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pucksandpower · 23 days

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Lover

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the little (and not so little) ways that you and Charles show your love for each other

You’re in the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you listen intently to Charles’ mother give you her famous tiramisu recipe step-by-step. “Now, this next part is very important,” she stresses. “You’ll need one cup of granulated sugar to add to the mascarpone filling.”

“Got it, one cup sugar for the filling,” you confirm.

Pascale chuckles warmly. “I’m so glad Charles has found such a lovely girl who wants to learn my recipes. He’s always loved my tiramisu since he was a little boy.”

You smile, touched by her kind words. You and Charles have been together for a year now, but it still makes your heart flutter to be so accepted into his close-knit family.

“It means so much to me that you’re sharing this recipe with me,” you tell Pascale sincerely.

You chat with her a while longer, going over some of the trickier steps and getting tips on how to best soak the ladyfingers. Finally, you have the full recipe memorized and are ready to give it a try.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Thank you so much again, Pascale! I really appreciate you taking the time to walk me through this.”

“Of course, ch��re! Let me know how it turns out. Charles is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful girlfriend,” Pascale says warmly before hanging up.

You grin, eager to get started. You know tiramisu is Charles’ absolute favorite dessert and you want to surprise him with a homemade version tonight after he finally comes back from his latest race.

Humming to yourself, you gather the ingredients — mascarpone, eggs, espresso, cocoa powder, and of course, the sugar. You double check you have everything and preheat the oven so the ladyfingers will be perfect.

As you start the recipe, you feel a rush of excitement. You follow each step meticulously, Pascale’s voice guiding you in your mind. You carefully separate the eggs and beat the whites to stiff peaks. When it’s time to add the sugar to the mascarpone filling, you pause.

Now, which one was the sugar again? You look between the two identical jars of white powder, second-guessing yourself.

Shoot, you should have labeled them.

After a moment of hesitation, you decide on the bowl on the left. Yes, that must be sugar, you reassure yourself. You mix it into the silky mascarpone filling until it’s perfectly combined. Once assembled, you spread the filling over the ladyfingers and cover it with a final dusting of cocoa powder.

It looks absolutely beautiful. You did it! You made Charles’ favorite dessert completely from scratch. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he takes the first delicious bite.

You glance at the clock as you clean up. Charles will be home soon. You carefully store the tiramisu in the fridge to chill until after dinner.

Right on time, you hear Charles’ keys in the lock. You hurry to greet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you!”

He grins and nuzzles your neck. “And I missed you, ma belle.”

Over dinner on the balcony, Charles tells you all about the race and his ambitious one-stop strategy under the Suzuka cherry blossoms. You listen attentively, asking questions and laughing at his dramatic reenactments.

Finally, it’s time for dessert. “I have a surprise for you,” you say with a playful smile.

Charles’ eyes light up. “Oh really? Do tell!”

You bring the chilled tiramisu to the table, along with two small plates and forks. “Ta-da! I made your favorite, with your mom’s secret recipe.”

“No way, you’re kidding!” Charles exclaims. He takes in the layered dessert with delight. “It looks incredible, mon cœur. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

You blush happily as you dish out servings for both of you. “I hope I did it justice. Your mom walked me through the whole thing over the phone.”

Charles takes a big eager bite, closing his eyes as he savors it. “Mmm … it’s absolutely delicious,” he declares after swallowing. “Seriously, this is amazing. Here, you have to try it!”

He holds out a forkful toward you. You accept it into your mouth, immediately bursting into incredulous laughter. “Oh my god, this is so salty! I definitely screwed up somewhere. You don’t have to eat it!”

But Charles just grins and takes another hearty bite. “What do you mean? It tastes perfect to me.”

You stare at him in confusion. “You can’t actually like this, Charles. It’s like I poured the entire salt shaker in by accident.”

“No no, it’s great! The best tiramisu I’ve ever had,” he insists. Seeing your disbelief, he takes your hand from across the table. “Really, Y/N. I love it because you made it just for me. With love. That’s what makes it so special.”

You feel your insides turn soft and melty at his words. “You’re just saying that to be nice,” you protest weakly.

He shakes his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because ...” He pauses, looking into your eyes sincerely. “Because I’m completely in love with you, mon amour. I’d eat a thousand salty tiramisus if it made you smile like this.”

You can’t help the joyful laugh that escapes you. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” You tease him.

“Only for you,” he flirts back with a playful wink.

You lean across the table to kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, the adoration shining in his green eyes leaves you breathless.

Maybe he’s right. It doesn’t matter that the tiramisu is an utter fail. All that matters is that you made it with love.

And that’s the sweetest taste of all.

***

It’s been a few weeks since your salty tiramisu mishap. You and Charles laughed about it afterwards, but you were still determined to make him something special with your own two hands.

So you decided to take up crocheting. It was trickier than you expected, but you persevered, watching YouTube tutorials and getting tangled in yarn for hours.

Finally, after a month of work, you’ve produced your first wearable creation — a sweater for Charles.

It’s an oversized style, cream colored with red racing stripes across the chest. You did your best to evenly stitch the rows, but there are gaps in some places that cause the stripes to waver drunkenly.

The sleeves are several inches too long, dangling adorably over Charles’ hands when he tries it on. And the neckline gapes open no matter how he tugs it.

But none of the flaws matter to Charles. His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when you present it to him.

“You made this? For me?” He asks as he eagerly pulls it on.

You nod, suddenly shy. “I wanted to make something special for you, even if my skills are still .... developing,” you admit with an embarrassed chuckle.

But Charles is beaming, admiring himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it. This is the best gift ever!”

He engulfs you in a big hug, sleeves flopping over you. You hug him back, relieved and happy he appreciates your efforts.

From that day on, Charles insists on wearing the sweater constantly, even styling it with whatever eclectic pants he decides to wear on race weekends.

You try to discourage him — the holes along the hem are getting bigger from snagging and the neckline is truly unsalvageable.

But Charles won’t hear it. “Are you kidding? This is my new lucky charm!” He declares. “I have to wear it for every race now.”

Sure enough, he starts a winning streak whenever he dons your handmade sweater, even though it’s quite a departure from the fitted shirts and designer hoodies he previously favored, leaving his fans scratching their heads at the sudden change.

You watch in amused endearment as he proudly wears your gift for candid pre-race interviews and photo-ops. The overlong sleeves just make his exuberant gestures even more adorable.

Finally, a reporter works up the courage to ask him about the quirky sweater. “That’s quite a statement piece you have been arriving in each Sunday,” the reporter comments during a press conference. “What made you decide to wear it?”

Charles’ face lights up even more. “My sweater? It was handmade for me by my incredible girlfriend,” he announces, making you blush furiously from the audience.

“She worked so hard on it, even though crocheting is totally new to her. So I wear it to show how much I appreciate her and how talented she is,” he continues sincerely.

The reporters “aww” as Charles shows off the uneven stitches like they’re couture. “It’s my good luck charm now too! She put so much love into making it that I feel like I can’t lose whenever I have it on.”

He looks directly at you, eyes shining. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, because she made it just for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with someone so thoughtful and caring.”

You have to wipe away joyful tears at his heartfelt words. You never imagined your clumsy crocheting would come to mean so much to him.

But Charles wears that sweater for every race, no matter how tattered it gets. Because for him, it represents something priceless — your love.

***

You hum along to the radio as you stir the melted chocolate in a bowl. The rich aroma fills the air of your shared apartment. Today is Valentine’s Day and you want to surprise your boyfriend with homemade chocolate-covered strawberries when he gets home from training.

You dip the first plump, red strawberry into the silky chocolate, letting the excess drip off before placing it gently onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. One by one, you coat each strawberry, taking care to fully submerge them.

When the tray is full, you quickly pop one glistening strawberry into your mouth and slide the rest into the fridge to let the chocolate harden. As you wait, you tidy up the kitchen, washing the bowls and utensils used to make the treat. A glance at the clock on the microwave tells you Charles will be home soon.

The sound of the front door opening makes you grin. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls out.

You grab the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and head towards his voice. “Welcome home! I have a surprise for y-”

You stop short, your throat suddenly feeling scratchy and tight. Your lips tingle oddly.

Confused, you lift a hand to your neck. Is this just excitement to see Charles? But no, your tongue is starting to swell now too. Your breathing becomes labored.

Charles rounds the corner. “Mon ange, what’s wro-” His eyes widen as he takes in your distress. In a few quick strides he is by your side, the tray clattering forgotten to the floor. “What’s happening?”

You wheeze, barely able to force out words. “Can’t … breathe …”

Charles sweeps you into his arms and runs for the front door. “Hospital. Now.”

You cling to him, each ragged breath a struggle. The world seems to blur and tilt alarmingly.

Then somehow you’re in Charles’ car, speeding down the street. One of his hands grips the wheel while the other clutches yours tightly. “Just hold on, stay with me. We’re almost there.”

You try to respond but only manage a choked gurgle. Black spots swim across your vision. A feeling of detachment steals over you.

The car screeches to a stop outside the emergency department entrance. Charles lifts you from the passenger seat, calling for help. There is a flurry of activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushes over with a gurney.

You are barely aware of being wheeled into an exam room, too focused on trying to pull air into your lungs. A mask is fitted over your face, dispensing blessed oxygen. An IV is inserted into your arm.

The medical staff works quickly, asking Charles questions as they begin treatment. Antihistamines. Steroids. Epinephrine. The medications slowly start to counteract your reaction. The vice-like tightness in your chest and throat gradually lessens.

After what feels like an eternity, you are able to take full breaths again. The room comes back into focus, no longer spinning. Charles sits at your bedside, clutching your hand, his handsome face creased with worry.

The doctor examines you, nodding with satisfaction as your symptoms continue to improve. “It appears you had a severe allergic reaction. We’ll run some tests to determine the cause.”

Charles looks stricken. “But how? What could have possibly …” His gaze falls on your swollen lips. “The strawberries,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. It had to have been. You’ve never reacted to them before, but an allergy can develop at any time.

Charles smoothes back your hair, distress pouring off of him. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur. I should have been there with you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t have known. I’m okay now thanks to you.”

He just shakes his head, unconvinced.

The testing confirms it — you are now mysteriously allergic to strawberries. The doctor gives you an EpiPen prescription and strict instructions to the fruit in the future.

After several more hours of observation, you are finally discharged from the hospital with an exhausted Charles supporting you.

The sun has long since set on what was supposed to have been a romantic Valentine’s Day. Instead, you spent it swollen and terrified in the ER.

Back home, Charles tucks you into bed, insisting you rest. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror — puffy-faced and red-eyed — and cringe. Some Valentine you turned out to be.

You reach for Charles’ hand again. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening. I wanted it to be perfect but instead I ended up scaring you half to death and forcing you to rush me to the hospital.”

Charles silences you with a gentle kiss. “Not another word, mon amour. You have nothing to apologize for. All that matters is that you are safe.”

He caresses your cheek, looking at you with such love and tenderness it makes your heart ache. “You could never ruin anything. You are the light of my life — my everything. No Valentine’s Day is complete without you.”

You feel yourself tearing up. Even after the ordeal of this evening, he still looks at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re still the most beautiful Valentine I’ve ever had, you know that? A little swelling can’t hide that.” Charles brushes away your tears and pulls you close. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You nestle into his embrace, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. As you drift off, you can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are to have this man. Even at your puffiest and most distressed, he thinks you’re beautiful.

No matter what surprises life throws at you, with Charles by your side you know everything will be okay. He loves you unconditionally — swollen lips, hospital visits, and all.

***

“Close your eyes,” you say to Charles as you lead him into the living room.

He laughs and covers his eyes with his hands. “What are you up to, mon amour?”

You grin, though he cannot see it. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

You guide him across the room, hands on his shoulders. He shuffles along, peeking through his fingers.

“No peeking!” You scold, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, smiling.

You position him in front of the coffee table. “Okay,” you say. “You can open your eyes now.”

Charles drops his hands. On the table sits a large gift-wrapped box with a massive red bow on top. His eyes go wide with surprise and delight.

“For me?”

You nod, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “Happy birthday!”

He pulls you into a tight hug. “You are too good to me, ma belle. Thank you.” Leaning down, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “You don’t even know what it is yet! Open it.”

Charles grins and turns his attention to the present. He carefully unties the bow and lifts the lid on the box. Inside sits a sleek red bomber jacket with the Ferrari logo embroidered on the chest. He runs his fingers over the leather appreciatively.

“This is beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Look on the back,” you prompt.

Charles turns the jacket over. Across the back, in bold white letters, it reads: DADDY.

His eyes go wide again, and for a moment he just stands there gaping at the jacket. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a dead faint.

“Charles!” You rush to his side, kneeling next to him on the plush carpet. Gently you pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. “Charles, wake up!”

After a few tense moments, his eyelashes begin to flutter. You breathe a sigh of relief as he opens his eyes.

“Wha … what happened?” He mumbles.

“You fainted, silly.”

You help him sit up slowly. He puts a hand to his head, still looking dazed.

“I had the strangest dream …” He trails off, glancing around the room. His gaze lands on the jacket lying nearby, and his eyes widen again.

“It wasn’t a dream,” you say softly.

Charles looks at you, lips parted in shock. “Then you … you’re …”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “I’m what?”

“Pregnant!” He exclaims. “We’re having a baby!”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “What? No! I’m not pregnant!”

Charles frowns, thoroughly bewildered. “But the jacket said … I thought it was your way of telling me we’re expecting.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The jacket is for a very different reason.”

He looks almost disappointed. “It is?”

You take his hands in yours. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog for months now, ever since you met Mimi.”

Comprehension begins to dawn on Charles’s face. “So the jacket …”

“Is for our new puppy!” You finish excitedly.

Charles’ face lights up. “You got me a dog? Really?”

You nod, grinning. “Really! I picked him up yesterday from the shelter. He’s the cutest little dachshund, white with brown spots. I’ve been keeping him at your brother’s so I could surprise you today.”

Charles whoops and tackles you in another ecstatic hug. You laugh as he covers your face in rapid, smacking kisses.

“This is the best birthday surprise ever!” He crows. “I can’t believe we’re finally getting a dog. And the jacket — it’s perfect!”

He grabs the bomber and shrugs it on over his t-shirt. It fits him flawlessly, the white lettering bold against the red.

Charles scrambles to his feet and rushes to the nearest mirror, twisting this way and that to admire himself. “I love it! Thank you, thank you!”

You stand and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so glad. But you should really be thanking your new baby boy.”

Charles turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”

You grin up at him. “Hmm, I don’t recall. Feel free to remind me.”

“You …” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Are …” kiss “The …” kiss “Most …” kiss “Thoughtful …” kiss “Loving …” kiss “Girlfriend …” kiss “In …” kiss “The …” kiss “World.”

