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The flight was short. Nesta held tight to Cassian as they flew. She too was ready for this to be over. The field seemed no different than any other they’d come across. Az signaled for them to land, Cassian following wordlessly. As they got closer the grass seemed to be speckled with white. It wasn’t until they landed that they realized the whole field was covered in small star shaped flowers.

No sooner than he let go of Nesta, placing her on her feet, Cassian began sneezing repeatedly. Nesta stepped back and yellow pollen kicked up around her feet.

“Don’t move,” Az said, his shadows flurrying about him.

“Why?” Nesta shifted and kicked up more pollen, making Cassian sneeze again.

“Stop Nesta,” Az panicked. Nesta and Cassian stood still as stone. “We need to leave. Right now.”

“Why?”

Cassian sneezed so hard his wings flew out. Pollen kicked up high, covering all three of them. Az cursed and he moved, pollen flurrying around him and his shadows. He grabbed Nesta and Cassian and pulled him into his shadows.

They reappeared at the House of Wind.

“We need to bathe this shit off, now,” Az beckoned them to follow.

“Azriel, what the hell is this shit,” Cassian tried to dust himself off. It only smeared on his leathers.

“It’s,” Az looked pained. “It’s Siren’s Dust.”

“What does that mean?” Nesta felt Cassian stiffen beside her.

“That shit is a myth,” Cassian snapped. He sneezed again.

“What does it do?”

Nesta watched Az tug at his collar, his shadows disappearing under his wings. Nesta didn’t realize she, too, was tugging at her leathers. Cassian scratched his neck beside her.

“We need to bathe and lock ourselves in our rooms until it gets out of our system.”

“Neither of you are telling what it is,” Nesta stomped over to Az and his wings flared out.

“Nes don’t,” he stepped back. She did not stop and Az couldn’t help himself; he grabbed her, shoving her against the wall. “Cassian, come get her out of here.”

Heat flared through her. She could smell his arousal and surprisingly her own. Azriel’s pupils were blown and he still looked pained. She wanted to kiss him. She looked to Cassian, he was walking to them and her gaze dropped down to the bulge between his legs. He was turned on too. Nesta let out a noise- a sigh and a moan. Az whimpered.

It clicked for Nesta what was happening. “It’s an aphrodisiac,” she panted.

“Yes,” Az said through gritted teeth. “We need to get it off of us and wait it out.”

Cassian stopped beside them. He too looked pained. But instead of grabbing Nesta, he gripped Az’s hair and pulled him up into a kiss. The two males sighed loudly as their lips met. The lightning of want shot through her and she almost fell to her knees. Azriel was the only thing holding her up. Cassian pulled back and rested it on Azriel’s forehead, both of them panting.

“Take us to the guest room,” Cassian panted. “The one with the shower.”

Az nodded and shadows enveloped them all once again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nesta had to be dreaming.

Her whole body was on fire and she was in the middle of Cassian and Azriel in the shower. She had to be dreaming. In what world would she be so lucky? Azriel’s hand was between her legs, rubbing her clit while she could feel his cock rubbing against her ass. All while she stroked Cassian’s and kissed him with her tongue in his mouth.

They’d long since washed off the pollen. They somehow managed to keep their hands to themselves until Az decided to grab her and lick at her neck. Now they were all moaning, trying to get each off. Az explained through heated kisses that it would take a while to wear off. He even tried to leave but Nesta and Cassian both weren’t having it.

She came first, those textured fingers making her pull away from Cassian yell as she clenched around nothing. Cassian and Azriel both groaned, Cassian coming all over her hand and Az on her back. She could hear the thuds of their wings trying to flare out, which made her laugh loudly.

That cleared their head but not by much. Just enough for them to rinse off and get out of the shower to dry. Nesta was putting her hair up when she turned to find the boys kissing again. Heat bloomed between her legs again.

“You two look like you’ve done this before,” her voice sounded as hazy as she felt.

Az pulled back, Cassian went for his neck. “We,” Az groaned, his cock hardening again. “We’ve fucked before, Nes.”

That made Nesta weak in the knees. “I want to watch,” she replied.

“No,” Cassian pulled away and gave her a look that made her cunt throb. “No, I think we want you with us.”

Thank the cauldron, the guest bed was huge. Az was tossed by Cassian onto the bed and Nesta crawled up between his legs. Gods his cock was pretty and everything she imagined. She didn’t ask as she took him into her mouth, both of their moans filling the air.

Nesta bobbed her head and hollowed out her cheeks when she felt the bed sink behind her. She pulled back, cursing as Cassian pushed into her from behind.

“Keep going, baby,” Cassian said, thrusting into her again. “I wanna see my good girl choke on his cock.”

She clenched around him- when was the last time he called her a good girl? She did as she was told, taking Azriel’s cock in her mouth and forcing it down her throat. Az let out a strangled curse and his hands went into her hair.

“So good, Nes,” Az panted. “Gods Cassian, she beautiful.”

“Wait until you see her ride you,” Cassian chuckled. He grabbed her hips to hold her still while he thrusted into her harder.

Nesta almost came at the thought of Az buried deep in her. She pulled back and licked up his length, swirling her tongue on the head. Cassian’s movements were getting sporadic. Something cold touched her clit- she looked between her legs to see a shadow swirling above as Cassian fucked her.

“I knew it,” she looked up to see a smug Az. “I knew you used them for sex.”

Az didn’t say anything but the shadow and Cassian hit her both just right that she squealed.

“Come on, pretty girl,” Cassian said behind her. “Come on my cock while you have Az in your mouth.”

She nodded and took Az back down her throat while she used both hands to hold herself up. It didn’t take much more for her to come, a muffled yell on Azriel’s cock making him come down her throat. Cass was right behind them both, thrusting deep into Nesta, spilling in her with his wings flared out.

Another brief moment of clarity passed between them all. She pulled her mouth off Az and he scooted up the bed looking sheepish. She wiped the seed and drool off her lips and Cassian eased out of her. He moved off the bed and she could hear him walk to the bathing room again, probably to get a towel.

“I’m sorry,” Az pulled his legs up to cover himself. “You two should go, it only lasts a few more hours I think.”

Cassian came back and wiped up the mess between Nesta’s legs.

“But I still want to ride you,” she said bluntly as she sat up on her knees.

“That’s the pollen talking,” Az shook his head.

Cassian laughed loudly. “No, Nesta’s been wanting this for a while.”

“I’ve had two males before.” Nesta couldn’t be bothered to be ashamed. “But they weren’t either of you.”

The pollen was hitting her again. Nesta could smell arousal spiking in the air and heat flushing her body again. She looked at Az with her piercing silver eyes.

“Do you want us to leave?”

“No,” he said immediately. “Gods no.”

“Then let me ride you. I want to feel you inside me, Az.”

Az cursed but lowered his legs, his length had hardened once again. She crawled over him and pressed her chest to his and kissed him. He tasted as good as she expected. His hands grabbed her ass, kneading the flesh and forcing her cunt to rub against his cock. She pulled back and reached between them, wasting no time sinking down onto him.