You pretend to swoon. “My, what a sweet talker you are.”

He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. When you break apart, his eyes are shining.

“So when do I get to meet our new baby?” He asks eagerly.

“Right now, if you want,” you say. “We can go pick him up from Lorenzo.”

Charles pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! I’m going to be the best dog dad ever, just you wait and see.” He crouches down and coos, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”

You pat his head playfully. “You’re a good boy.”

Taking your hand, he practically drags you out the door, babbling excitedly about names, beds, toys, and treats for the puppy the whole way to the car. Your heart swells watching his enthusiasm. You know that dog is going to be the most loved and cared for pup in the world.

When you arrive at his brother’s apartment, Charles bounds up to the front door ahead of you, unable to contain his excitement. Lorenzo opens it laughing, the wiggling brown and white puppy in his arms.

“Someone’s here to see you!” He says, handing the squirming bundle of fluff to Charles.

“Hello, hello!” Charles cuddles the puppy to his chest, his whole face alight with pure joy. The pup responds by licking every inch of Charles’ face he can reach.

Charles laughs delightedly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest boy? Yes you are!”

He looks up at you, eyes shining. “Thank you, mon cœur. This is the best gift I could have asked for.”

You lean in and scratch the puppy behind his silky ears. “Of course. Happy birthday, my love.”

As you walk back to the car, Charles cradling the puppy like a newborn, you know in your heart that your little family is one step closer to completion.

***

The race weekend after Charles’ birthday feels strange. As you wander through the Ferrari garage during free practice, Fred rushes over looking concerned.

“Here, take a seat,” the team principal says, grabbing a folding chair and positioning it behind you. “You should not be on your feet so much in your condition.”

You frown in confusion. “What condition?”

But the French man has already hurried away. Shaking your head, you continue walking. It’s a few minutes later that you spot Pierre.

“Hey!” He says, jogging up to you. Before you can react, he places both hands on your stomach and smiles brightly. “Wow, it’s hard to believe that little baby Leclerc is in there! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”

Now you’re really bewildered. You take a small step back from Pierre’s wandering hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not pregnant!”

Pierre laughs. “Very funny. You don’t have to hide it from me.” He winks and walks away.

When Charles finds you later, you’re still puzzling over the strange encounter.

“Everyone is acting so weird,” you tell him, explaining what’s been happening all day. "It’s like they all think I’m pregnant or something."

Charles frowns. “That is odd. Where would they get that idea?”

You shake your head. “I have no idea …”

Later, after the last practice session of the day, you wander into Ferrari hospitality for a quick cup of coffee. Carlos quickly spots you and makes a beeline over, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“I just saw the photos of Charles wearing his new jacket.” He says. “A mini Leclerc on the way, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both.”

“What? No, there’s no …” you start to protest, but Carlos is already walking away.

Charles comes up beside you, having overheard. “This is getting out of hand,” he mutters. “We need to clear this up.”

“I know!” You say. “I feel bad, they all seem so excited. They must think we’re hiding a pregnancy from them.”

An idea comes to you then. Turning to Charles, you say loudly, “Honey, why don’t we go introduce the baby to everyone? I know they’re all just dying to meet him!”

Charles catches on immediately, smiling slyly. “Of course! Let’s go get our little one right now.”

You nod, linking your arm through his. As you walk away, you hear gasps and murmurs behind you.

“They already had the baby? When did this happen?”

“I can’t believe they’ve been hiding it all this time!”

You have to stifle a laugh. Charles grins and squeezes your hand.

In his driver’s room, your puppy is napping contentedly on a plush dog bed. Charles scoops him up gently so as not to wake him. Cradling the pup, you both head back out to the hospitality suite.

Everyone turns to look at you eagerly as you enter. Carlos steps forward, craning his neck to see the bundle in Charles’ arms.

“Here he is!” You announce proudly. “Our baby boy!”

Charles turns so they can see the sleeping dachshund nestled against his bomber jacket. A shocked silence falls over the room.

“Wha … that’s not a baby!” Carlos splutters. “That’s a dog!”

You and Charles just shrug with matching sly smiles. “He’s our baby.”

As the puppy yawns and stretches in Charles’ arms, licking his chin affectionately, you know with certainty that your furry new addition will be showered with just as much love and adoration as you both share for one another.

Who could ask for anything more?

2K notes · View notes

satoruhour · 8 months

Note

i need geto to grab my chin, stroke my cheek with his thumb, then spit in my mouth. maintaining eye contact the whole time? ugh. he’d de say “good girl”

ST☆RGIRL

a/n: yuuuum anon u guys r giving me the best ideas. also combining this with the geto in the brother’s bsf universe bc a lot of u have been asking for pt. 2, altho asking for a part two is pretty annoying. but i wanted to do a second one anyway lol. i made our brother gay btw + read the first part here / tagging @omgeto @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @slttygeto @kazushawty @peachsayshi

wc: 3.7k

warnings: secret relationship(?), soft dom!geto, reader is not a virgin but it’s her first time with geto, you almost get caught but it’s mild, dry humping / grinding, nipple play, spitting (in your mouth), praise, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

sneaking around your brother wasn’t exactly easy, given how they were almost always together by the day — if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were dating instead. the only time you had geto to yourself was in the middle of the week when your brother had gone back to pack more things and to visit his boyfriend, a sure time that you’d show up beaming and excited in front of their double dorm room while geto only gives you a lazy smile, tugging you into the room immediately.

sometimes it was the other way when your roommate went home for the weekend, geto knocking on your door in a wife beater and sweats, a small grin and reddened cheeks from running over; the prospect of hanging out with you always gets him speeding over.

his room was for wednesdays, yours for the weekend. a sweet little arrangement for the both of you.

now, geto suguru was the best boyfriend. he made sure you were always okay with his touches, his kisses. he had a silent way of caring, covering the top of your head when you reached down to pick up something under the table, refilling the trusty mug of water you brought around in the small dorm of yours, tidying up your table for the immense studying you’d be doing. it was the little things that you never noticed before you got addicted to him, but now it’s all you can think about when you gush about him to your friends.

and well, maybe, how good he was at teasing you.

no doubt suguru has had experience with other people before from how he always has you wanting more after a simple kiss, lips separating from yours to shoot you a quick smile and a gesture of manoeuvring you onto his lap. his touches are never-ending, rough, large hands spanning the beauty of your body as he names off feature after feature he’s noticed mature since you’ve both grown into adults. he makes the idea of wearing clothes abolutely offensive, grinding up into your centre and watching you fall apart, only to stop when he feels your hands tighten around his shirt.

geto knows you’re not ready, not when you’re doing some pulling away of your own as his hands creep towards your chest, fingers closing around his wrist before he can reach the buttons of your pants. all you can give him is a flustered smile, stuttering out an excuse with frantic hands. he just lets you — swallowing your apologies and tugs you into his embrace and talks about the newest tattoo he got instead — “we can just kiss and grind, baby. you tell me when you want to stop, okay?”

although you never do, makeout sessions always end with your hair in all places, your panties soaked and your lips swollen, not a single line crossed on geto’s side every time. it was an endearing trait of his; he never rushed you, never pressured you into “helping” him out, rather excusing himself to the bathroom quietly.

a smile spreads across your face when your phone lights up, the little profile picture of a sleeping suguru taking centre stage of your phone.

[11:43am, suguru (the bsf and now my BOYF???)]: hey baby, he just left. u wanna come over?

geto doesn’t even need to ask, because you’re already picking up your pre-packed bag and bid goodbye to your roommate who’s deep in her assignment, not noticing you’re gone until she’s shooting you a text after, asking you if you wanted anything for dinner. eating at the boyfriend’s place, no worries! thanks for asking :)

you’ve reached the other block in record time, amongst other many impressive timings, but while you’ve pressed the lift button and trying to catch your breath, the wind is knocked out of you again when the lift doors part and out comes your brother. you’ve never been so quick to come over before, avoiding situations just like this, but your sibling isn’t phased, simply shooting you a greeting.

“hanging with suguru?”

your breath is shaky when you exhale and you hope he doesn’t notice. “yea— yeah!”

his smile is unassuming, a hand outstretched and you barely make his high-five before he bids you goodbye with too loud of a goodbye, keeping up the clueless act until you’re stopping right in front of their door. your boyfriend doesn’t give you time to breathe, either, door swinging open to your dishevelled state and his chuckle would’ve almost buckled your knees if not for the adrenaline running through you.

“i just saw my brother in the elevator — are you insane?”

geto feigns a pout, “not even a kiss for the boyfriend?”

you roll your eyes with a smile and grab the neckline of his t-shirt, but what he says (“well, you’re the one who came running over, sweetheart.”) prompts you to grunt, shoving him away before you collapse face first into the sheets. they smell like you, you notice, but they’re mostly filled with geto’s natural scent, a calming combination of cinnamon and bergamot. there’s goosebumps on the back of your thighs — suguru runs his hand over it and up to your waist, flipping you onto your side and he coos at your annoyed face, settling into the bed with you.

“okay, no more teasing, hm?” he asks softly and you ignore the jump into your heart. you ignore how his tattoo covered arms are so gentle next to you, how his rougher finger tips brush your hair away like bees on a flower; almost ghost-like, so light, so soft, but you can’t. against your will, you huff, taking his hand silently and holding it, a small frown still present on your face and geto feels bad, now. he leans forward, taking your lips gently and you hate the way how pliantly you obey, sighing as you feel geto move against you.

your hand clutches at the pendant geto bought, a habit you’ve developed every time you feel overwhelmed. it was ironic, too, how the many times you’ve thumbed it was because of geto, and not so much of stressful exams or a weird guy at a party, but that thought’s out the window when geto pulls you onto him, moaning into your mouth when your thighs close in around him.

“you’re okay today, princess?” geto asks against your lips, and there’s no doubt lust swirling in the honey eyes of his — they’re the brightest always in the morning.

“i wanna—” you swallow, “try,” you sit up more comfortably, ignoring the tug in your core, “i don’t want to keep you waiting.”

geto’s brows furrow, “what? no— baby, you’re not making me ‘wait’, if anything i should be the one waiting for you.”

your hands are tense on his chest, he notices, bringing one to his lips before he places a kiss on your palm.

“you shouldn’t be compromising on your comfort to please me, my love,” geto mumbles into your hand, starting to kiss each finger individually until you’re closing your hand around his cheek.

“you’re so pretty,” you mutter softly and you’re jumping in celebrating in your heart when you can feel his skin heat up because your words affect him as much as it did you. you’re leaping for joy because how did you land such a caring lover that would put all your needs first? who’d tell you that you come first in everything—

geto suguru makes this so difficult always, but you’re already firm in your resolution, giving him a solid yes before a small smile spreads across his face, making the act of pulling you down by that same hand. you’re inches away, mind spiralling with how many positions he could put you in but—

there’s a jiggle of the knob on the door and you’re suddenly recoiling.

“are you expecting anyone?”

your boyfriend quickly shakes his head, but he brings you off his lap gently, setting you a safe distance from him. he arranges your hair in place and patting down the wrinkles on your shirt as the other person struggles to open the door and as always, he’s worrying about you, first — until that familiar, booming voice of your brother cuts through the tension and your disappointment is unmatched.

“hey guys!”

geto wanted to roll his eyes, as with you, but your oblivious brother doesn’t take much note of why your chests were heaving and your skin is sweaty, rather setting down his bags full of dirty laundry and the cute anniversary present he was ranting to you about — it felt like your work was undone, reversed, and you’re back to feeling intimidated, no doubt the presence of your brother making you feel like you were doing something sinful.

“so! wait, why do you look so—”

“oh, it’s nothin’, she’s just nervous for her upcoming exam,” geto answers almost immediately, removing the attention from you; it wasn’t entirely false, you realise, giving him a secret smile. “you were saying?”

“oh! yes, so, turns out…”

it’s nearing to the fifteen minute mark where your brother still continues to talk, rambling on about how his boyfriend’s moving date had been moved forward insread, so it was halfway throughout his journey that he got a text saying how it might be too chaotic for them to hang out — boxers, movers, the family dog barking at every stranger.

that heart-twisting, anticipating feeling had subsided by then, and while it was never a dull moment with the two of them, you left that dorm room feeling a little dissatisfied.

“i’m sorry, baby,” geto whispers to you later as your brother takes the chance to pee. he’d volunteer to send you back but the both of you didn’t want to risk anything more.

“next week?” geto asks, a hand to your cheek, “but of course, if you don’t feel it next week either that’s f—”

you give him a small grin, fingers covering his own shaking ones in comfort, “next week.” his lips barely leave your forehead in a peck before the toilet flushes and the door opens; geto teases your brother about not washing his hands and the two bicker just like years ago: hands flying everywhere and your giggles cutting through every insult they hurl at each other.

you can hear geto’s chuckle when you show up the next week, looking like you just ran a marathon again. this time you have no trouble avoiding your brother by hiding behind the wall beside the lift, though you hardly have any time for your boyfriend’s teasing laughter.

closing the door with your feet, you’re walking geto back into the room and his eyebrows raise at your determined face.

“are you sure you’re okay—”

without warning you’re clashing your lips into his, hands on his pecs and mewling softly when his arms naturally wrap around your middle.

“more than—” there’s a dramatic sigh when you feel hands caress your back, “okay.”

you’re just too enamoured with geto to carry on with your once self-assured actions, because you’re always like putty whenever you’re in his embrace. it happens without fail every time.

“you make me feel so,” swallowing, your eyes break contact and your head collides with his broad chest, “insane. you drive me crazy.”

you don’t miss how he winces a little, but soon he’s bringing your head off of him, biting his lip at your cute pouting face, possibly not knowing how even more obsessed he was with you.

a simple text from you has got his palms sweaty, and he goes through at least three drafted messages first before sending something, afraid he’d push over your boundaries or do something you won’t like. geto loves your smile, seeing your cheeks reach your eyes until there’s no more from a joke he made because you were talking about the cute little tattoo his little sister made him get. there wasn’t an end to suguru’s love for you; to see you, to feel you be so flustered and sheepish because of him drives him crazy — did you see the effect you had on him?

you simultaneously ruined and changed the definition of love for him; he’d never have anyone else.

you’re taken aback when geto tugs off his shirt and sitting right in the centre of his sternum is a woodcut tattoo of a halved sun, looking entirely contrasting with the traditional dragon that runs over his body and other ink-heavy pieces littered across his body. this was like a collection of ever-flowing lines that seem to bleed despite the bold lines that signify the end of the sun, it was you. your fingers trace over the tattoo under the protective film, your gasp prominent when there’s a small “to my sun” below it, paired with your initials — ambiguous enough if you were to break up, but geto hoped that would never be the case.

“got this for you last week,” suguru takes your wandering hand into his, words and actions gentle while he kisses the back of your hand, he laughs into your skin, “hurt like crap, i’m not gonna lie.”

“sugu—” your eyebrows are downturned just like your smile, “this is so pretty.” you’re in awe that he’d get something permanent for you, no doubt with such a cheesy line under the beautiful drawing.

“you’re so pretty.” geto smiles when you smile with a roll of your eyes, and you let him bring you into another kiss, softer this time as you let him lead, pulling you to his lap easily.

anyone who looked at the two of you could see the instant difference: geto with his inked arms and room oozing with posters and the gruff nature of him, and you with your bashfulness and sweet smiles and while geto is bound to be noticed first, he would rather sit in the shadows as your moon as he lets you charm everyone you come across. you’re just like that.

geto treats your body like glass, removing your top off of you gently as his hands span your torso and he sighs when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. “look at you…” and you’re giggling, drawing a smile from the other. slowly he looks to you for reassurance and you nod, prompting him to wrap a careful mouth around your nipple. your boyfriend moans when he feels you jerk at the contact, tongue swirling around your mound as he plays with the other and that’s all it takes for your fingers to tense around his shoulder.

“f— fuck, sweetheart,” you hear him groan into your chest, moving to other nipple and suckling on it, eyes closed in bliss while your head falls back, “you’re so perfect, my love.”

“am i, now?” you mumble breathlessly, “you should look at who’s talking.”

geto nods, coming off of your tits with a pop! and the grin he gives you is shit-eating, “yeah, so goddamn perfect.”

you’re impatient now, especially when you’re in full perception, body on display just for your lover to see, and your hips move slowly whilst your skin feels like liquid fire.

“need you, suguru,” it’s a soft whine that comes out of you, and geto moans at your neediness and the rock of your pelvis because he can practically feel your cunt clench around nothing and your clit throbbing, and while you’re both no stranger to this, the idea of going further than whatever you’re used to makes geto dizzy.

“yeah— i know, baby,” you’re on your back after, gulping when you’re finally left with nothing on your body, shorts and panties taken off and the glory of your body is like oxygen to him, “i need you too.”

gently, suguru pries your legs apart and he’s hooked on your wetness, the beauty of your labia and hole, leaking so much slick his breath is shaky when he exhales. the first contact with your clit is feather-like, and it’s all he does before he leaps in and eats like a starved man. the sensations are too much that your thighs are pulled taut, feeling the flat of his tongue draw a line up your pussy.

geto slurps at your arousal, putting pressure in his mouth and sucks like his life depended on it and your sounds are music to his ears. he groans when he feels your hands pull at his hair, tugging away or towards your pussy even he didn’t know but he relishes in how he’s able to make you feel like this.

“su— suguru, s-shit! your mouth’s—” you can basically hear the smile in between the messy eating of your boyfriend, emerging from your plush thighs for a moment to show you just how soaked the bottom of his face was.

“it’s what?”

you tsk at his teasing and you shove him back, ignoring the way his chuckles send chills up your body through your core, but geto is merciful, humming and moving his face against your cunt. his tongue is relentless as well, making you so pliant with just one muscle as he flicks it against your puffy clit. it’s when your entrance starts to clench around air is when he thinks you’re going to cum.

and he stops — your whines are so cute to him.

“what’s your deal, suguru?” your frown’s adorable too, but he makes it up to you with a sweet kiss and lets you taste yourself.

“want you to cum around my cock, baby. you can do that, can’t you?”

yes, geto felt like he wanted to combust. yes, geto felt like he needed a thousand and one photos to capture how angelic you looked right, but with how he’s talking right now, you only can look up at him with excitement despite not knowing the torture you were putting him through.

and so when he first nudges his tip past your hole, that facade drops entirely, eyes fluttering close at the tightness of your cunt and the spread of your pussy lips upon his dick. you were by no means a virgin, although you disclosed that it was a shitty first time when you first lost it, but the way you feel around his cock, closing in around him you both have had to take breaths together.

“so tight…” geto’s close to bottoming out, memorising how he made you fall apart so easily: your hands clutching tightly on his wrists, making your tits pop out more, the flutter of your pussy, your cute lil mouth stretching into a delicious ‘o’. “and so pretty, just like that.”

you hum at the praise and once he’s buried, your little pants become more frequent, leaving puffs of air on his cheek.

“move?”

“are you seriously asking me that right n— oh shit…”

geto unsheathes and slams into you, and he can feel the drag of your walls along his length. a small laugh leaves him, “just takin’ care of m’pretty girl.”

he’s only had your dripping pussy once and yet he already can’t get enough of it, starting to move his hips as he impales you on his cock. it’s the only thing your mind can focus on, feeling so full and filled with him that it hazes your brain and hypnotises you almost.

“su— ohmy g-god!”

geto’s hands tighten around your thighs at that and the thrusts get sloppy so fast, rutting into you with no end goal in mind other than to feel your tight hole around his length. your lover’s eyes fall to the way his cock slips into you and you take it so well — there’s no other pussy he’d want to feel around him, truly — you take the ram of his hips so good and the gushing of your cunt is answer enough for him.

your hands grab for him, fingers fumbling with his forearms to bring him to your lips. the kiss is filled with drool, tongues slamming into each other as his hips stutter and jolt at the clamp of your pussy, and when he pulls away there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his.

you’ve talked about it before and it’s like he reads your mind before anything even begins; his hand grabs at your chin, so lovingly and different from how disgustingly rough he was slamming into you. his thumb goes over your supple skin, and he doesn’t need much to pry your mouth open but—

“open.” and your tongue comes out like second nature and you try not to show your excitement when geto gathers saliva, spitting the ball of liquid straight into your mouth. it hits your tongue hot. his honey eyes are darker now as he watches how obediently you swallow — he swears he can see hearts in your eyes.

“good girl.” geto smiles again, propping your legs up against your chest now in a mating press and you whine in surprise. the position gives him access to the deepest parts of you, and one hand sneakily rubs at your clit in time with his faltering thrusts and you’re cumming with a cry of his name.

“suguru— yes, yes! f-fuck— right there, baby,” you’re sobbing, seeing splotches of white in your vision as your high seem to overtake your senses. it hits you in all the right spots, giving geto his little gift of cumming around him and multiplying it tenfold by how your cum seeps into the sheets. it’s so much that all he can hear is the lewd squelch of your cunt and one more moan is enough for geto to groan into your neck.

“going to give you my cum, darling,” your “yes’” resonate in his ear and it spurs him on to finally cum, shooting his load deep into your womb and filling you with so much hotness. it’s too much but you love it and geto hisses at how your juices and his semen seem to seep out, “that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

there’s a sly little grin when he lets down your legs gently and you’ve grasped at your pendant so hard it’s detached, and he quells all your doubts with a single kiss and the sun on his chest.

“i’ll just get you a new one, baby. you deserve that much.”

why did i write sm....

#anon #asks #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk geto #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk thirsts #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto suguru

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eddiernunson · 9 months

Text

Take My Anger | mean!Eddie x Reader | 18+

Summary: Eddie is pissed after a session from Hellfire and you offer for him to take his anger out on you.

Warnings: This is...intense. Mouth fucking, lots degradation, use of stop/go, slight dom!eddie, light after care, reader is in established relationship with Eddie. Also depicts him being a dick about Dustin but never to his face.

Based on a conversation I had with the lovely @oddussy420 thank you for the inspo <3

Words: 2.4k

Disclaimer: I wrote this high as shit. That's all.

Eddie walked out of his Hellfire session as his friends celebrate feeling frustrated. Dustin kept finding out his plots and purposefully picking against him…somehow. As the beginning of the semester aired, Eddie realized quickly he would have to up his game when Dustin picked up on his usual storytelling methods. Either Gareth, Josh, and Peter weren’t that observational or just didn’t care enough to pay attention, but Dustin picked up on his three methods in a mere four weeks.

Eventually Dustin started challenging him by picking against the usual route. It made Eddie need to learn how to think on his feet and dig through his own list of plots he’d came up with mentally. It certainly made Eddie prepared at almost every twist, eventually he met Dustin’s challenges with a half-smirk. Eddie’s rise in confidence had to do with several factors, but for time and storytelling reasons we’ll get into two of them (for now).

One, Eddie had practice with Dustin being a shithead. Loads and loads of it, the point where he had come to welcome Dustin’s alternative routes and sometimes rely on them.

Two, Eddie spent weeks figuring out a quest where Dustin would think he’s leading again but Eddie had everything planned out to work out so that no matter what they’d get to the big twist he had planned. He started to feel confident on his plan at this point.

Eddie spent damn near hours in that library researching and writing in his spiral notebook that was so tattered from the years of ripped out pages. He had given Dustin a ride home one late night after Hellfire, and as Dustin left, he caught a glimpse of the thing that Eddie had, quite frankly, been so obvious he didn’t want Dustin to see. If he hadn’t touched it, Dustin would never have known. Eddie kept trying to not so secretly keep it hidden, which was his dead giveaway.

Somehow, Dustin needed to get to that notebook. There’s only a handful of things that Eddie would be protective as he was. You, his guitar, his van, and his plans for DnD sessions. Luckily Josh, who doesn’t know a thing about Eddie and Dustin’s game of cat and mouse, was the one to provide the combination. During Eddie’s free period where he’s usually found making out with you in the forest or goofing off in the drama room, Dustin went into his locker and picked up the graffitied notebook.

It had every answer, and Dustin had to say he was impressed. He would have to be sneaky to throw him off to a different route this time. In a manner of ten minutes of a quick study Dustin knew the plan, and it happened to be one Eddie was excited and hyping up for the group for that same Friday. Dustin came up with his own counter-move for everything, knowing Eddie would want to lead to the big twist and Dustin would move away.

When the day came, Dustin had managed to throw off the story and quest completely, and Eddie saw red. Of course, he knew Dustin was only playing the cat and mouse game, but it felt like his weeks of work and his excitement was just something to laugh at than indulge in for Dustin. As the game ended, Dustin offered his hand to shake for no hard feelings. You walk into the drama room, bounce down the stairs, your ponytail swinging down each step as you say goodbye to the members already leaving.

Oh, the last reason he became more confident? You finally asked him out and you and him had gotten together.

You watch as Eddie meets the handshake nodding to Dustin to let him know they were okay. However, one look at Eddie told you he was pissed. He has all the tell-tale signs. The locked jaw, hardened eyes, the overly intimidating posture. He smiles as his friends leave but the smile is nowhere near his eyes. You have no idea how they didn’t see his anger.

Maybe Eddie’s just good at knowing what he was angry at.

The last person lets the door slam behind them, and it’s loud in the silence that follows. “Hey, baby.” You greet him, walking up to stand face to face with him.

Eddie gulps, looking down at the table blankly as his arm wraps around your back. “Hey,” he answers, his voice gruff and short.

You hesitate in your question, gently caressing his tense back. “How…how was Hellfire?”

Eddie takes a large inhale in, as if calming himself. “That shithead Henderson…” He does it again, closing his eyes. “That shithead Henderson found my notebook and memorized everything.” He stops talking, finding himself getting a bit worked up. “I spent weeks on that campaign just for him to…” he sighs, leaning onto the table, “just for him to destroy it in an hour.”

“Oh, baby that sucks.” You emphasize with him.

“Yeah, no shit it sucks!” Eddie laughs, walking from you towards the head of the table where his throne sits.

Okay, now he’s being mean with you, too.

He sits down on the throne, his one leg hanging over an arm rest. You checked the time, knowing this session ran late and wanting to catch that movie that he asked you to. If he’s pissed to the point of being just plain mean it would take some time calming to get him down to regular mad.

Fuck. He’s never this way after an orgasm, it would roll right off his shoulder. An idea.

You observe where Eddie is sat in his throne, deciding you could fit in the space between the table and his legs. Eddie doesn’t even notice you crawling under the table on your bare knees until you reach his line of sight on the floor right in front of him.

“Whoa, what’re you doing down there?”

“You couldn’t see me anywhere else.” You shrug. You sit back on your knees, looking up at him with that stare you knew got to him. Wide eyes, big smile. He loves it when you’re eager. “Is there anything I could do to help you feel better?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just pissed.”

“Anything?” You ask crawling up between his legs. “You don’t need help taking your frustrations out…any other way?” Your hands move up and down his legs, watching as he immediately leans back and sighs. His brown eyes remain fixated on yours. Offering a blowjob is one thing, but offering this? Holy fuck, has he won the lottery.

“What’re you offering?” Eddie asks, sounding uninterested.

You don’t buy it for a second. “Use my mouth. Fuck it, then you’ll feel much better when I swallow.”

Eddie’s chest rapidly inflates in response, his eyes welcoming that sprinkle of lust he usually has. “Then do it.” Your hands work fast, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as fast as possible. He chuckles darkly as he legs his pants fall to his knees, watching you eagerly eye his cock. “Get to it.”

You wrap your lips around the head, sucking lightly as a tease. It happens only for a second as a harsh hand lands on your neck and forces you down further on it. Perfect. You bob your head up and down, getting it nice and wet. As you continue, saliva naturally curates and you let it all drool on to him, spit and slobber covering your hand you had supporting you and your mouth. “Oh shit.” Eddie comments, watching you through half-mooned eyes.

Since you suggested him fucking your mouth it was all that was in your brain. You find his hand again, placing it around the base of your ponytail. Eddie immediately takes it into his fist and moves your head so harshly you’re surprised by the initial move. He kept up the movement, eventually muttering to himself. “Oh, take that cock. Oh shit, fucking whore, you take it.”

Just when you adjusted to him suddenly, he pushes himself down your throat, his treasure trail meeting your nose. How did his treasure trail smell so good? You clutch onto his jeans in front of you, tears forming as he stays in the back of his throat and doesn’t move. When it’s been a longer time than usual, Eddie can sense your curiosity. “I wanted to see how long you could take this, a cock at the back of your throat. What a good whore I have…” It was only a minute more when you hit Eddie’s thigh twice, air needed to be brought to you or you would’ve passed out. He places a hand beneath your chin, staring at you in awe as you catch your breath. Your face looked a disaster, your eye makeup a tad runny while your mouth was covered in your own spit. He loved it.

“Bend over.” He commands, and from the authority in his voice you don’t have a damn option. Your underwear is snatched off you, it’s not even down to your knees when Eddie slips into you without pacing himself. He moved right into bucking his hips against yours, the slap of them bouncing harsh enough to bruise. “Baby?” He asks, his voice soft for one moment.

“Go.” You let him know.

“Fucking whore, letting me fuck her just to get some anger out.” His hand goes around your torso, his hands holding you harshly enough to bruise. “Fuck, pussy is so good, though. Look at me.”