He felt so different from Cassian- longer but not as thick. Still it felt right. She let herself adjust, head falling back with a sigh. She didn’t notice Cassian crawl up the bed beside them. His wings were tucked in, his own cock hard and curled up to his chest.

“Okay pretty girl, show Azzie what you got.”

That first lift and drop made her wince. Az was longer than Cassian by only a small bit but it was enough to make a difference.

“You okay?” Az whispered.

She nodded. “I’m not used to the length.” Cassian busted out a laugh and Az’s cheeks darkened. “Just need to not overestimate it.”

She sat up straighter and did it again. It didn’t hurt that time. It was easy to find a rhythm, pleasure coiling in her stomach and thighs quickly. Az used one hand to cup her breast and pinch her nipple. The other reached over to stroke Cassian’s cock.

She watched one shadow come up onto her other breast, brushing her nipple and another slide down Az’s stomach to settle between her legs again. This orgasm was slower- not as strong but still made her yell when she broke, throbbing tight around Az. He and Cassian both groaned, Az coming inside her and Cassian spilling on his stomach and Azriel’s hand.

Another bout of clarity and another haze swept over them. They went slower the next round, Nesta on Cassian’s face, licking up their cum while Az rode him behind her. Another round with Nesta on her back, Cass inside her and Az inside him. Nesta stroked their wings at one point, finding all the spots that had her males singing. Hours later there wasn’t a position they hadn’t been in already.

Nesta herself was starting to feel sore and tired, the haze not taking her over like it had before. She laid between Cassian and Azriel, hot and sticky from sweat and other things. Az buried his face against her arm and pillow. Cassian was on his side, a hand resting on her sternum.

“I think it’s over,” Cassian murmured.

“Good, I’m tired,” Nesta closed her eyes. “I don’t think I could walk if we had to do another round.”

She felt Azriel stir beside her, and she opened her eyes to watch him sit up. He didn’t look at either of them.

“I’ll go clean myself up,” he whispered. His shadows seemed agitated as they flurried around him.

“Stay,” Nesta reached out her hand to grab his. She squeezed it tight. “We’ll nap and then clean up.”

Az didn’t move. His wings were tucked in tight. She knew what he was thinking and it made her ache in her chest.

“Please stay,” she whispered.

“I don’t think I can handle it,” he finally replied back, his voice cracking.

“What do you mean?” Cassian sat up on the bed and frowned. “Az don’t-“

“We did what we had to do.” He snapped. He turned and she could see the pain in his eyes. “Just let me go so we can get back to normal.”

“No,” Nesta squeezed his hand again. Her chest ached more. She sat up beside Cassian and looked Azriel in his eyes. “Stay with us. This- this can be our new normal.”

He shook his head. “But you’re mates. And I-”

Nesta didn’t know at that moment what came over her. She just knew Azriel needed to stay, that if she let him leave that bed- she moved to him and pulled him into a kiss. That ache in her chest eased and when he kissed her back something else tightened.

She pulled back with a gasp.

He shook his head with panic in his eyes. “That’s not-“ he looked past her and his shoulders hunched, like he’d been stuck in the chest.

Nesta turned to Cassian and his mouth was dropped open. Did that mean-

“Holy Mother,” Cassian let out a breath.

“It’s a trick,” Az said. She turned to see him shake his head. He tried to pull away and Nesta kept a grip on his arm. “It’s probably a trick of the Siren’s Dust.”

“Az, it’s not,” she shook her head. “Az we’re-“

“Don’t say it,” Az's voice broke. “Please don’t.”

Nesta could feel his grief and worry, a bond now present and wide open. She could feel Cassian too, his worry and love for Az pulsing on her end.

“We’re mates,” she whispered and tears fell down her cheeks. “We are your mates, Azriel.”

“But how?” He asked and looked between them. He watched Nesta let go and put her hand to her chest when he tugged it. “Two mates?”

Nesta felt Cassian shrug, moving on the bed to be closer to them both.

“We can have Amren or Rhys check,” he said, his tone soothing for the panic coming off Azriel. “It’s there. I would know, I have one. Gods, this whole time,” Cassian laughed a little harshly. “We were mates this whole time.”

“Why don’t we clean up,” Nesta offered. “We clean up and have a good nap. Together. Then we can talk about it.”

Az hesitated but agreed. They all got out of bed and cleaned themselves up. As she feared it hurt to walk, but she didn’t regret it. The House changed the sheets when they returned and Cassian was the first to pass out snoring. Nesta looked over at Az, his hazel eyes watching her. She reached out and took his hand, stroking her thumb over his knuckles.

“I prayed for a mate,” Az whispered in the dark. “I never got one. I thought the Mother had cursed me for being selfish.”

“I would know about being cursed, Az,” she whispered back. “We can be cursed together now.”

“We are if he snores like that all the time.”

They both snickered, even more so when Cassian let out a louder snore. Once they finally settled, she sent her love down the bond to Az. Just as she fell asleep she realized he sent her love back.

#acotar #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d5 #azriel #cassian #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta x azriel #nessriel #cassian x azriel #fave tropes #cw sex pollen

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burnednotburied · 6 days

Text

Chapter 5: The Aquarium

AO3 Link | Chapter 4 Link

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; sorry (but not that sorry) to any Owen fans, but he’s kinda a huge asshole in this

Note: I added chapter titles and finally figured out exactly where I’m going with this story lol. Hooray for having a plan!!

(Sorry it took more than two weeks to get this chapter out! End-of-semester craziness, ya know? I hope this chapter being like twice as long as usual makes up for it!)

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Abby realized too late that she probably should’ve warned you about the life-sized whales on the ceiling.

By the look on your face, she could tell you’ve never seen anything like it.

Which made sense. She hadn’t either before she and Owen found this place three years ago.

She paused to watch you for just a second, taking in your amazed expression as you marveled at the enormous hanging sea creatures above you.

Abby could easily remember what her first time here was like. How incredible and other-worldly this place felt. She imagined it must be even more overwhelming for you, this fractured piece of a world you were not a part of and knew little about. A world where humans built a place where they could go to look at fish for no reason other than that it was entertaining. A world where people did things just for fun.

Of course, Abby had also never been a part of that world, but at least she knew about it. She’d caught glimpses of it, carefully and intentionally gathering bits and pieces. She watched films and documentaries. She read novels and history books, newspapers and magazines if she could find them.

Knowledge was power. And, to Abby, having power was important. Having power meant being able to keep the people she cared about safe.

And if you had enough power, no one could ever take it away from you.

So she dedicated herself to becoming powerful, both of mind and of body. It’s all she had known and cared about since she lost her dad.

It’s why she lost Owen.

She still wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing or a bad thing, but she knew she felt guilty about it.