You turn your head to face him, and he leans in to kiss you and he does so gently, his tongue sliding against yours with grace. He lets go of you, letting you fall forward on your chest on the table as he continues to buck his hips into you. That was purposeful; you realize. He wanted to embarrass you.

“Let your tits out, slut.” He orders you, his voice showing indifference as the little whines escape your throat. You move your dress down your torso off your shoulders, exposing your nipples to the hard linoleum table. Eddie lifts you up to him, turning you around so one leg was on his shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You whimper as he starts to hit your g-spot at this angle.

Eddie stops his movements real quick “Hey. You’re the fuck toy. Shut up.” His crass choice treating you as such only turns you on more, your hand covering your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your head in arousal. Eddie notices, your pussy becoming wetter in response. “Slut loves when I put her in her place.”

You nod your head, hand still on your mouth as you tried not to make another sound.

“The perfect fuck doll, baby. Take this cock so fucking well, goddamn whore.”

His hand reaches the now loose ponytail and pulls. You smile up at him, the reaction sends more anger through him as he pulls tighter. You manage not to moan in response but the pleasure that it sent through you was indescribable.

“So fucking pissed, spent fucking…weeks…” He mutters, his hips still going at an unprecedented rate against you, his grip he now has on your forearm starting to feel sore. “Fucking steals…fuck you’re such a damn good whore.”

Heat remained explosive from your pussy, and though he’s barely put any attention on your pleasure you were almost there. “I-I’m close.” You mutter, and Eddie lets out a chuckle.

“Of course, you get off to being a fucktoy. It’s all you are.” He pounds into you a handful of times, feeling your heat flutter around him as you got closer. “Fuck, I’m close, too.” He puts the leg on his shoulder down and lies you flat on the table, the impact against your back harsh and cold. He places a hand around your neck, cutting your air off. “You’re not gonna cum until I tell you to. Understand?”

You nod, two hands gripping his strong forearm. He admires how his rings make a nice necklace around your throat.

His other hand meets your clit, starting to rub at it to purposely get you to that high as fast as possible. Eddie knew you so goddamn well he could time your orgasm to take however fast and slow he wanted. “Uh-uh,” Eddie tuts when he sees your entire body tense up in preparation for an orgasm. “Not yet.” He lets go of your folds, letting you feel the loss, then he places his hand there again.

He repeats it, twice. Each time you get more and more desperate to cum, and Eddie can feel your pussy shaking from it.

“AH!” He tuts again, yanking his fingers as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your legs tense right up.

“Please, Eddie. Please.” You beg him, the overstimulation at this point too much. “Lemme cum, I need it so bad. Please.”

“Oh thank you for using your manners, whore.” Eddie uses his hand one more time on you, strategically getting you off at a calmer rate and loving how your face looks as you finally cum around him.

Heat invaded you as you finally cum, your body going limp as Eddie continues to fuck you. He’s gone in seconds, the entire time he was torturing himself, as well. The afterglow kicks in, and Eddie slips himself out of you as his hand swipes your face lovingly. “Oh, baby. My sweet girl.” He stays laying down with you until he sees you come back down to earth, and you inhale and exhale deeply, attempting to catch your breath. “There she is. You did so fucking good, baby.”

You smile up at him, your heart expanding. “Yeah?”

“Fuck.” Eddie swears, a laugh escaping him. “We definitely missed the movie, but we can go look at the stars, again, if you want.”

“Out in the field by your place?” You ask hopefully, remembering one of your first dates where he spent most of the night eating you out.

He places his hands delicately on your cheek, kissing you with all the love in the world. “Of course, sweetheart.”

You sigh, your heart still racing.

He can feel your heart still pounding against his chest. “You okay to walk?”

“I’ll need a few more minutes, stay with me.”

He let you crawl into his arms until you recovered, making himself pissed for not having a source of water on hand. “Grab some food later?”

You nod in his chest, taking in the scent of the cologne on the shirt he didn’t take off. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Miles, thank you so much for that, sweetheart.”

You smile into his chest, proud of getting him to handle his anger in a way you’ve talked about. “Of course, baby.”

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

#mean!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #mean!eddie munson x you #dom!eddie munson

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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months

Text

Respawn and Relive

@thenightwolf51 who tagged me in this months ago, but I didn't know enough about Respawn to write something. I didn't forget! I just still haven't found much on him, so sorry if I get his character wrong.

They don't give him a name.

It's one of the first things he notices they do to dehumanize him. It's not like they see clones as humans- he's just a science experiment meant to keep the legacy of the League of Assassins alive, even at the cost of his life.

He is just there to be trained to follow commands, and if needed, he is spare parts for the Real Son. He is made from part of the same DNA as the Real Son, but that hardly matters to what should be his mother, as she does not feel anything for his biological father and thus feels nothing for the being created from the two DNAs.

He is the clone created by Slade Wilson- alias Deathstroke- and Talia al Ghul. She may not had a hand in his creation, as that was done by her father, but she had no issues using him.

Torment him. Rip him apart and put it back together just to see what happens.

She looks at him with the same gaze she would a sword. Valuating his worth by how well he can do in training, how healthy his organs are, and how he should be nothing but a loyal dog.

But he isn't. Not really.

If this was all he knew, maybe he would be the weapon they wanted, but he knows more. Remembers more. Yes, he doesn't have all his memories, but he has flashes- glimpses- of the life he had before the Leauge.

They would disapprove of the memories, which makes them all the more precious.

He can still clearly remember his mother- his real mother- a brilliant mind, his father's warm, solid hugs, and his sister's gentle eyes. He can recall his home's layout even if he can not remember the street or how far it was from his school. He can identify his two best friends' faces even if their names slip through his fingers like falling sand.

He also remembers his first name and the initials of his last.

Danny F.

He thinks he died before, waking up as the clone. He remembers standing inside a metallic cave- or a large hole in a machine?- and being electrocuted. He remembers the screams, the flashes of light, the pain, and even a glimpse of his best friends' horrified faces but not much else.

The next clear memory is looking in a mirror to see white hair and green eyes. The same combination he now sports as the Leguage's weapon and spare organ farm.

The memories after that are filled with harsh training, even more, brutal torture, and the reintegration that should his half-brother ever need them, he would give up his organs for the Real Son.

He is, after all, Damian Wayne's gift. He was created to harvest his super healing for the boy's body parts. Danny thinks he hates him, but he's not sure he can remember what hate is supposed to feel like.

He does remember what love is supposed to feel like.

Sometimes, when all he can do is lay in his cell, body aching as they test his healing factor beyond its limits- they cut off his left arm once, just to watch the tissue slowly regrow- he lets himself drown in his old memories, in the few dream-like sequences.

Some make sense, others don't. For some, he's a black-haired blue-eyed boy, and for others, he has white hair and green eyes.

Danny is sitting in class, eagerly taking notes on a topic he has been having trouble with-

-He's playing fetch with a small green dog, throwing snowballs into the air, flying after the excited creature-

-Danny is playing video games with a goth girl and a nerdy boy, laughing so hard he can't see the buttons on the control correctly-

-He's flaying alongside his sister, aiming his outstretched arm at a figure in the sky, shooting a green ray at the same time she does down below in her mechanical armor-

-Danny is helping his mother mix the dough for the cookies. He is swaying his hips to the song she has on the speaker. She's in her teal jumpsuit, having come up from the lab to do mother/son cookies as they do every Thanksgiving-

-He's testing the latest blaster with his father. They wanted to see if the auto-aiming feature was interfering with his flying. He flickers the white bangs out of his eyes as his father cheers from the roof while he takes aim-

Yes, Danny knows what love is supposed to feel like, even if he can't remember all the details, even if his full name evades him. He will escape the Leauage of Assiagins and find that feeling again.

Maybe he'll track down his biological father. Deathstroke does not know a clone was created by him, so maybe he will be willing to take him in.

It takes months, but eventually, they tell him Damian Wayne needs a kidney. Why? They don't say, but Talia knows her Beloved will donate his own, and she won't stand for it. She orders him to fulfill his duty as guards drag him to the operation table.

He grits his teeth as they strap him down and prep for surgery. Thankfully, they don't apply any anesthetics- they don't deem him worthy of a painless operation- so he has a clear head for escape.

The surgery has a thirty-window opening with no guards around. He waits until they are about to begin when he taps into the powers his memories tell him. He makes his limbs intangible, slipping through the restraints with great effort.

The medics only have a few seconds to be shocked before he is upon them. They lay in a pool of blood- not dead. His chest flares up in pain if he kills, so he tries to avoid it as much as his environment allows- as he flies through the walls. He has been planning here, so he knows what to do. Turning invisible, he passes under a helicopter scheduled for a month supply run.

By doing so, he does not appear on any radars using the large cargo as camouflage. Danny drops into the ocean as the alarms go off on that wrenched island, allowing his whole body to turn tangible. This way, the water does not slow him down as he flies deeper and deeper down, praying that they won't be able to track him the further he goes. When he gets to the part where everything is too dark to see- he picks a direction from where he came and hits top speed.

Traveling three hundred miles an hour, Danny escapes the League of Assians with all his organs intact, so take that Damian Wayne.

He has no real destination in mind but maybe, he can find the little town of his memories or maybe he'll find Deathstroke.

Maybe he will discover what the F. in his name stands for.

For now, he'll work under the name Respawn because that's a name he picked out for himself, and he'll do what he wants. He's no one's tool any longer.

(Miles away Tim Drake squints at the small dot darting from Nanda Parbat on his spying map. He's not sure what kind of misle Ra's just shot, but it's traveling fast, and he feels like he needs to phone this in.

"Hey B, we may have an issue." )

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Respawn and Relive #Danny wakes as Respawn #He's out in the world #Sort of resents Damian but it's not like his half brother knows about him #Yes he escape earlier because of his somewhat memories #Partial amnesia #TW: Mentions of torture

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thecuriousquest · 5 months

Text

Everything has a Price

Bisexual & Poly Yan!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom

Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, implied kidnapping, isolation punishment, neglect, starvation, conditioning, bisexual & polyamorous TodoBakuDeku, dominant behavior, aggressive behavior, I don’t know how frostbite works

Master List

Request Rules

—————————————————————————

You realized fairly early on how to piss off your captor’s individually and combined.

If you want to upset Izuku, all you have to do is throw a tantrum. Cry, scream, kick, throw things. But you can’t stop even when he’s trying to calm you down. You have to bite the bullet, fight your declining energy because if you give in then it won’t work. You have to wail and flinch every time he tries to touch you, console you. If you do this long enough, he’ll end up in tears of frustration and sadness because you’re sad and he doesn’t know how to make you feel better.

If you want to piss off Bakugou, all you have to do is seem disinterested in anything he has to say. Every time he kisses you, you have to kiss him back and then look him dead in the eyes and say, “I’ve had better.” If he hugs you with a little squeeze, ask him, “Are you not going to the gym as much anymore? You feel a little weaker now.” Always talk to him with a lack of excitement. It will infuriate him.

Todoroki is a different story. He’s very unique compared to your two very sensitive captors. Not a lot of things piss him off. Throwing tantrums doesn’t work, and acting disinterested in anything he has to say or show you doesn’t help because he will just shrug it off and read a book or something. No, you have to hit him where it hurts the most. You have to do this one out of the blue. You can’t be arguing with him, you can’t be having a conversation with him before you say this. While he’s watching tv, tell him, “You remind me of your father,” and then don’t follow up with an explanation.

It will eat at him. He’ll sit there, wondering what you meant. He’ll try to ask you about it, but you just shrug and go back to whatever it is you were doing. He doesn’t get any sleep that night or for the remaining nights that week. It doesn’t work if you do it too often so space it out.

This is how you individually piss them off, though. Collectively, you have to target one of them when they’re all together. Don’t show favoritism. You have to verbally berate one of them in front of all of them, and it works even better if you attack Bakugou.

Deku loves his Kachan, and Shoto is pretty defensive of his boyfriend. Now all of them are mad, and you’re feeling very smug at having riled them up.

———

However, you never expected things to turn out the way they do when you suddenly find yourself thrown into an empty shed in the dead middle of winter. Bakugou pushes you in with a nasty snarl grazing his lips. He points a stern finger at you as you cower in the corner.

“Alright, bitch, we’ve all had enough of your fucking shitty behavior! You want out? You’re gonna learn to appreciate what we give you in that house, and you won’t step foot inside until you do.”

The ash blonde slams the door shut behind him as he walks out. You hear a bunch of locks click from the outside.

So, here you are in a sweater and jeans, curled up in a corner, trying to fight off the winter air nipping at your goosebump covered flesh. You’re very grateful for your fuzzy socks. You curl your toes, hoping to gather some warmth.

You can see your own breath in the dim lighting of the shed.

The sun slips in and out of the sky over the course of two days. You’re only allowed this view because of a very small window, not one you can crawl through. You could probably only stick your hand outside if you broke it. However, you don’t need anymore problems.

Stomach growling, shivering with the frost bitten air, you bring your knees up to your chest and hide your face in the warmth of your elbow. If you hadn’t made them so angry so often, they wouldn’t have stuffed you in here. Rebuking yourself for your situation is all you can do, and it reduces you to whimpers and sniffles.

The door opens, and you see Katsuki’s boots stomp inside. He throws a bowl of rice at you. Cocking his elbow back, sending it towards your feet, and letting the plastic bowl crash. The grains spill everywhere by your sock-covered toes, but it’s the only warmth you’ve gotten over the last few days.

Before you can even say anything, the door is closing, and you can hear him stomp through the snow on the way back to the house.

Gathering up as much rice as you can, you hold it in your numb fingers, letting the steam soak into the pads of your digits. You only eat it once the food turns cold.

Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya keep you like this for what you feel like is two weeks. You’ve only been able to stave off frostbite due to the warm meal you get once every two days along with the hot bottle of water thrown at you every morning. Bakugou is always the one delivering these things to you because you know if you started crying to the others, they would just bring you back inside. He never says anything to you, tuning out your pleas for mercy.

He walks inside the shed with no water or rice to give you, and you clutch your angry stomach. Katsuki tilts his head at you, analyzing you, trying to determine what’s going through your head.

“There’s a nice breakfast inside waiting for you. All warm and fresh. You want it?”

You nod, keeping your nose hidden in the crook of your elbow.

“Alright then. Beg.”

Sitting on your knees, you beg just like the explosion hero taught you.

“I’m so sorry I was bad, Master. I won’t do it ever again. I’ll be good now. I swear, I’ll be good. Please, can I go inside and eat? Please, please, Master?”

He runs his fingers through your hair, ruffling your scalp slightly. “That’s a good girl. You gonna stop pissing us off?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Come on then.” He picks you up, one arm under your back and the other under your knees. He takes you inside the house, and you feel the dramatic change in temperature instantly.

Shoto walks up to you, moving a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Breakfast is on the table, Snowflake.”

“What do you have to say to IcyHot and the nerd?”

You look down at your hands. “I’m sorry I was so bad. Thank you for letting me come back inside.”

“It’s alright, Bunny! I’m just glad you’re going to be a good girl now.” Izuku kisses you on the head, and you don’t move away from him this time.

Leaning your head on Bakugou’s chest, he takes you into the kitchen before setting you on a chair.

You begin eating, thinking about how everything has a price. Apparently, pissing them off has one as well.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere todobakudeku #poly todobakudeku #todobakudeku

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softevnstan · 1 year

Note

(nsfw) random prompt event generator for bucky!!

Bucky and Y/N going back to one or the other's house after a date, where they eventually end up dry-humping on the couch. Y/N only intends this as foreplay, but Bucky is already getting overwhelmed. Y/N finds this amusing and endearing, leaning close to whisper something teasingly into Bucky's ear. It turns out that Bucky is more excited than Y/N thought, and hits orgasm without any further stimulation, to the surprise of Y/N and the embarrassment of Bucky. What happens next?

pairing. bucky barnes x gender neutral! reader

summary. After a date night out with Bucky as you explore your new relationship, you unintentionally wind up taking your makeout session a little too far. Quickly you learn it's been far too long since Bucky has had a partner.

warnings. SMUT - minors DNI. kissing, praise kink, dirty talk, size difference, beefy bucky, dry humping, masturbation (bucky and you), implied/referenced trauma, reader has v but still gender neutral. p with plot, recovering!bucky barnes (half-way).

a.n. ok, i have other things to write and originally i was gonna let this wait... until i read the prompt again and saw this as an opportunity for some mild bottom/fluffy bucky. (bucky is a bottom you can't change my mind, but i'll write top for you all i promise) starts a little fluffy at first because idk how to not write some sort of context to situations, and bucky is still in recovery reasonably so

w.c. 7.6k howdidthishappen

Your date with Bucky exceeded your expectations. Wary that things would potentially be a little rough around the edges while the soldier was still trying to put himself back together, you were pleasantly surprised when he picked you up at your apartment with a bouquet of flowers - specifically an interesting combination of sunflowers and roses. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had bought you flowers, and after running them inside so as to not ruin them by taking them on the trip, Bucky held your hand all the way to his motorcycle and helped you settle comfortably before embarking on the evening together. No awkward pauses or tense, heavy moments with Bucky; It was sweet and a dream come true that you didn’t even know you’d had.

He’d surprised you on where you both were going initially. Blindly trusting Bucky with wherever he chose your date location, he decided that the Art Museum was the safest choice. Dinners could be awkward - what if you don’t like the way someone chews their food? Movies hardly left time to actually get to know one another, instead just sitting in the dark with occasional spared glances. Anything too physical could be exerting and hinder you from another date with Bucky. So after indecisively pondering, Bucky had chosen that an art exhibit was the best way to go.

You loved it.

So many classic paintings and countless mediums of art filled the halls as you two strode hand in hand. Bucky was on the quieter side, but not enough to deter you. He’d smile and watch the twinkle in your eyes when you both came across a particularly marvelous work of art that you loved. Bucky had listened smittenly as you gushed about the way some pieces of art made you feel or the message you interpreted behind it all. Eventually, Bucky had begun to open up throughout the night to do the same. What felt like hours of enriched conversation and two people simply being in the moment.

Sometimes people don’t need candles and rose petals, sometimes people just need someone to talk to and feel just as down to earth with.

Unfortunately, neither of you had finished going through the whole museum together in one sitting.

Bucky had used that as the opportunity to salvage the situation; “I guess that means we’ll just have to come back together.” He’d said fondly when you both stopped at the mini-cafe built in the museum before you both left.

Instead of letting the date die down when the museum began closing for the night, you offered to bring the party back to your apartment instead. Tempting Bucky with a bottle of wine sitting in your kitchen so you two could just spend some more time together, he didn’t need too much convincing. Any excuse to stay close to you, to steal some of your time just a little longer before returning to his dull apartment.

‘How could I say no to you, doll?’ He had said, and you’d beamed at the small victory.

Truly, you hadn’t meant for it to end up where it was (not that you were complaining). When you asked Bucky to come into your apartment building, when you’d walked together hand in hand, you didn’t think you’d wind up like this. But somewhere between being plastered against Bucky’s backside and having the privilege to let your hands wander and explore tight leather hiding thick arms or the adrenaline of feeling the wind whipping in your hair, you’d started to become insatiable on the trip back.

Bucky had this way with you that made you feel like a teenager in love all over again.

Sure, he was quiet, but he was misunderstood. Soft and sweet, he had a compassionate heart and an intelligent mind, the gentle giant.

It’d taken some time to help Bucky bring down those walls initially - countless weeks you’d spent just trying to be his friend before he finally caved and agreed. He was a private person, you learned, but once peeling back all the layers, Bucky was amazing and worth all the work that went into opening him up. Creative and smart, a book-lover and funny, he was gentle and tender and emotional in every way that a man could be if they let themselves. He wasn’t afraid to be honest, but was instead afraid to voice that too loud. He wasn’t afraid to be emotional or vulnerable with those he trusted - not the unfeeling machine that so many had made him out to be. Bucky had simply needed someone who understood him - or was willing to if nothing else.

Once you’d gotten past all of it, all of the rough nights and moody days, it was worth it. You’d watched Bucky become something he never was before…

He was the one who had taken your relationship a step further.

Tentatively and timidly, might you add. Always endearing. He’d been anxious asking you to come out with him - as though he’d been fighting with himself for a long while on whether or not he should even ask. When he finally called you and asked if you’d like to go out on a date with him tonight - yes, he’d used date - you’d been elated.

And sure, you were moving a little too fast at that moment, but life is short and he’s already on seventy years of borrowed time. Bucky deserves to be loved.

Warm hand had rubbed up the length of Bucky’s bicep, and you gave his shoulder a squeeze when getting off of his motorcycle with a teasing glint in your eyes.

When he walked with you into the building, you hugged his left arm to your side - refusing for any additional space to come between the both of you as you prattled on about 'Birthday', by Dorothea Tanning and how you interpreted it as the door into the imagination, and Bucky was busy trying to remember which painting it was you were talking about - it was 'the winged scared cat-creature on the floor' that rejogged his memory.

Bucky was just happy you clung so easily to the cold and hard metal of his vibranium arm as if it were his own.

Turning into your hall, you’d begun to pull Bucky by the arm. Turning on your heel and offering him a smitten smile when you tugged him closer to your body in a backward walk. His eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile, his smile wide and showing off pretty white teeth. Even the sheepish duck of his head was precious when you led him into your apartment, finally excited to have time where it could be just you and Bucky without prying eyes.

"If you were eager to get home, you could've just said so," Bucky teased you, and you gave a playful smirk in response.

"M'not, I'm just excited to finally be alone with you." you'd cooed, attempting to make the words seductive but honestly they came more sentimental than anything.

The door gave way behind you when you twisted the knob with your one hand, the other still clutching to Bucky's sleeve. It didn't give Bucky a chance to respond to your retort when you tugged him right on into your apartment. Instead, it earned a chuckle that snapped into a gasp with your pull.

It was when that door shut that something came over you. Tucked into your own little corner of the world, you didn’t fear overwhelming Bucky with affection that made him uncomfortable. No worries about people gawking and making him feel out of place (or him being afraid of gawking, really).

When you both were just past the threshold of your apartment, you turned and used your foot to push the door shut. Fingers sliding up Bucky's arm, you used the moment to grab the lapels of his leather coat and step back - coming flush with the door and dragging Bucky right on into your tight space.

Hardly giving him a chance to protest. Wide cobalt eyes study you when you both are finally still, Bucky's hands hovering a little uselessly briefly and while shocked, still pleasantly surprised by your bravery.

"Someone is a little impatient," Bucky comments, expression softening. "Not impatient, just excited." You defend with a loving smile. "I could've sworn there was a bottle of wine mentioned..." Bucky trails. "Can you even get intoxicated?" You rhetorically question with a curious tilt of your head and a knowing grin. "Can't I drink for the taste like most people do?" Bucky retorts. "Touché."

You both fall into a small fit of giggles and soft laughs, the small talk helping to alleviate some of Bucky's nerves. His hands slowly come to settle on your sides since you're not budging from where you'd pressed flat against the door. Enjoying being wedged between a door and Bucky - you'd be crazy not to.

Despite the way, your mind is running a million miles a minute and your gaze can't seem to draw away from Bucky's pouty lips, Bucky doesn't seem to be picking up as easily on your advances. That's okay. He's always been worth the wait.

“...Did you have a good evenin’, doll?” he asks, flesh hand smoothing down to delicately rest on your hip.

“I was with you, wasn’t I?" Bucky looks at you for a beat as if slightly unconvinced... "Yes, Bucky. One of the best dates I've ever been on... ‘S a shame, I don’t want it to end.” You coo, drawing Bucky in closer until you’re both flush against each other. His left-gloved hand lifted to push your hair from your face tenderly.

“Who says it has to end right here?” Bucky hums with his signature playboy grin - no wonder why he had every girl in Brooklyn creaming their panties.

The low husk of his voice strikes you to your very core, allowing your imagination to run wild with the countless thoughts of what the man before you could really do if he tried. Really, it wouldn’t take much; Bucky already had you curled around his finger, whether he knew it or not was another question.

“I thought you’d never ask,” pleased, you lay your hands flat on Bucky’s chest. Feeling under his open coat and hands finding the expanse of muscle. You tilt your head back, biting your bottom lip seductively with a cheeky grin.

You aren’t ready to find Bucky’s eyes watching you so intently. The way he wets his bottom lip before worrying it between his teeth and releasing that pouty lip of his. Eyes boring right into you and keeping you pinned between him and the door. Ever so carefully, Bucky cups your cheek in his large gloved palm. There’s hardly a missed beat when you turn your head and nose affectionately into his palm, able to hear the soft whirring of the machinery before pressing a chaste kiss to leave behind.

“I had fun tonight,” You reiterate to him softly - the drag of your lips accentuated with every word against his palm.

“M’glad. You look good when you’re happy.” Bucky murmurs, but he seems distracted. Cobalt eyes follow every drag of your lips, Bucky exhales a shallow breath.

“I bet I could think of a few ways you could make me even happier, Bucky,” you singsong, hand sliding up over Bucky’s that hold your cheek to press affectionately into his touch. Always grateful for anything, nuzzling into him like a needy kitten.

Part of you is waiting for the next step. For him to make the next move - that’s the dance between you two. You step, and Bucky steps one more further. Playing off of each other. It doesn’t come.

“M’sure you could, sugar,” Bucky starts, and you’re waiting for the ‘But’... “But,” There it is. “Maybe we should slow down just a little. It’s been such a good night…”

“We could make it better,” you offer, and Bucky flushes slightly at the implication.

“...I don’t want to move too fast,” Bucky says after a pause in a hushed whisper - as though scared if he speaks any louder, the universe may come in and rip this good thing away from him as it has a history of doing.

“Listen, I care about you. And I had a really, really good time with you - I’m still so happy you agreed to come out with me. But you’re not- Not some dame. I’m not just trying to get into your pants, Y/N…” Bucky elaborates tentatively, and you watch him with understanding in your gaze.

“I know,” You softly lament. “You’re not that kind of fella, Bucky…” “I want you to feel comfortable with me - happy,” Bucky emphasizes, and for half a moment your heart hurts for the man in front of you. So convinced he’s still capable of doing harm, even after all of this time. “I can’t think of a time I’ve been uncomfortable around you at all, actually,” Softly you contest, and Bucky offers you a briefly amused smile.

“We can take our time,” Bucky presses; You can tell it’s more for him than it is for you. “Anything you need.” No questions about it. Nuzzling into Bucky’s palm, your lips form a chaste smile. “You’re too good to me, sugar…” “Funny, I’ve found myself thinking that all night.” Bucky finds humor in the words; expression softening and some of the tension that had begun to rebuild in him falling away. Bucky laughs. Soft, but rich. He leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your temple; Protective and loving. “Earlier, you said you had fun… So did I. This was one of the best nights in a while for me,” The admission comes with the feel of Bucky’s lips ghosting your skin. It’s distracting.

“I’m glad; You deserve good things, too, Bucky.” Something you tend to try to remind Bucky of often; You’ll slam that fact into his head until he one day decides to believe it for himself and see what everyone else sees. “You are my good thing,” he whispers even quieter; Unintentionally dropping the tone of his voice and sending shivers down your spine.

No words are exchanged when your hands lift and find Bucky’s defined jaw; cradling him gently and drawing him in for a deep but loving kiss. The first of many tonight.

Both you and Bucky had soon migrated from the door in the foyer to your cozy living room. You both struggled to keep space between one another; Lips meeting together over and over again. The only sound was your own heart pounding in your ears and the soft breaths between you and Bucky.

You were planted in his lap. Sat on strong, thick thighs - your arms draped around Bucky’s broad shoulders. His hands sat comfortably on your sides; gloves abandoned on the coffee table when he’d wanted to feel you. Not leather obstructing him from feeling the proper warmth of your flushed skin. His head tipped back to accommodate the way you had gained a few inches on him upon being seated in his lap.

Despite the way you two were entangled, it was nothing more than kisses. His hands hadn’t dared to venture below your belt, and while the kisses were definitely full of passion, it wasn’t the flame you were yearning and burning for. To respect Bucky’s request though, you didn’t proceed any further. Content with the taste of Bucky on your tongue, the warmth of his breath, and the barely there noises you were able to draw out of him that rumbled in his chest. His lips were soft and moved naturally against one another - It was a moment of euphoria.

Just the way your mouths slotted together alone was enough to rile you up; It’d been so long, and no one was as tender a lover as Bucky was with you. Each time he touched you, it was with consideration and care for what you wanted, what would feel good. Never in the means of his own self-gain. It made you that much more desiring of him; the connection that you both maintained had been there for months, it was simply that you both had finally begun to act on it.

You’d told yourself you’d be slow. Take this at your own pace. No one wants to rush into a relationship that has the potential to end messy. But there you were; Necking in your living room with Brooklyn’s finest bachelor since 1936. Truly, you were only human, and it hadn’t escalated further than that. Breathing each other in, heated and heavy. You hadn’t even done it intentionally.