Three years ago, Owen had quickly claimed the aquarium as his own. He cleaned it up, made it feel as homey as possible, and spent as much time here as he could get away with. Abby didn’t tell anyone, not even the rest of the Salt Lake crew. It was right around the time they were breaking up. She felt like she owed him her discretion at the very least. Not that it really made up for anything.

Yesterday morning, when Nora told Abby that Owen was missing, she assumed he’d come here.

God, she hoped she was right.

Abby shifted the injured Yara in her arms, her muscles burning from carrying the girl for so long.

It was early in the morning now. The sun had just begun to rise as the four of you had been making your way into the aquarium.

“Owen!” she shouted, leading the way down one of the hallways off the main entrance. Abby thought he would most likely be out on the boat, either sleeping or continuing in his never-ending attempts to get the thing in working order.

“Owen!” she called out again. “Owen! Are you here?”

She paused for a moment, listening. Nothing.

“Owen—”

“I’m here.” She heard his voice just before he rounded the corner, stopping short when he saw the whole group of you. “Are those Scars?” he asked, genuinely surprised and definitely confused as hell.

Abby ignored the question. “I need whatever medical supplies you have.”

Before Owen could respond, Alice came barreling around the corner, barking aggressively at the perceived enemies.

The next few seconds were chaotic to say the least.

You screamed and jumped back. Lev reacted quickly, his bow drawn and an arrow notched.

“Alice, no!” Abby yelled out.

Owen grabbed for the German Shepherd, holding her back as she continued to lunge forward, trying to attack.

“Put the bow down! It’s okay!” Abby shouted.

Owen gripped the dog’s harness tightly. “Put that down!”

“Alice, shut up! Lev, put the bow down!”

“Alice, stop—Abby, what the fuck?!”

“Lev, listen to them! Put it down!” you insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder as you tried to push him behind you.

All of this happened simultaneously, muffled by the sound of deafening, echoing barking.

“Alice!” a new voice, one that Abby knew belonged to Mel, shouted. To her, the dog listened, sitting down obediently with one final bark.

Mel stood next to Owen and Alice, staring.

There was a moment of silence.

Abby turned to the young boy. “Lev, lower the bow. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, he listened.

“Abby, who are these people?” Mel asked.

“They saved my life,” she said, hoping that would be enough of an answer for now. “Can you take a look at her?” Abby looked down at Yara, who seemed to be barely conscious in her arms.

Mel dropped a hand on Alice’s head, instructing her to stay, as she slowly stepped closer, eyeing you and Lev cautiously.

“This is Yara,” Abby said before nodding over to the kid at her right, “That’s Lev. And that’s—” She stopped short. She wasn’t about to introduce you to them as Prophet.

Behind her, you spoke, offering up your name. Abby and Lev’s eyes both swung to you, widening for two entirely different reasons.

Abby’s because she was hearing your name for the first time. It was your name. It was like she discovered a brand new piece to this puzzle she had been frantically trying to assemble since the moment she saw you.

She wasn’t sure why Lev looked shocked, but it seemed like a big deal, for you to use your name in place of the title that had been forced upon you by the other Scars.

Abby quietly repeated the name, committing it to memory.

Mel gave a small nod, unaware of the mini revelation that was happening right in front of her, instead focusing on Yara with a concerned look on her face.

“What did this?” she asked, looking down at the girl’s mangled arm.

“A hammer,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right next to Abby.

“It wasn’t me,” Abby quickly added. Guilty, despite her innocence. She was ashamed that she needed to make that clarification. Worried about what you would think about it.

Mel hesitated, regarding each of the Scars one by one again before sighing. “Alright. Let’s lay her down.”

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The pregnant woman—clearly someone Abby knew but wasn’t exactly friendly with—decided that Yara had compartment syndrome, which apparently meant they would have to cut her arm off.

While everyone else argued about the best way to accomplish that task, you stood off to the side, feeling sick. If you had been able to stop Emily’s men last night, this wouldn’t be happening.

It shouldn’t be happening.

Yara was going to lose her arm or die because you failed her.

You were trying not to spiral. Trying to be helpful now. (Too little, too late.) Trying to pay attention to the Wolves’ conversation.

They didn’t have the supplies they needed to perform the amputation safely. Yara didn’t have time to wait the couple days it would take Abby to travel all the way to the hospital and back.

“What if we could get you there in two hours?” Lev asked, hands grasping the metal table where Yara laid in the center of the room. “The Wolf hospital, right? On the west side?”

The man—Owen—stood, interested. “How?”

“The bridges,” you said, realizing what Lev was getting at. All eyes turned to you. “Our people built them. High up.”

Lev nodded. “It’s how we get around the flooding. And… you people.”

After a quiet moment, Abby stepped forward. “Can she handle two hours?”

The woman considered this, her hand comfortingly placed on Yara’s shoulder. “Probably, yeah.”

Abby nodded. “Then make a list of what you need.”

Owen stepped closer, joining the circle the rest of you had formed around Yara. “Wait. Are you serious? Abby, these bridges are used by Scars.”

The fact that he was arguing against the plan frustrated you. Yara didn’t have time for this.

“They only send in small groups at a time,” Lev said.

“You heard that? Small groups.” Abby said, watching as the other woman jotted down the supplies on a loose piece of paper and handed it over.

“This isn’t a joke.” Owen looked only at Abby, trying to catch her eyes. She seemed to be actively avoiding making contact.

Instead, she turned to you and said your name, followed by, “Let’s go.”

You looked up at her, at a loss for words. It was sad that something as simple as hearing your name could have this effect on you, but it had been eight years since you’d heard it… And this was already the second time Abby had said it.

You wanted to turn and walk right out the door with her, happy to follow her anywhere, but reality set it.

“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t know where the hospital is. And I don’t know our bridges well enough to guide you. It will have to be Lev.” It looked like Abby might argue with you, or at least tell you to come with them.

You wanted to. The idea of letting Lev go back out into danger without you made you sick with worry. But, foolish as it may seem, you trusted Abby to look out for him. And you didn’t understand these other Wolves and the strange dynamic at play here. You certainly didn’t trust them to be alone with Yara.

“Someone needs to stay with her,” you said, holding Abby’s gaze.

She nodded, grabbing her backpack off the floor. “Alright. Lev.”

He looked to you, taking your hand in his. The group splitting up must’ve felt wrong to him, too.

Almost on instinct, you did what you had been trained to do. You offered a bit of comfort.

“May She guide you,” you said quietly, giving him a small, encouraging smile as you squeezed his one hand between both of yours.

The words were familiar to you both, a common Seraphite mantra. He reciprocated your tight grasp and finished the line, “May She protect you.”

When you released his hand, he placed it on Yara’s shoulder, as if to tell her goodbye as well. She was unresponsive.

You felt a hand fall on your own shoulder and looked up to find that it was Abby. She nodded her head to the opposite end of the room, impatiently taking your wrist in her hand and leading you over there when you didn’t immediately catch her meaning.

She didn’t let go.

Abby stood close, speaking quietly so that no one else could hear. “We’ll be back as soon as possible. Yara’s going to be fine, okay. And I’ll keep Lev safe.”

You couldn’t help the slight upward curve of your lips. “I know,” you said. “I trust you.”

She blinked, caught off guard, but continued. “I wouldn’t mention the whole you-being-the-Prophet thing to Owen and Mel if I were you.”

“I’m not a prophet,” you deadpanned.

She let out an exasperated breath. “Okay, sure. Well I wouldn’t tell them that the Scars think—”

“Seraphites,” you interjected.

“—Seraphites—Just… you get the point. Don’t mention it, okay?”

“What if they ask questions?”

“Dodge them. Be vague.”

“You don’t trust your friends?” you asked, more serious now.

“No,” Abby said. “Not with you.”

You couldn’t begin to guess what she meant by that.

“I trust them… for the most part.” She glanced at them over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again. “I just don’t know how they would react to that information. It’s not exactly a small thing. I don’t know what they would do with it.”

You looked at her for while longer, then nodded your head. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”

“Abby?” the man’s voice came from behind you.

She let go of your wrist immediately, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

You turned around to find the woman—Mel—and Owen both looking at you like they were witnessing something truly insane, instead of just two people having a conversation.

Lev stood on his own by the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eager to get moving.

From behind you, you felt Abby’s hand wrap around your wrist again, squeezing lightly and then letting go.

“We’ll be back,” she said, this time at a normal volume. She joined Lev by the door, opening it and leading the way out.

“Abby!” Owen said again, moving to follow them out.

Mel groaned, frustrated. “God! Owen, just let them go.” When he ignored her, she went after him, the door slamming loudly behind her.

You stayed behind with Yara.

She was blinking slowly, barely awake, her shallow breaths too few and far between for your liking. You felt helpless, knowing there wasn’t much you could do other than sit and wait.

You pulled up a chair.

Just outside the door, the two Wolves were arguing. Although, you only caught bits and pieces of it.

Something about Abby and Scars and a cloak… Something about someone who looked like she just stepped out of The Lord of the Rings. You didn’t know what that meant, but it was clear they were talking about you.

Again, you unfastened the cloak and freed yourself of your top layer. Whether that was due to embarrassment or a sudden recognition of the uncomfortable warmth of the room, you couldn’t tell.

“Did you see how she was looking at her?” “Owen, why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” you heard through the door.

The dynamic here was becoming more and more confusing.

You’d assumed that Owen was the father of Mel’s child, just because they seemed to live here together. But that didn’t explain Mel’s rather apparent unfavorable opinion of Abby. And it definitely didn’t explain Owen’s preoccupation with Abby.

Their conversation continued for several minutes, volume rising and falling periodically. There wasn’t much you understood and even less of it seemed important or interesting to you.

Eventually, the door swung open again, making you jump in your seat. Mel reentered the room, offering you a strained smile as she checked on Yara. You quietly watched her work.

“There’s not much we can do for her until Abby and your friend get back,” she said to you, eyes still focused on Yara. “If you want, I can get you set up with a place to sleep while we wait.”

“No,” you said, too quickly to be polite. “…Thank you. I’ll stay with Yara.”

Mel pulled her lips into a tight line and nodded, leaving the room again. She came back a few minutes later with water and a shiny red apple, offering them up for you to take.

“Sorry. I know it’s not much. Owen isn’t well-stocked on food right now,” she said after you’d accepted the snack.

You smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind to be helping us at all.”

Mel didn’t really answer, instead gesturing to the door as she walked toward it. “Well, we’ll… be around. If you need anything. And I’ll come in and check on her periodically.”

You nodded, quietly thanking her again. The discarded cloak that you’d left on a table by the door caught your eye. “Oh. Wait.”

She turned to face you again, eyebrows raised in question.

“What is The Lord of the Rings?” you asked.

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An excursion that was supposed to take two hours ended up taking nearly all day.

But hey, Abby had done the best she could.

She faced her deeply-rooted fear of heights on that sorry excuse for a bridge. She fought off Infected and Scars. She was, let’s say, detained by her fellow WLF soldiers at the hospital. And then she had to fight and kill what must’ve been the biggest, gnarliest, freakiest blob of cordyceps infection to ever exist.

She barely got out of there alive, but she managed to leave with the medical supplies in hand. Plus tons of new material for her future nightmares.

Mel had started operating as soon as they got back to the aquarium, with Owen assisting her.

You and Lev sat just outside the door the entire time.

The surgery had gone well. Yara was doing okay, all things considered.

After, Owen handed Abby a pile of sleeping bags and blankets and walked off without saying a word.

Abby handed them off to you and carefully lifted Yara again, this time to move her to a more comfortable spot to rest. She led the way to the next room, you and Lev trailing behind.

There was a long couch in the new room. You motioned for Lev to lay down on one end while Abby set Yara down on the other.

She stepped back and watched, amused, as you fussed over the two of them for a few minutes, using most of the blankets on your young friends.

When you were sure they were both as comfortable as possible, you left them to rest and walked back over to Abby. In your arms, you held the two sleeping bags that you hadn’t used on the kids.

You offered one of them to her.

She shook her head, motioning to the space on the floor in front of the couch where there was an old, worn-out rug.

“Lay mine out for me? I have to go do something before I go to sleep.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, looking concerned.

“I just need to talk to Owen. I’ll be right back.”

You studied her face, like you were trying to figure out whether or not she was being truthful.

Abby doubled down, pointing again. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

You sighed but went where she had pointed and began laying out the two sleeping bags.

One for you. One for her. Right next to each other on the floor.

You had been doing a good job of hiding it, but Abby could tell you were exhausted. She couldn’t blame you. Hell, she was exhausted. And the sooner she touched base with Owen, the sooner she could come back.

She turned and went out to track him down.

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You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

You had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, but you couldn’t fall asleep. Your mind was racing. Filled with worry for Yara, concern about her condition, guilt for having been unable to prevent the injury from happening in the first place. Thoughts of your own people hunting your friends with the intent to kill them. Fear that, despite your desire to keep them safe, your lack of knowledge and experience in the world outside of Haven would make that impossible.

You thought about the woman you killed yesterday. How she’d so tenderly and earnestly called you her Prophet just moments before you snuck up behind her and ended her life.

You wondered if you too were now an apostate. If the Seraphites had found the bodies of Emily and her men and assumed you were dead, or if they somehow knew that you betrayed them all the very moment you were given the chance.

You wondered if your mother knew what you had done. If she would be punished for your sins.

You thought about Abby, hoping that your faith in her was not misplaced. Hoping that your attraction to her hadn’t clouded your judgment.

This was crazy. All of it. It was too much.

You had tossed everything and everyone you’ve ever known aside, thrown the first twenty years of your life to the wind like it meant nothing at all, and run off into the forest with a Wolf without a second thought. And now that you, Yara, and Lev were finally (seemingly) not in immediate danger, you had time to think things through. Contemplate what you’d done and try to figure out where it left you.