One could only fault you so much when your hips rolled into Bucky’s. Formerly nestled still in his lap, you found yourself moving without thought. Grinding down into the soldier’s lap, it elicited a deep groan from his throat, and tilted his head down to pull your lips apart. His hands instinctively moved to your hips; Clutching moderately tight to still your ministrations. You relished in the subtle pressure that came with Bucky’s hands securely enough to hold you still for hardly a moment. It was enough time for you to have realized the mistake you’d made.

“Shit, I’m sorry–” you stammered between the both of you, and Bucky instead took a shallow inhale. “No, no– It… It was good. It felt good, it’s-... It’s just… been a while.” Bucky timidly expressed, cheeks flushed and breathless. You noticed how he struggled briefly to maintain a heated gaze with you, eyes averting before pinching shut altogether.

“Do we need to stop? It’s okay if we do, Bucky…” Let him know that he had that out if he needed it; You wouldn’t be upset.

That option left Bucky shaking his head profusely. “No,” he rasps out, and you can feel his breath fanning your face. Can still taste him on your lips. You’re both still so close… You can feel the faint flex of his fingers holding you. “I want to keep going… Just… Give me a moment, alright?” He requests, and you give him a comforting smile and an understanding nod.

Your fingers card up into Bucky’s disheveled locks and brush thick hair back from falling in his face. Some of the tension leaves his body when you press a chaste kiss to his temple.

“Whatever you need,” you softly let him know. You’re both still for a minute or two. Simply letting Bucky hold your hips while you kept some of the pressure on your knees - dug into the cushions on either side of his thick thighs. Soothingly rubbing your fingers through Bucky’s hair and giving him a tender hug he relishes in.

Then, slowly, he pulls you back down. Guiding your ass back into his lap and bodies coming flush together. The moment is experimental and you allow Bucky to take all the time he needs even if there is a burning in your thighs from the awkward position. Basking in the relief with a soft sigh and nosing into Bucky’s hair. His hands experimentally dare to explore a little further down. Rubbing from your waist down over your hips to the tops of your thighs. His hands feel like that of a bear's paws in comparison to your physique.

“How are we feeling…?” You ask, checking in on him. “A little better… I’ve been using that 4-7-8 breathing method my therapist recommended, actually,” Bucky says, and you can tell for a moment he just needs to play it by ear. Even if you both don’t do anything tonight, he’s worth the wait.

“Really? That’s good,” Indulging in the moment of chit-chat as his hands still continue the back-and-forth motion. Hypnotizing and leaving your thighs tingling.

Bucky’s reply comes in a soft hum, tilting his head down to nudge his nose at your neck. You tilt your head enough for him to burrow in the hollow of your throat and nose affectionately there. His warm breath makes your skin break out in goosebumps. You let out a shaky exhale before a sappy grin spreads across your face.

He begins to slowly mouth at the sensitive skin of your throat. Gentle kisses and the faint scratch of his stubble that initially tickles enough to make you wiggle in his lap.

“Bucky!” You squeak and you feel the grin against your skin.

“Easy, easy…” Bucky lowly tells you and it burns into your core. It’s easy to go lax when he’s the voice coaxing you back. “Good doll,” Bucky says with a chuckle - clearly teasing but it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“M’ticklish,” You defend as your arms squeeze around his shoulders. “I can tell. Might come in handy one day…” His lips still ghost over your skin; ever so distracting.

“You wouldn't.” “I might,” Bucky says, his voice smooth but thick like honey.

A playful pinch to Bucky’s shoulder makes him surrender with a laugh before tipping his head up to press your foreheads together again. This time you’re surprised to find his eyes meeting yours head-on.

“Thank you for being understanding,” Bucky addresses the elephant in the room, traces of anxiety in those gray eyes. “I’m still trying to learn how to let myself be with someone else…”

The words feels so raw; A hushed confession and a moment Bucky is being fully honest with you. Not hiding from it or skirting around it - communicating his boundaries and being able to give himself the time he needs. Your chest swells with pride for the man before you in his growth; You’re so inlove.

“It’s okay, really. I’m not here just to get into your pants, Bucky. I care about you, and we can go as fast or as slow as you need.” You affirm, always wanting Bucky to know that. That he’s safe with you the way you are with him.

“I know,” he whispers, tipping his head up a little further to let your lips brush. “It’s why I like you so much…”

You smile, unable to help but feel a fluttering in your chest. Bucky draws you the rest of the way to press your lips together again. Starting from scratch so that Bucky is able to be more expecting and prepared this time. The build-up doesn’t bother you in the slightest, and it doesn’t take the both of you long to build up where you once were. Bucky’s comfortable kissing you. It’s everything else that daunts him.

Bucky is the one who holds your hips tight against his lap as he gives an experimental roll of his hips up into your ass; feeling the semi-bulge through his jeans. You gasp against his lips, and he seizes the moment to lick hot into your mouth. He doesn’t do it again; Teasing you and inviting you to take the next step. Experimentally, you return the gesture when you grind against Bucky’s lap. It draws a noise from both of you at that time.

“Yeah..,” Bucky huskily groans. “That’s good, fuck…” Bucky’s praise eggs you on to keep pressing down into Bucky. Rotating your hips to allow both of you to grind through your clothes; Traces of Bucky’s arousal evident in his jeans.

He steals your breath with a claiming kiss. Strong hands trailing up your thighs to test the waters. Feeling over the swell of your ass and encouraging you to keep pressing down into him. Rutting against his constricted and half-swelled cock. You’re unsure what to do with your hands other than planting them firmly on Bucky’s chest as you grind your sexes together. Fingers curling into bunch fabric of his shirt as Bucky’s head tilts to deepen your kiss further.

With each second that passes, you feel dizzier. High on the endorphins and lack of oxygen - your chest felt warm and fuzzy. Kissed senseless as Bucky’s firm hands squeeze the globes of your ass and rips a needy keen from your throat, drawing your grinds to a controlled halt. Right when you fear as though you might be too light-headed from the lack of air, Bucky shows some mercy. Freeing your lips and leaving you to gasp; Bucky licking his lips with a satisfied grin.

“I think I taste mint, did you pop a tic-tac earlier when I wasn’t looking…?” Bucky breathlessly teases, both of you so close that you can feel his smile. In that moment, you’re simply trying to return to Earth for a moment between soft, airy breaths.

When you will yourself to finally look at Bucky again, his eyes are blown. His black pupils swallowing the blue of his eyes; leaving behind a thin ring. Something inside of him looks livelier than you’ve ever seen, Bucky’s cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

“Jesus, Bucky,” is all you manage, earning a cheeky grin from Bucky - proud. “Speechless? I’m relieved to know after nearly a century I haven’t gotten rusty… It’d be embarrassing if I was 107 and didn’t know how to kiss,” Bucky jokes, and something inside of you feels so warm and fuzzy.

That you both can joke while still being in the moment and grinding into each other moments prior.

“Cocky, are we soldier?” You hum after regaining some of your composure, hands lifting to hold his face. Before Bucky has a chance to speak, the wiggle of your hips draws a reminder of the length in his jeans. Bucky chokes on a stifled groan low in his throat at the way you frott into him.

“Very funny,” he asks, still slightly out of breath.

“You took me by surprise,” you admit softly, “You never seem so brave…” “Frankly, sugar, it’s… Been a really long time. I’ve spent a too long runnin’ and not getting to actually feel alive - I’m not just surviving anymore. It’s taken time and it’ll still take more, but you make me feel better.” Bucky confesses fondly, and you snort with amusement. Pressing a loving kiss to his lips.

“Sap.” You murmur between soft pecks. “Only you could turn something hot into something sweet.” “Can’t we have both?” Bucky cooes. “Absolutely.”

This time, you take lead. Pecking kisses down from Bucky’s lips, over his stubbled cheek and defined jaw. His head tilts back to accommodate the way you nudge, leaving open-mouth kisses in your wake. Sucking the salty skin to leave behind loving bruises that will only last so long with Bucky’s healing factor. He groans; Adam’s apple bobbing when you stamp kisses back up his neck to the juncture of his ear and jaw. A soft kiss before you take a playful nip at his earlobe and send shivers racking through the man under you. “Oh, babydoll,” Bucky sighs airly, taking it upon himself to guide your hips. You move on your own accord as Bucky grinds you into his lap; Moving you back and forth to rut together through your clothes. You don’t have to do any of the work, instead just taking some time to give Bucky the loving he deserves.

When you peer at his face, his eyes are closed. Lashes kissing the tops of his cheeks and lips parted with soft breaths; the occasional clench of teeth pulls out a gravelly rumble from his chest. All of it has you so hot, so riled up. It’s just the two of you alone in the apartment; The air is charged with electricity between the two of you. The scrape of your teeth makes Bucky’s lips curl into a devious grin.

“You’re doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praises. “My pretty baby, yeah… God– Do you feel what you do to me, honey…?” Bucky’s voice was hoarse, the friction working him up just as much as it was you. The throbbing between your legs was becoming insatiable - your answer coming in a whimper as you sucked another purpling bruise into Bucky’s throat.

Your hips move enthusiastically. Trying to meet Bucky for every grind; Becoming too much for him to handle at one point.

“Sl-Slow down, baby… Easy, we’ve got time,” he attempts to coax, but you’re busy chasing that high at that moment. You want to make Bucky feel good - this is doing that for him; Pleasing him.

“What’s wrong, big guy?” You ask with an airy giggle, nosing up to Bucky’s ear. Your lips press against the shell of his ear; “I can’t get enough of you touching me, Bucky. I just want to make you come, thinking about it turns me on so much…”

You don’t realize until it’s too late what the words do to him, whispered out right in his ear. Bucky’s nose scrunches up and his jaw goes slack. His body becomes taut underneath you; Hands clutching hard and leaving a dull ache in your bones despite the way you’re still trying to move. Bucky’s hips stutter harshly, and suddenly he’s gasping out. Moaning low and breathy as he rides out his orgasm with half-hearted bucks up into your ass.

Your eyes widen with a sense of wonder as Bucky comes undone in those short few seconds. His lips curl into a perfect ‘o’ and he shudders, eyes pinched shut. “Ohhhh fuuuck,” Bucky moans, long and drawn out, and there’s not a hotter sight than Bucky Barnes coming because of you. You smile; Pleased with yourself and priding yourself on the fact of being able to be the one to do this to Bucky. You continue the grueling roll of your hips into his hard dick - little left to the imagination while your fingers tangle in his hair and you hold him close. Watching his face all the while; Not wanting to miss a single moment.

Bucky rides it out until he’s left with beads of sweat misting his hairline, panting with the rise and fall of his chest. Taking his time, licking his lips before seemingly becoming sheepish of how easily he’d just fallen apart. No warning; It’s been so long since he’s had another sexual partner to experience these things within a positive environment.

Your hips only stop when he’s well and done, knowing that most guys half the time are one-and-done. “That… That felt really good, m’sorry, it’s– it’s different. With, y’know, someone else… Versus alone…” Bucky manages awkwardly, and you simply draw him in for a lingering kiss.

“I understand,” You murmur comfortingly against his lips. “You can clean up in the bathroom; I don’t have anything in your size for underwear, unfortunately, but I can find a pair of flannel bottoms that might fit…” “What about you?” Bucky asks, raising a brow. “Me?” “You.. You didn’t get to… Y’know.”

It’s oddly endearing how he worries about the fact that you weren’t able to get off the way he had. “What, we’re afraid to use adult language now?” You tease, and Bucky rolls his eyes. “M’bein’ serious. I want you to feel good…” Bucky says, rubbing your thighs soothingly. “I can get it up again if you give me a minute.” He adds, and for a moment you’re confused before placing the answer upon a super soldier refractory period.

“You’d be comfortable with that..?” You ask with a curious tilt, and Bucky bites his lips together; you can see the lingering daze in his eyes from the post-orgasm haze. “No,” he answers almost nervously. “I… Tonight has been a lot already. I don’t think I want to go there yet…” And you expect it to end there, but: “I have something else in mind, though.”

“Oh, do you now…?” you muse, curious. “Have you ever heard of mutual masturbation…?”

You’re both sat facing one another on the couch; One of your legs tucked under your body and pants long abandoned to the floor leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You’d felt far less reluctance than Bucky had when it came to stripping down; The layers shed easily as your anticipation festered more and more to the surface.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited. You’ve known Bucky for a while now, and let’s not lie to yourself - He’s a good-looking man who can do things with a single look. The ‘Barnes Charm’ he was so popular for when he was young was still there; Showing itself in small flickers of moments from time to time. The only instances in acting on it on your behalf were in the comfort of your bedroom, alone in the sheets. No one’s business but yours.

But now you’re there with him and no one else. No one to disturb your private moment.

Touch was something that was hard for Bucky - he’d expressed that to you when he stammered over what he’d been asking of you. That he’d rather watch one another right then.

Bucky had no problem drinking you in, either. His eyes were fixed on every movement you made - when you’d peeled your shirt off his eyes followed the expanse of glowing skin and studied it all. Every curve and slope of your body; There was no question of how enamored he was with you. It was the first time in a long time you’d felt truly seen. Someone who wasn’t just trying to get into your pants but found you breathtaking.

It was flattering; You could feel the heat in your cheeks and the way it flustered you to be looked at in awe. There was something about Bucky that made you feel perfect. He was a man that was genuine in everything he did; Not much of a people-pleaser if he doesn’t have to be. Arguably a little stubborn, actually. You knew nothing about the way he looked at you was feigned.

He chews his lip as his eyes study you. Leaned more forward from where he’s sat sideways on his half of the couch. Left hand clutching the back of the couch cushion, Bucky had that familiar bulge in his jeans (which were now unbuttoned and peeled open to show off his navy blue briefs).

“You look so perfect, doll…” Bucky murmurs lovingly after a moment, and your heart melts in your chest.

The words felt too intimate for you to accept easily, but you didn’t want to reject the compliment either. So rather than reply verbally, you leaned back into the cushion propped up behind you and drew your right leg up; Pressed into the back of the couch. Your right leg dangles off the side of the couch and leaving you exposed to Bucky. A welcome invitation if he decides to change his mind and wants to touch you.

Bucky breath hitches; shuddering out a slow exhale through his nose. His gaze is hungry, his hand thoughtlessly moving to his own groin to palm the returning erection.

“I’ll love you right, one of these days, sugar.” Bucky promises with a lick of his lips. “This is just fine for tonight, Bucky,” You reassure him, and his gaze racks up to your face. “Thank you again for understanding,” And the softness in his hungry eyes sends a cold desire to your core - something more intimate about that look than the one threatening to eat you whole. “Anything for you.” You tell him, meaning every word.

With that, you make a deliberate show of teasing your fingers down your chest and tummy before slinking between your legs.

“Aww, that’s it, sugar,” Bucky hums fondly with a breathy chuckle. “Eager little thing, gonna put on a pretty show for me..?”