By your own hand, your life had been irreparably changed forever. It was done. There was no undoing it. No going back.

You would stay with Lev and Yara. You would stay with Abby if that’s what she wanted.

But where would you go? It wasn’t safe for any of you to stay here.

That wasn’t a question you could answer. You didn’t know of anywhere else. You wouldn’t know how to find a place that was safe.

All of these thoughts bombarded your mind at once, taking turns at the forefront. Contradicting emotions swirled, adding to the chaos.

There was a sadness, a sense of loss for the people you had always belonged to.

Guilt and shame. Two feelings that were not at all foreign to you, but you had never felt as strongly as you did now.

A lightness. A happiness. Almost a thrill. A hopeful nervousness for the freedom you had claimed for yourself, the agency you had uncovered, and the possibility of what was to come.

Sadness, again, for the mother you would miss, and the realization that you had already been missing her for a very long time.

Frustration—simmering anger—for your childhood that was stolen and the shame that did not originate within yourself. The unrelenting voices that lived in your head, weighing in on every thought and critiquing every action. But those voices were not your own. You would take your dagger and cut their presence from your mind, carefully carving them out of your head and disposing of them yourself if you could.

And, amongst everything else taking up space inside of you, demanding your attention, it felt stupid and frivolous and wasteful, but you couldn’t keep Abby from your thoughts. She kept appearing, in the middle of it all. This was something that you truly did not have time for and should not be putting energy toward.

But you had never felt intrinsically drawn to someone in the way you were drawn to her…

Behind you, you could hear slow, heavy breaths coming from either end of the couch. You were glad that Lev and Yara were getting some rest. You’d do your best to make sure they got their fill of it this time.

You got up quietly, trying not to disturb them but feeling like you needed to move. You shook out your arms, rolled your neck around, wiggled your fingers, stretched your legs.

Honestly, you wanted run. Or hit something. Or scream. Loudly and for a long time. Until you ran out of air and your voice was ragged.

But you didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, you went to look for Abby.

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“Seriously? You’re telling me Isaac’s top Scar killer just… turned over a new leaf? Decided to befriend and help three Scars?” Mel was staring into Abby’s soul, her words dripping in disbelief.

Abby had found her and Owen upstairs, in the same room that had once housed the boat man’s skeleton and the couple’s Christmas stockings (not at the same time, of course).

Owen was angry. Exactly what she had done to earn his anger, she couldn’t say. He held a jar of his homemade moonshine. A jar that was somewhere between three-quarters and one half full. Abby assumed it had been filled to the top just a few minutes ago.

He had apparently decided to be a silent, brooding drunk tonight, so Mel had been the one to interrogate her.

Abby tried to explain everything, albeit keeping things pretty vague. She didn’t want to give them too much information about you specifically, and she didn’t want them to get the wrong idea about you, so she made sure to omit the part where you nearly gutted her. And the part where you were the new Scar Prophet that Isaac was after.

Mel wasn’t buying the part where Abby simply had a change of heart.

She shot Owen a cautious look before she said, “Abby, do you—I thought you might—Is it possible that you’re…” Mel stopped, gathering her thoughts, trying to find the best way to word it. “It’s not… like… a problem that she’s a woman. It’s just… it is kind of a big deal that she’s a Scar—”

“Abby isn’t into a fucking Scar,” Owen interjected, his knuckles white around the mouth of the jar. “And she’s not fucking gay.”

Then he started chugging the jar’s contents, forcing down swallow after painful swallow.

The women were both silent for a second, surprised by the anger in his words.

Abby didn’t know what to say. She knew she was into you—and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t at least part of the reason why she was helping you and your friends—but she had never considered if that made her gay.

She honestly didn’t really care to label herself as anything either way. It felt stupid—in the honest-to-god post-apocalyptic hellscape that they lived in, where they had been engaged in a never-ending war since they were kids—to care about that kind of thing.

Why should it matter—when her family was dead, her friends were constantly in danger, and there were enemies closing in from every angle—if she was romantically or sexually interested in men or women or both? Wasn’t that almost guaranteed to be the least important detail at any given moment? And why should she waste any of her time or energy trying to define herself in that way?

This was all really new to her. She hadn’t really let herself be interested in anyone since Owen, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she had ever been into him for the right reasons. Again, she remembered how uncomfortable it made her feel to kiss him, to be touched by him…

She couldn’t imagine that it would feel like that if you touched her. And just the fact that she hoped one day she’d find out was probably telling enough.

So maybe, in the Old World, people would’ve called Abby a lesbian. Maybe she would’ve identified with that title if things were different, if her life was lower stakes, and if she’d had more time to explore herself and her interests.

What-ifs didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here now. You were with her—and she needed to figure out a plan of how to proceed from here—so she could make sure to keep it that way. She could figure out the rest later.

Mel was the first to speak, annoyed, but addressing him calmly, like she was talking to a rabid animal. “Owen—”

He didn’t even let her get a word in.

“No. This is bullshit! Abby—” He looked past Mel to meet Abby’s gaze, insistent. “I’m going to Santa Barbara to find the Fireflies. If you’re smart, you’ll ditch the Scars and come with me.”

Mel slammed her hands on the table, causing both Abby and Owen to jump. “What the hell do you mean, you’re going to Santa Barbara?! We are going to Santa Barbara!” They weren’t used to seeing violent outbursts from Mel. She was the queen of passive aggression, but she rarely lost her cool. “What is wrong with you, Owen? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? This is all so seriously fucked up.” She turned away from them, clenching her fists at her sides, looking like she might cry. Or hit something. Or both.

But for the first time in years, Abby wasn’t on the receiving end of her disdain.

Guess all she had to do for her old friend to stop seeing her as a threat was get entangled with the Scar Prophet. No big deal.

Owen, in a moment of clarity, seemed to realize how huge of an asshole he was being to the mother of his child. He set down his jar, stood, and walked over to Mel, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her into him, her back pressed against his front. He was swaying on his feet, his cheeks flushed, hands clumsy. If he hadn’t been drunk before, he definitely was now. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. We are going to Santa Barbara. Of course it’s we. Hell, the Scars can come too for all I care. We’ll make it a party.”

Abby rolled her eyes at his quick switch-up and turned to go. Clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive tonight, with Owen drunk, Mel upset, and all of them exhausted beyond belief.

There was a creak by the door, and all three of them turned to look, Owen’s reaction far more delayed than Abby and Mel’s.

You stood there in your long white dress, hesitant to come in. Shy, having clearly interrupted a tense conversation.

Abby wondered how long you’d been standing there unnoticed. Her instinct was to meet you in the doorway and take you back to bed, away from Owen’s rude drunkenness and Mel’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hey! Scar! How the hell are ya? Come join us! We were just talking about sunny California. Ever been?” Owen pulled away from Mel and plopped back down on the couch, finding his jar again.