“Only if you promise to do the same; This is just as much for me as it is for you,” You tease affectionately, mood defiled when you trace your hole with your middle and ring finger. The pads of your fingers are cold on sensitive skin, leaving you to shiver and sigh out an airy moan.

“M’not in nearly as a rush as you are, sweetheart.” Bucky hums, and you catch the way his hand slides down to palm at his cock through his underwear. “So excited to be on display, are we?” “Just for you,” you exhale, preening at the way he looks at you while experimentally dipping the tips of your fingers into your wet and wanting hole.

“Thank God, might have to wring someone by the neck if I gotta share a sight as sweet as this...” The tone is playful and joking, but there are traces of genuine possessiveness in Bucky’s voice. The idea alone is enough to have you showing off; gathering the wetness and making a deliberate show of smearing it over glistening skin. Bucky licks his lips with a look as though he wants to eat you alive.

Atleast it’ll give him something to look forward to for when you both do get to the point you can be physically comfortable with intimacy. You can have more than enough fun with this.

“Mother, mary, n’ joseph…” Bucky drawls; that Brooklyn accent of his coming through thick with the rumble of his words. He relaxes back into the couch while you continue the steady stroke of teasing yourself, playing with your clit and leaving your cunt throbbing. Bucky properly slides his jeans down his thighs and bunches his briefs along with them.

The evidence of his previous orgasm smeared in his soiled briefs, his cock thick and bobbing at the cool air. Bucky hisses through his teeth before spitting into his hand and stroking himself off languidly.

“Don’t stop, sweetheart. Keep touchin’ yourself for me, I wanna see how you like it…” the words were hummed low, squeaking a moan out of you with just the way he spoke to you alone. “Aww, did you like that, baby? Like the way I talk to you..?”

You bite your lip, swallowing back the noises and answering Bucky’s question in a profuse nod. Fingers still insistently tracing yourself to that sweet spot, you could feel the slow knot building in the pit of your tummy.

“Ah, ah, ah… If m’gonna talk, I wanna hear those sweet noises, babydoll. Sing for me,” Bucky cooes with a breathy chuckle, still fucking his fist on the length of his cock. Pre-come beading at the slit and making the tip glisten with the signs of his arousal.

“Oh, Bucky,” You wantonly mewl out, surprising yourself with how helpless you sound. Trailing your slick fingers down to press the tip of your middle finger into your weeping cunt. Experimentally pressing in, having been pent up for what felt likes ages and aching for relief.

“That’s it, baby,” Bucky’s hand begins to speed up over his aching cock; His thickness jerking in his palm whenever you make a particularly sweet noise. “Show me how you stuff that needy cunt; I wanna see how you - fuck - take care of yourself…”

You moan for Bucky; needy and high and airy. It just feeds into his own arousal as he jerks off across from you. His own groans deep and rough - Piercing gaze keeping you pinned to the couch. Unable to look away from the way Bucky’s gaze bore into you.

His eyes watch you expectantly; Waiting for you to do what he’s asked. You oblige.

Your fingers press knuckle-deep into your cunt; Experimentally thrusting into your channel and leaving your back to arch slightly off the arm of the couch.

“Oh,” you mewl out, fingers driving into your hole, stretching your tightness and leaving your arousal to spill out.

Bucky jerks his thick cock, hand sliding easily and the ministration made easier by the pre-come that spills over his fist. He shifts his hips, licking his lips and grinning at the way you fuck yourself open.

“Look at you, such a pretty baby,” Bucky breathes low between pants for air. “If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought you – mmh, god - were waitin’ for this. So eager to get that hole wet…”

The way Bucky talks to you makes your chest flutter. Your face feels hot, gasping as it drives the way you fuck your hole. Watching the up-stroke on Bucky’s cock - imagining the length sliding home into you and whimpering at the thought. Your eyes screw shut, the room filled with the slick sounds of your fingers in your hole.

“Oh no, babydoll, open those pretty eyes. I want you to watch me,” Bucky demands, and your eyes open on command. “Yeah, that’s it… Good baby, see this?” Bucky stops the stroking of his dick to let his fingers wrap around the girth and give a little tap of the tip to his thigh. Showing off the girth and his thick balls.

“Yeah, yeah this is all for you, honey. M’so hard for you, all for you…” The rumble of his voice was soothing as it was arousing.

“Bu-Bucky,” you squeak past trembling lips. Thighs softly quaking — Bucky’s words could get you off alone. Who knew he was such a filthy talker?

“I’m right here, sugar. ‘S okay, make yourself feel good. Don’t gotta hold back for nothin’, show me, pretty thing. I wanna see it all…” It’s permission if you’ve ever heard it, and suddenly at that moment, you realize how dependent Bucky’s say was over your building orgasm. As if your body knew it was waiting on his approval before you could let yourself come undone.

Your legs draw up to clench your thighs – Stopping yourself when you remember Bucky’s eyes are still fixed upon your flushed body. Watching the hypnotizing display of the quick work you made fingering your needy cunt while he relished int he display. Stroking his cock languidly before building up a pace that matched your own; Wanting to follow your arousal with you.

Just because you both weren’t touching doesn’t mean he couldn’t work with you.

It doesn’t take much; Not that it surprises you. You’d been pent up from the previous grinding into one another; hot and bothered by kisses that gave you a hint of what more could be like.

While your one hand is busy playing with your nub, your free hand smooths up to ruck up your shirt. Bucky’s dilated eyes light up even more when your hand moves under your top; Rolling a nipple between your fingers and drawing even more whorish noise from your swollen lips.

Bucky downright growls, hips arching subtly off the couch as he fucks up into his fist.

“Fuck, you like to play with your nipples, baby? Aww, bet you’re so sensitive… Mm, fuck, yea… M’gonna love gettin’ my hands on you when we’re ready. Gonna learn every nook n’ cranny of you; Wanna worship that pretty body of yours.”

He keeps talking like that; each word straight to your aching core and leaving you soaked. Bucky picks up on it in the way you get louder — noisier.

“You like that? Of course you do — who knew you were so fuckin’ filthy, sugar? Aw, m’gonna come, baby,” Bucky’s voice even until it begins to find a sense of urgency towards the end. A sharp breath from him, both of your hands moving while you watch one another. Pleasuring yourselves and being your most intimate selves; On display for one another.

Your jaw is slack, gasping and moaning out pitiful squeaks while you touch yourself. Bucky’s hand moves smoothly over his arousal, the sound of skin on skin as he jerks himself off.

“Oh, oh fuck, please, I-I’m gonna come, Bucky,” you cry out, and Bucky thumbs at the tip of his cock; wrist twisting towards the head.

“Come for me, baby. C-Cream all over your pretty fingers — come for me, come for me,” Bucky’s words drive you over the edge.

Your walls flutter emptily; begging to be filled as you come undone under your fingers. It’s cloud nine, riding out your high on your familiar fingers. Thighs trembling and soaked with your wetness, hips canting up into nothing as you finish on your fingers. Gasping and squealing out until you’re reduced to pathetic whimpers.

Bucky watches you all the while. Fucking his fist and growling out through his bared teeth when you come. Reaching his own orgasm and painting his fist in thick stripes of creamy white that you want to lick clean. He pants, face flushed as his cock spills his heavy load. Staining the denim of his jeans and leaving a mess (though he’s careful of the couch).

You both slump into the couch, still facing one another when the high has passed. Panting for air, the smell of sex and sweat heavy in the air. You’re the one to break the quiet with an airy giggle, which Bucky grinds widely in response to.

“Are you alright, honey..?” Bucky asks curiously, his own voice hoarse and quiet. “Perfect. How’s about a shower…? You’ve already seen me from the stomach down, I’ve already seen your dick. That’s practically all we have. Nothing to hide,” you offer with a roughness to your own voice, swallowing thickly. You smile, still lingering in the soft air of the post-orgasmic haze.

“Sounds perfect, baby. I’ll go get the shower runnin’, okay?” Bucky offers, tucking his mess back into his underwear (he won’t be wearing them much longer anyways). Scooting forward, he uses his clean hand to cup the back of your head and press a gentle kiss to your temple.

You nod with a soft, ‘mhm’. Enjoying the settling moment's peace and serenity despite the cooling wetness coating your thighs. Moving will be awful but it was well worth it.

Bucky certainly leaves an impression. Kicking off the evening with flowers and a ride to the art museum, strolling the halls lovingly with him while partaking in art, only to come back to your apartment and masturbate together. Bucky might be more full of surprises than you thought. You couldn’t be more excited.

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authorhjk1 · 5 months

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Surviving NNN

Part Three: A star

You sit on the balcony of your apartment, letting the cold breeze brush your face. The cold shower you just took helped. Or at least it eased the pain. Yena's gorgeous body still wanders through your mind. The way the towel slowly slid up, revealing her legs. How it created a small cleavage over her small breasts.

You are saved by the sound of the door being opened. Hearing small footsteps, you do your best to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Oppa?"

You recognize Chaewon's voice.

"Yeah."

"Minju made breakfast. You coming?"

"Of course. Give me a second."

You feel a little guilty letting your guests cook, but the three girls can cook way better than you. Apart from some basic dishes you can't do very much.

"What are you doing?"

Chaewon steps closer, now standing right behind you, while looking over your shoulder as you sit in one of the comfortable chairs.

"I'm working on some lyrics." "Really?"

You hear the excitement in Chaewons's voice.

"I'm a huge star, you know?"

She grabs another chair and sits down next to you, looking at the ipad in your lap.

She referred to herself as a star, which is the name for your fandom. Your stage name is Jin-wol. It translates to moon or jewel in English. That's why the fandom name stars somewhat fit.

You are happy to hear that Chaewon is a star, she is a well known idol after all.

"Really?"

The young woman nods in excitement.

"I watched your recent MV like a million times."

You chuckle as Chaewon tries to glance at your ipad. Unfortunately, there is nothing much to look at so far.

"What's the new song about?"

"Read for yourself."

You offer her the ipad and Chaewon starts to read. It isn't much yet, but you can see her blushing harder and harder with every word.

"Th-This is gonna be your song?"

"Yeah. I can write and produce my own music, but usually the company decides on what theme we do for every album.

"Ah, I see."

Chaewon's cheeks are still a little red as she gives you the ipad back. It is hard work to write this stuff right now, beacuse of NNN. It's supposed to be a sexy concept. A combination of obvious hints about sex and some a little less obvious. It wouldn't have been a problem without NNN at all. You could just take more than enough "inspiration" from Karina. And even if someone would catch up on that, it's no big deal, since the two of you are together anyway.

You eat breqakfast in silence, while you listen to three girls chatting. With your mind still on the song and your mind capable of more than just vivid imagination, you keep your head down.

"Oppa."

You slowly raise your head, barely able to look at Minju. The things that went through your brain during your run make you feel bad. How could you think about her like that?

"Since its Saturday, the three of us wanted to go shopping. You wanna come with?"

You rather not. You need to keep writing. And you need some space to breath. Having these three girls constantly around you makes you anxious.

"I actually still have some work to do."

"Oh come on."

Yena looks at you.

"We will reward you afterwards."

She gives you a wink and your mind starts spinning again. What kind of reward?

"What kind of reward?"

Yena chuckles. Your voice may have sounded a little too desperate.

"I'm tot gonna tell you. But it has something to do with cream."

She smirks at you.

New pictures flood your mind.

Yena on her knees, holding a can of wipped cream. She pours some of it into her mouth, before looking up at you. Her hands work to take of your pants. You groan as you feel her warm lips part around your cock. The cold wipped cream is a great contrast to them. It slowly starts to melt in Yena's mouth. She pushes it around with her tongue, while looking up at you.

"Oppa?"

You slightly shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts.

"No."

"Why not?"

Yena pouts. You can't stop looking at her lips. Just a moment ago they were wrapped around your cock....

"Please, Jin-wol oppa."

Minju pouts as well.

"Karina unnie told us to take you. She said you hate shopping."

That's somewhat true. You never liked it. Which means Karina usually does it for you. She knows evry size, from shoes to shirt. She also has a better sense of style than you.

The person who breaks your last resistance is Chaewon.

"Like you wrote in your lyrics: 'I see donuts left and right, but I just want to glaze yours all night' you know?"

No. No way in hell she doesn't know what you meant by that. She must. Chaewon must know exactly what you meant. The other lines are even more explicit. She must have picked up on this.

And yet, she looks at you with an innocent face.

"We could get you some donuts."

Yena chips in.

"I like my donut glazed as well."

You almost have to take another shower as you hear her say that. You stuff your mouth with food, trying to avoid the pictures coming back.

"Chaewon? Are you coming?"

Yena shouts through the apartment, while the three of you wait for Chaewon. She is the last on to get dressed.

"Oppa, why don't you go and get her?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. She is a big fan of yours. I'm sure she will hurry up when she sees you.

"Fine."

You walk towards Yena's and Chaewon's shared room.

"Chaewon."

"Come in."

You hesitate for obvious reasons, but you eventually open the door. Bad decision. Not just because of the way Chaewon is dressed, but because the two of you are alone.

"What do you think?"

You think a lot. Way too much actually. The number of days you survived without cuming is increasing steadily. And Chaewons outfit makes you dizzy.

You just want to take her right there.

Push her against the wall, throwing that large bag aside. Open the zipper of her jeans, while she does the same with yours. Your lips dance along her skin on her shoulders, enjoying the smoothness. Without much forplay, you would just enter Chaewon. Her eyes shut tight as her petite body tries to accustom itself to your cock. A moan escapes her mouth while you push inside. Your hands resting on her tight midriff. Your thumb playfully grazes over her mole as you make Chaewon sigh with pleasure.

You start to fuck her hard into the wall. More and more. Faster and faster. Your body releasing all the build up tension.

"Oh god! Your cock!"

Chaewon moans loudly as you pound her hard. Your dick is deep inside her pussy. Your girlfriend's friend's pussy. Your fellow idol's pussy. Your fan's pussy.

Chaewon is all of that. And more. Your lips find hers, trying to muffle her moans as you take her body. The young woman gives herself to you, relishing in the pleasure you give her.

"Harder, please! Fuck me good!"

Her high pitched yelps make you pound her harder. You feel Chaewon's walls contract around you. Her body shakes even more.

"Oh my god! I'm gonna cum on your cock!"

And so she does. Chaewon orgasms in your arms as you keep fucking her. You chase your own orgasm which is building up as well. After almost three weeks of no cuming, you feel your cock almost bursting as you are about to climax.

"Give it to me. Give me your cum."

Chaewon asks for it. She looks into your eyes, her head slightly swaying back and forth as you pound her against the wall. You are surprised when she manages to undo the button of her jeans in a frenzy. She pulls down her jeans just enough for you to get a good look at her pussy.