“Umm…” You looked to Abby for guidance, but she was just as unsettled as you. “No. I haven’t… Sorry, I was just looking for Abby.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” he mumbled under his breath. Abby wasn’t sure if you caught that, but she wasn’t interested in having you hear any more of this.

“Let’s just go,” she said to you, moving toward where you still stood in the doorway.

“No! Come! Sit! Let’s talk,” Owen insisted, slapping the spot next to him on the couch.

You gave Abby another hesitant look before walking past her to join Owen. Mel sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. When it became clear to her that retreating with you wasn’t an option right now, Abby walked back over. She stood right across from the couch so she could see you, leaned against the wall behind her with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sat next to Owen, although not so close, putting as much distance between you as possible.

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Abby wanted to punch him.

All of this was out of character for Owen, but she knew that he was always kind of unpredictable when he got drunk. With everything that had happened and emotions running so high, everyone really should just be going to sleep.

With that in mind, Abby would continue to stand nearby until you were ready to leave. She wouldn’t let things get out of hand.

“So… Scar—”

“Seraphite,” Abby corrected him. He scoffed and took another swig.

You smiled softly at her, looking grateful.

“Scar,” he said again. “Can I perhaps interest you in some hooch? Made it myself.” He offered up the jar for you to take, tilting it towards you with unsteady hands.

“No,” Abby immediately answered on your behalf. “She does not want any of your hooch.”

“Well give the girl a chance to answer,” he slurred. “What? Your little girlfriend can’t speak for herself? She can’t make her own decisions?”

You glanced back and forth between him and her, reaching for the open jar of clear liquid, properly baited by his taunting words.

Abby tried to remember that Owen was her friend—her best friend—and that he wasn’t usually like this.

“What is… hooch?” you asked, staring down into the glass jar suspiciously.

“It’s moonshine,” Abby said. When that didn’t clear things up for you, she added, “Alcohol.”

“Like wine?” you asked, tentatively sniffing it.

Owen laughed. Abby nodded, “Kind of, but it’s much stronger. Seriously, you won’t like it.”

There was a flash of something that looked like defiance in your eyes, offense taken at the idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle something that others could.

You put the jar to your lips and tilted it back enough to take in a generous mouthful.

Abby watched as your eyes went wide and you struggled to swallow it. Honestly, she was impressed that you didn’t immediately spit it out. You managed to choke it down before breaking out in a harsh coughing fit.

Owen laughed, accepting the jar as you shoved it back into his hands. Your eyes watered as you tapped on your sternum, taking a second to regain the ability to speak.

“You made that?” you wheezed in disbelief.

“Yep!”

“On purpose?”

Abby laughed at that, leaning back against the wall again once she was convinced that you weren’t dying.

“Hey, that’s prime hooch! You should be thanking me right now.” Owen took his own swig of it, lounging back against the couch with his arm resting along the back.

“Thank you?” You squinted your eyes but tried to be polite.

“I was kidding, princess. You don’t have to thank me.”

Abby, again, resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

“So,” Owen began, “tell me. How is it that you’re a Scar… but you’re not scarred?” He chuckled to himself, as if he had made a joke.

Your eyes shot to meet Abby’s, clearly unprepared to answer that question.

“Not every Seraphite has facial scars,” you said, keeping things vague.

“Every Scar I’ve ever seen does.”

“You’ve seen me, haven’t you?” you shot back.

Abby let out a surprised laugh. Owen clenched his jaw.

“Every Scar has face scars. It’s like your defining thing. It’s why we call you Scars.” He was adamant, unyielding. And the playful mask was starting to slip back into anger. Abby could tell this wasn’t going to end well.

“Well I guess you don’t know as much about Seraphites as you thought you did.” You were frustrated now, pressing yourself further into the far end of the couch to put more distance between the two of you.

Owen opened his mouth with a rebuttal, but Abby jumped in. “Lay off, Owen.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the brown cushions. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Forgive me for having questions. Fuck me, I guess. I’ve just never seen a hot Scar befo—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Mel was on her feet. “Alright. That’s it. You’re done.” She had been sitting silently up until then, ready to intervene if things got out of hand, just as Abby had been. Apparently, Owen calling you hot was where she drew the line.

Abby was glad Mel was saying something. Because if things had gone much further, she really might’ve hit him.

“Get up,” Mel instructed firmly, standing over him. “You’re going to bed.” He let her take the jar out of his hands and, with much effort, pushed himself up off the couch and started walking toward the door. Mel was right behind him, hands hovering on either of his sides in case he lost his balance. He was grumbling under his breath the whole way, like a toddler whose bedtime was being enforced.

Abby watched them go.

Once they were out of sight, she looked down at you, only to find that you were already looking at her.

“Sorry,” she spat out. “About him. He’s not usually like that.”

You nodded, but you didn’t seem sure that you believed her.

“So you guys are… friends?”

Abby cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’ve known each other for years. Joined the WLF together. Me, Owen, Mel, and a few others.”

You considered this for a second before responding. “Where were you before?”

“Salt Lake City,” she said, looking down at her feet. “Utah.” Abby didn’t know if that would mean anything to you.

“Mel doesn’t seem to like you very much,” you said, observant, not trying to offend. Abby smiled, despite the meaning behind your words. You added, “And Owen doesn’t seem to like me.” You stated it like it was a fact, like it was neither good nor bad, just true.

“He’ll get over it. He’s just drunk.” Abby didn’t know if that was true, but she wanted to comfort you in that moment, not that you actually seemed to care all that much about Owen’s opinion of you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You were looking up at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Anything, Abby thought. Out loud, she said, “Sure.”

She pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to you on the couch, filling the spot where Owen had been.

“Why do you people keep calling me princess?” you asked. Abby laughed quietly under her breath, turning her body to face you.

“I don’t know. There’s something about you that’s very princess-like I guess.”

You made a face at her. She smiled wider.

“It’s not a bad thing. You just come across as soft. Delicate. I don’t know… Graceful.”

“I am not delicate,” you said, defensive.

“I know.”

“I’ve killed.”

“I saw.” Abby was being serious, although she did find the conversation amusing. “You’re very skilled with a knife.”

You nodded, satisfied with her response, and fully turned to face Abby. “And what does hot mean? Why did he call me hot?”

“Oh—” Abby stuttered, “Uh—He meant… He was saying that you’re very pretty.”

“Oh.” You considered this, eyes wandering away. “Earlier he said I look like The Lord of the Rings.”

Abby smiled again. There was something about you that felt like it might’ve been taken straight from the high fantasy genre.

“Do you know what that is?” she asked.

“Yes. Sort of. I asked Mel. She said it was a film about a magical land. With fairies and stuff.”

“They were books first.”

“Have you read them?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you read a lot of books?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I try to read as much as I can. Whatever’s available.”

You nodded, thinking, letting the conversation die down.

After a moment, “Abby?”

“Hmm?” she hummed. She liked the way you said her name. Just the sound of it made her heart beat a little bit faster.

“Owen also called me your girlfriend.” You were studying her face, trying to read her reaction.

“Yeah. He did.” Abby said, looking into your inquisitive eyes.

“Does that just mean friend? Or is it something else?”

“He was just trying to piss me off.”

“So it does mean something else?” Your eyes were on her lips now, and you were ever so slightly leaned forward. Almost subconsciously.

“It doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

She was pushing you away, and she didn’t know why. She could’ve answered that question so differently. Maybe she should’ve.

Abby wanted you. And she was almost certain that you felt the same way. At the very least, there was a curiosity. A hesitant attraction.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. That anything with you would be something she wasn’t good enough for.

Something she didn’t deserve.

Something she would ruin if given the chance.

So tonight, she didn’t give herself that chance.

Was that noble or cowardly? She wasn’t sure.

You pulled away, turning to face forward as you let out a long breath, puffing out your cheeks.

“I’m tired,” you said, standing. “And I should check on Yara and Lev.”

“Yeah.” Abby nodded. “Okay.”

She remained in place, ready to mentally beat herself up some more and stew in her thoughts alone for a while.

You cleared your throat lightly, swaying on your feet. “Umm… I’m not sure that I can find my way back to the room. Can you… please—?”

“Oh.” Abby hopped to her feet. “Okay, yeah. I’ll… I guess I’ll go with you.”

She avoided eye contact, leading the way into the dark hallway.

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic

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leathermouthproxies · 1 year

Text

Proxy boys with afab sub reader smut headcanons

This was on Ao3 first so follow me there to keep up with my full length fics. Anyways here's my headcanons from hardest to softest doms.

Masky

Names he likes being called: Sir. Pretty much insists on it in bed

Names he likes to call reader: pet, kitten or puppy, whore, doll, little girl

Kinks: Brat Taming, bondage, weapon play, pet play, likes seeing you wearing tail plugs, so anal, CNC, size kink, predator and prey play, squirting, choking, breeding, huge sadist, impact play, will smack you if you're ok with it, having you hump his leg or boot

Tits or ass: Ass Fav position: mating press, your knees behind your head

Giving or receiving head: RECEIVING

He loves being completely in control, overstimulating you, humiliating you (he loves seeing you all flustered), degrading you, forcing you to squirt over and over, just completely using and destroying you, also loves seeing you wear things that claim you as his, like a collar or a necklace with his name on it. Likes playing little games with you, tag, hide and go seek, grabbing you from behind when you don't know he's there, gets a rise out of you being scared.

“Little whore loves getting fucked stupid huh?” “Aww did stupid forget how to talk? Come on kitten you've only cum 3 times I know you can give me some more.” "You know how happy Tim will be when I breed our baby into you? He loves seeing my bimbo be his domestic little wife." "I bet the neighbors know my name"

This man is literally a demon possessing Tim like how can he GO FOR SO LONG

Tim usually fronts for after-care. If Masky ever stops on his own his aftercare consists of him bringing you water, pulling you up on his chest, and praising you, which makes you flustered, which makes him hard, which then usually leads to round 2. Or 3. Or 4. Or until Tim fronts and sees you as a puddle of drool and tears and raspy moans under him.

Brian

Daddy. HUGE daddy dom

Princess, darling, baby girl, pretty, little girl

dd/lg, recording (exhibitionism), will ask for pictures or videos of you masturbating if he's out of the house for more than like. An hour. Has definitely asked Tim or Masky to record them fucking you for him to watch, so voyeurism, squirting but like not in an AGGRESSIVE way like Masky, praising, marking, bondage, having you grind on his leg or knee, mirrors, freak ass hoe for sure has a mirror across from and above the bed, lil bit of choking but again not as hard as Masky does it, creampies (seriously these guys love to cum inside you better get yourself an iud), edging

Tits

Standing (mans takes advantage of the operator strength), missionary, really anywhere that's not in a bed, kitchen counter, couch, car, against a tree in the forest, just in any position that he can pop a titty in his mouth or leave a hickey on your neck.

Honestly its 50/50 with oral, thinks you're adorable when he eats you out but also loves when you gag on his cock

Loves being completely in control but not in a forceful way like Masky, more in a “I want to see you melt under me” kind of way. Honestly he's so good at making you melt that you're not as bratty with him as you are with Masky. Still kind of bratty tho. While Masky likes forced orgasms, Brian loves edging you until you're begging and babbling. LOVES to praise you, loves when you're good for him, doesn't like to punish you but will turn into a hard dom if you get bratty or cum without permission.

“Such a pretty baby, gunna milk daddy's cock dry princess?” "Oh, were you close? I'm sorry baby girl, let's try that again." "Wave to the camera darlin', you know the other boys love when you look 'em in the eye." "Are you cum drunk already angel? That's okay, just let your daddy take care of you. You're so cute when you're all fucked out like this" "daddy's little princess"

Masky can fuck for hours but Brian loooves foreplay, he can toy with you for hours

Hoodie's the king of aftercare but Brian’s a close runner up

Will clean you up or carry and hold you in the shower if you want, make you go pee, bring you water or tea, wrap you both in a blanket, make sure he didn't cross any lines, be super soft with you, kiss kiss kiss kiss kISS

Toby

Listen to me

Hear me out HEAR ME OUT

I know we all think toby is a sub

And YES he looks like he gets pegged.

But I am telling you. I AM TELLLINNNG YOU.

This is not the case.

My boy is UN FUCKING HINGED

Cool with anything you want to call him, but his favorite is when you scream his name

Toby canonically comes from German ancestry and idk if the creator went further into that but I like to think his mom and dad are German immigrants, and toby has been to Germany to visit family so he can speak fluent German.

Bro be babblin’ shit out. Engel, babe, schätzchen, slut, sexy, schnucki, cum dump, mein angebetete, bunny, schatz, sweetheart, mieze, I mean he has tourettes so he really just calls you whatever comes to mind, accidentally called you manic pixie dream girl unironically one time and Tim still makes fun of him for it

Marking, biting, being bit, blood play, honestly probably period sex, he's a freak man fr, weapon play for sure, face shots, he would cover your entire body in his cum if he could cum that much, loves experimenting, having power over you, manhandling, VERY rough in bed, usually just from being over excited and not knowing what hurts people

Definitely accidentally blurted out that he would eat you if he could one time Was hot in the moment but he had some explaining to do during after care

We love our little cannibal don't we folks

Tits guy but loves shoving your face into the mattress and pulling your ass up into him, shower sex, again willing to try any position once

Loves the taste of you and will eat it like a demon but HUGE fan of getting some sloppy top. And I mean SLOPPY. He loves when you drool and gag

This guy just loves sex. Loves seeing you squirm under him, loves using you like his sex doll, probably calls you that too. Mans gets excited and VOCAL.

Toby also doesn't stutter in the original story but you know what? Eat my ass we have all headcanoned a stutter. It just lessens when he's confident- ie: making you his bitch. Although he still has tourettes and apparently disorganized speech as a symptom of his schizophrenia.

“Ich-ich möchte d-d-den, um, rest mein-n-nes lebensss mit dir vvver–rbringen” "hey y/n- pretty baby gonna make you scream tonight- hav-ve you sssseen my sch-ch-etch book“ "Ich w-w-w-erde dich für immmmer und ewig lieb-ben.” “JESUS-god-FUCK youre sssexy” “toby its 9 in the morning.” “Du siehst verboten gu-gut aus” "whore whorrre wh-h-hore yes fuck perfect whore aren't you?" "Your blood tastes so good." “Y-yeah, du liebst diesen schwanz in dir, nicht wahr hure?”

Sorry it's all German I just feel like he gets so in the moment that he kind of goes out of body and doesn't even realize what he's saying

His after care is kissing you all over your entire face and then conking the fuck out on your tits. Will more than likely wake up hard and ready again. If he doesn't pass out after the kisses he will open ubereats and ask what you want LOL

Hoodie

Ok Hoodie and Tim are on the same level of dom-ness but hoodie is more protective so he goes first

One thing he and Brian have in common: daddy. Hoodie also likes sir

Hoodie is usually non verbal but will talk sometimes when he's feeling particularly passionate, usually in a very monotone and even tone

When he does talk he calls you sickly sweet names

My love, precious, perfect

Collars, long makeout seshes, stomach bulging/ size kink. Tummy shots. Tummy. Shots. Loves putting you in pretty dresses OR his hoodie. He doesn't really have a lot of kinks, he just loves making love to you for hours. That's right you're not getting fucked when you're with him you're getting made LOVE to

.Feet. LMFAOOOOO

Usually tried to keep it on the downlow but one time while he was fucking he had your feet on his shoulders and. Suddenly he had a toe in his mouth before he could stop himself

Toby heard about it and now one of his tics is "foot boy" One time the guys were staking out a target in a mall when Toby looked at Brian and instantly yelled "FOOT BOY FOOT BOY". Tim laughed so hard he cried. They had to leave.

Brian hates Hoodie so much.

Anyways

Dude is EXTREMELY gentle with you, seriously treats you like you're made of glass. Also if this were a cartoon his eyes would turn into hearts every time he looked at you

He usually likes when you're on top, sitting on his lap while he told you close

But he will also HAPPILY oblige with anything you ask forAs long as you feel good that's all he wants

This guy

This fucking guy

Will eat.

For an eternity if you let him.

I am serious sometimes he eats until you safeword, like you RARELY have to safeword with any of the boys and the only time you ever had to with Hoodie is when he eats you out to the point where you literally feel like you're going to pass away. It’s kind of rare for him to not listen to your “ok I can't take it anymore”’s but sometimes he just can't get a hold of himself, it's like he goes out of body. Will end everything and go full aftercare mode for the safe word though.

He just loves to love you, he's the most protective, will carry you anytime you let him, always wants to be touching you, will do anything to make you happy even if it's not necessarily a good idea

If he witnesses someone be mean to you he WILL kill them of you don't explicitly tell him not to

Masky has to wait for Brian to front or send Hoodie out of the house to fuck you

This rule was made because one time Hoodie fronted while Masky was doing some impact play and Hoodie heard you scream. Hoodie almost choked Masky to death. It was a whole thing. It also turned into a 3 way. Anyways.

Point is you ask for the moon he'll bring you the whole solar system Thinks your whimpers are the cutest shit in the entire world, LOVES your soft little quiet moans

Again, really doesn't talk much, keeps things short and simple if he really has to speak

You think the longest sentence you've heard Hoodie say is when you asked if he could get some snacks while he was at the grocery store and while putting his shoes on he deadpan replied "I would eat a lightbulb if you asked me to." You took that as a yes.

But sometimes he says little worships and sweet nothings during sex

Now HOODIEHE is the king of aftercare

Goes super soft, again acts like you're made of glass, will gently lay you back down on the pillows, clean you off or carry you into the shower, again make sure you pee (ladies always take a girl-piss after sex), get you ice if you have bruises (usually from the other guys) hold you close and cover you both with the blankets, one of the rare times he talks is to ask you what you need from him, and again he will give you ANYTHING

He's so girl coded

Tim

Tim and hoodie have a lot in common actually

Again, daddy

I'm sorry they're all daddy af

Bear, teddy bear, handsome

Honey, doll, baby, darlin’

Just loves sweet lazy sex, but also not really because he loves spanking LOL

Not really a kink but him and hoodie love seeing you in pretty little dresses and skirts, tights or knee high socks, loves pulling your skirt up and plowing you Loves seeing you do lil domestic things, LOVES fucking to music, worships your body, literally thinks you have the most perfect body, gagging, spanking, loves when you dress up for him, lingerie and the occasional costume, definitely likes when you have a toy in you while you go about your day, either plug or vibrator, back shots

Honestly probably goes for anal when him and Brian dp you, so definitely is into you wearing plugs

Thighs and ass

Bro looooves your thighs

Asks you to smother him with them like once a day

69ing, getting his face sat on, fucking while you guys are on your side, again soft and lazy

He can drill you into the mattress if asked but prefers it soft

Mans EATS.

Remember how I said he loves thighs and ass?

This is exactly why he wants you to sit on it face Also why he likes 69ing, you're usually focusing on him while you're sucking his fat ass cock so you don't notice when you accidently settle to much and put all of your weight on his face which is EXACTLY his plan

He has had to tap out a couple times from almost suffocating

Anyways

Tim is obsessed with your body, wants it against him all of the time.

Cuddle. Fucking. MONSTER.

Toby and Hoodie are clingy 24/7 but Tim really values alone time with you and takes full advantage by being all over you. He also takes the protective roll when Hoodie's not around. He loves his little wife (doesn't matter if you're not married you're his little wife)

Also I don't think Tim is really as shy as a lot of people make him out to be

"Come sit that pretty ass on my cock, doll" "so soft and warm up against me baby" “Are you wearing all this just for me? Come give me a twirl, hun’” “please PLEASE just one chance I am on my knees BEGGING” “TIM I DON'T CARE IF YOU'LL GET HEALED I'M NOT BREAKING YOUR NECK WITH MY ASS”

Like I said Tim usually fronts mid fuck (well, is it mid fuck if you've been going for like 3 hours?) for Masky and kind of panics when he sees you SO fucked out It's kind of hot but he knows your ass is dehydrated

"Oh fuck, you good??"

Definitely felt really guilty the first time he saw the state Masky put you in before you assured him you fully were into it

Will clean you, probably untie you, get you ice and painkillers, and then make sure Masky didn't cross any lines

Masky is actually really good with consent, making sure things are okay before trying them for the first time, making sure you remember your safe word, but Tim still doesn't trust him

But with Tim's soft sweet sex aftercare usually isn't needed He just gives you sweet kisses and then asks if you're hungry <3

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