The sight makes you orgasm right there. You manage to pull out. You start cuming all over her. Your cum lands mostly on her freshly fucked pussy. Some of it on her midriff. The two of you breath heavily after your short fuck.

Looking down, you realize that you mad your lyrics come true. You did glaze Chaewon's donut.

________

Hi everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this. The lyrics might come of as a little cringe but I'm a writer not a composer , so please don't judge me to harshly.

Tomorrow will be the last day of round one for the Decmber speical, if i'm correct. You will be able to vote for the actual chapters as soon as this round ends

Have a great day!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #le sserafim #chaewon #chaewon le sserafim

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Batting Practice Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: A perfect day isn't enough to solve all your problems, but a Bradley who shows you how much he wants you and Everett might just do the trick.

Warnings: Fluff and swearing

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

As Bradley pulled into the lot at Petco Park, he flashed a VIP parking pass at the guard. You still weren't sure why you needed to get to the game so early, but honestly, you didn't mind spending some extra time around Bradley today. He made Everett happy, and you were really considering giving him a second chance. Because he made you happy, too.

Bradley and Everett were singing a song about the Phillie Phanatic, and now you were singing along too. He held your hand tight while he parked the Bronco next to the ballpark, and when he grinned and pulled you out through his door with him, you couldn't help but smile.

"I'm so happy you came," he whispered, looking down at you with a crooked smile that had your heart melting. "I planned a lot of stuff to surprise Ev, but if you and he aren't having fun, then we can always just get some food or leave early."

You shook your head at him, amazed that he didn't get it yet. "There's nothing that kid wants more than to spend the day with you, watching the Phillies."

"That's what I want, too," he replied, opening the back door and lifting Everett down. "Ready, kiddo? I have something cool to show you."

You walked a few steps behind them as they made their way to the turnstile hand in hand. "What's faster, a slider or a changeup? And how does the catcher know when to get the pitcher to throw a curveball?" Everett rambled. They looked adorable in their matching backwards caps.

"They practice together a lot. Just the two of them. And they get really good at knowing how to communicate."

"That's cool. I wanna be a pitcher and a power hitter."

"Kid, if you can manage to combine those two, you'll hit the majors for sure," Bradley told him, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were there. With a smile, he handed three tickets to the guy in the booth, and next thing you knew, you were all being ushered through an underground tunnel.

"Where are we going exactly?" you asked Bradley, losing the battle to slip your hand into his free one. The three of you were being led down a long ramp by a tour guide named John who had given each of you VIP badges to wear.

"On a locker room tour," he replied, and then Everett really got excited.

"I get to go in the locker room?" he asked, skipping ahead and making John chuckle.

"I told them you wanted to see the visitors' locker room," Bradley told Everett. "Maybe some of the Phillies uniforms will be hanging up."

And they were. You stood in the middle of the visitor's suite that looked more like a luxury hotel than a men's locker room while Everett ran around with your phone taking pictures. "Mom! Take a picture of us in front of the bats!"

You snapped a few photos of Bradley and Everett standing near the equipment, and then you tucked your phone away. "This is so cool," you whispered to Bradley while the tour guide showed Everett the snack bar that was reserved for the players. "Thank you."

Bradley sighed. "Jake hooked it up. He begged the groundskeeper. I think he felt bad for what he said to you at the bar."

You nodded and met his eyes. "He told me he likes moms." You watched his eyes narrow just a fraction as he licked his lips.

"Yeah, well I love moms, actually. I was just overcompensating for my insecurities before. You and Ev are intimidating."

You scoffed. "Intimidating?"

Bradley nodded, his brown eyes sincere. "I told you, Kitten, you two are perfect. And I got in my own head."

"I'm eating the snacks that the players eat!" Everett announced, holding up a bag of peanuts. The tour guide let him take a few as he led all three of you into one of the press boxes.

Your hand ended up in Bradley's and he kept pulling you closer, but once he saw who was in the press box, his grip on your hand tightened until it was almost painful.

"Ev, you asked who the starting pitchers were?" Bradley said in awe. "Well, here they are."

"Hey, are you Everett?" asked the Phillies starting pitcher, and you were afraid your son and Bradley were both going to faint.

"Yeah?" your son asked, and John led him closer to the table where two men were sitting.

"Wait, are you really a Phillies fan? I heard you're from San Diego!" said the Padres pitcher with a laugh.

"I like you, too!" Everett said hurriedly. "The Padres are my second favorite team, I swear!" You laughed and both pitchers smiled at you.

"How about we both sign a shirt for you?" asked the Phillies pitcher. "I don't think anyone else has a shirt signed by rival pitchers."

"Holy shit," Bradley muttered as he watched them each sign an MLB all-stars shirt and hand it to Everett.

"Why don't you get in there with him for a photo, Coach?" you asked. Bradley let go of your hand so fast to scramble behind the table with Everett, and you snapped a few pictures of the four of them. Then the pitchers stood and shook hands with Bradley, and it amazed you to see that he was built exactly like the professionals were. Tall, broad and strong.

"Have fun with your parents, Everett," the Padres pitcher told him, knocking his Phillies cap crooked and smiling. "Enjoy the game."

"We will!" Everett and Bradley said in unison, and you stood frozen in place. Maybe they had been too excited to process the word parents, but you'd heard it loud and clear.

They both looked dazed as John led them back through the tunnel. "Are you both okay?" you asked with a laugh as Bradley's hand found yours again.

"That was awesome," Bradley said, tossing Ev's new shirt over his shoulder as they emptied out of the tunnel and onto the ballfield. It was a perfect, clear day, and you heard John tell Everett he could run around anywhere except on the outfield. You watched your son take off like a rocket and run around the bases while you cheered for him. He looked so small out on a real infield.

"Oh, fuck it," Bradley said, and he took off running the bases too while you laughed and cheerer for both of them. Bradley caught up to Everett near home plate where you were standing, and after they both crossed the bag, he scooped Everett up into his arms.

They were both out of breath as Bradley said, "You'll have to get used to running that far if you're a power hitter."

"I can do it," Everett told him, and they had gigantic, matching smiles on their faces.

You snapped a few more photos, and then John asked, "Want to throw some pitches?" He handed Bradley a few pristine baseballs, and he and Everett took off toward the pitcher's mound. You stood off to the side as Bradley got Everett set up and in position with one of the balls. Then your son threw a pitch that didn't quite have enough force behind it to make it all the way to home plate, but it was thrown so accurately, you watched it roll to where the batters normally stood.

"Wow! Great job, Ev! Very accurate!" you shouted, thoroughly impressed. He threw a second pitch, and it was just as good as the first one. Then you watched Bradley trade places with him and wind up to throw what you thought was a slider. It sailed beautifully past home plate and bounced off the advertisement signs. He threw a second one that looked like a fastball.

"Hey! You're good!" said John as Bradley and Everett ran from the mound to home plate. "Did you play?"

"Just in college," Bradley replied, collecting the balls so John didn't have to. "A long time ago."

"He's a tee ball coach!" Everett announced. "He coaches my team!"

You didn't know if you could remember a time Everett looked this happy, and you felt like you were going to cry. This wasn't a one off. You needed this kind of day to happen again. Maybe not on the grand scale of gallivanting around Petco Park like VIPs, but you needed more days in the park getting ice cream. You needed more pizza nights. You need to have Bradley touching you at the batting cages and making love in his Bronco.

"Come here, Kitten," he called, waving you over. "I want a picture of the three of us on home plate."

You closed the distance to them, and Bradley tucked you against his side with Everett in front of both of you. John took some pictures with Bradley's phone, and you let your head rest on his shoulder. "Thank you for doing this," you whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "He's in heaven."

"So am I," Bradley replied softly before kissing your lips. "I didn't do anything though. All I did was mess up, Kitten." He was being sincere, and you knew it. You thought you'd have to be an idiot to not forgive him. When John handed his phone back to him, you wrapped your arms around Bradley's waist.

"Cute family photos," John remarked, and Everett turned to see you in Bradley's arms.

"Thanks," Bradley replied as he rubbed your back. "Hey, Ev, why don't you run the bases one last time, kiddo?"

"I'll time you," John told him, setting the stopwatch on his phone and telling Ev when to start.

You looked up at Bradley and whispered, "I forgive you." He squeezed you tighter and let out a deep sigh of relief that made you smile. "And not just because today is perfect, but also because Everett and I are both attached to you, so you better not mess this up."

His lips were on yours in the sweetest kiss that had you reaching for more as he pulled away. He kissed you a little harder and whispered, "I'll be so good to you. Both of you," against your lips. You knew he was telling the truth.

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

Bradley was trying to stay calm, but it was nearly impossible. You were sitting two seats away from him, eating some nachos and smiling at Everett. Whenever your eyes met his, Bradley sighed in relief. He would ask you to be his girlfriend later tonight after the game. He was completely ready for that. Ready to be around for you and Everett.

"Thanks, Bradley," Ev told him, and Bradley managed to get a napkin under Everett's hot dog before it could drip ketchup on his jersey. "This is probably the best day I've ever had."

It was only the bottom of the first inning, but the Phillies were already leading by one run. The day had been perfect up to this point, but Bradley desperately wanted them to win for Everett. "Probably the best day I've ever had, too, kiddo."

The smile that touched your lips before you bit into a chip had Bradley grinning too. And as the innings wore on and the sun started to set, the stadium lights glowed to life. Everett was sitting on the edge of the seat when the Padres had the bases loaded, and it was all up to the pitcher that had autographed his shirt to save it for the Phillies. Without a word, Everett scrambled onto Bradley's lap to get a better view, and they both held their breath as the pitch count reached three balls and two strikes.

"Come on," Bradley muttered, wrapping his arm around Everett's middle. When the pitcher struck out the batter, Bradley jumped to his feet with Everett, and they cheered with the few other Phillies fans sitting in the section. "Still have the lead!"

You were sitting in Everett's vacant seat when Bradley settled down with Ev on his lap again, and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. "You boys having fun?" you asked.

"Yep!" Everett said, clapping as the Phillies shortstop walked up to bat.

Bradley leaned in and kissed your cheek, his mustache tickling your ear. "We should do this all the time. At least until he gets to see every team play the Padres."

"And what if he decides he likes a different team better than the Phillies after he sees them all?" you asked, and Bradley scoffed.

"Do we look like fair weather fans?" he asked, gesturing to himself and Everett. "No. That's not going to happen, Kitten."

You laughed and leaned in to kiss him. "You're right. What was I thinking?"

"If the Phillies make it to the playoffs, we'll go to Philadelphia and watch them play and eat cheesesteaks and meet the Phanatic in person," he told you with conviction.

"Yeah, mom," Everett agreed, never taking his eyes off the game. "Because the Phanatic only goes to home games."

"Yeah, Kitten," Bradley echoed. "The Phanatic only goes to home games."

"You're both ridiculous," you said, but your smile was wide as you let your head rest on his shoulder.

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

You felt a tinge of disappointment as the Padres managed to tie the game in the eight inning. Everett was squirming a bit on Bradley's lap in anticipation, and Bradley had his fingers laced with yours.

"Do you want to switch laps, Ev?" you asked, and both Bradley and Everett replied with a firm No.

But Everett hopped off of Bradley's lap when the inning ended, and it didn't escape your attention that his gaze settled on your joined hands on the armrest. "I'll only be a little bit sad if the Phillies lose, okay? Because I'm having a lot of fun." Then he climbed back on Bradley's lap as you chuckled.

"Me too, kiddo, but wouldn't it be great if the Phillies hit a homerun to win the game?" he asked, straightening out Everett's cap.

"That would be so cool," Everett agreed as a new batter came up to the plate for the Phillies.

You pulled Bradley closer, and he gave you his undivided attention. You kissed his lips softly and said, "I think you're right. I want to do this all the time, too." Bradley's lips curled into a smile as he nodded, so you continued with a smile of your own. "The Padres play the Pirates here on Ev's birthday next month. So maybe we can do this again? I know it would be a late game, since it's during the week, but we could see if Molly and Bob want to come too. It could be really fun. What do you think?"

Bradley let go of your hand and wrapped his warm fingers around your neck, pulling you closer until your hand found his cheek while he kissed you. You moaned softly against his lips, you'd missed him this way so much. Then his nose bumped yours as he released your lips but kept you close to him. "Kitten, I think I love you."

"Look!" Everett shouted, and both you and Bradley turned to see what was going on. The echo of the solidly hit ball was still in the air as Bradley dumped Everett onto your lap and stood. You managed to stumble to your feet with Everett as Bradley jumped and caught the Phillies home run ball with his bare hand while the player rounded the bases to the sound of everyone in your section cheering. Then you watched as Bradley toppled over the armrest and into the aisle with a look of elation mixed with terror on his face.

"He caught it!" Everett cheered, launching himself onto Bradley who was trying to sit up awkwardly on the stairs. But he smiled and hugged Everett, handing him the ball while he clenched and unclenched his hand.

"Are you okay?" you asked, laughing as Bradley stood with Everett hanging onto him.

"Yeah, Kitten," he grunted, kissing your lips while everyone cheered. "Just gonna be a little sore. Damn, my hand hurts," he said, shaking it out again. The three of you were being featured on the big screen as they showed a replay of Bradley jumping up over and over again.

"Dad of the year!" the guy across the aisle shouted to Bradley, and you couldn't stop smiling.

"Thanks, man," Bradley replied with a laugh as he sat down. Everett had Bradley in a headlock as he examined his souvenir baseball with wide eyes.

"Wow," Everett said over and over again. "You're good at catching too, Coach."

"I'll teach you everything I know, kiddo."

"That was insane," you whispered, and Bradley laughed.

"I had to catch it. That was a once in a lifetime ball."

Everett was distracted by the end of the game as you leaned in close and pressed your lips to Bradley's. "I think I love you too, Coach."

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

Bradley hadn't stopped touching you for a single moment. He was a little sore from landing on his ass in the aisle, but he honestly couldn't remember a better day in recent memory. When the game ended in a victory for the Phillies, Everett hugged him tight, but Bradley kept his hand wrapped around yours.

When Everett scrambled onto your lap for a hug, you asked him, "Do you want to come back for your birthday? We haven't seen the Pirates play yet."

"Yeah!" Everett cheered, clearly running on a Phillies high. But by the time the three of you were exiting the ballpark, Bradley scopped Everett up and carried him. All of the excitement of the day seemed to have the kid running on empty all of a sudden. When the three of you finally empied out into the parking lot with the rest of the crowd, Everett was mostly asleep in his arms.

"He's wiped out," Bradley told you with a laugh. You had your hand wrapped around his waist, your fingers rubbing his side, and Bradley couldn't stop grinning.

"All the excitement caught up to him." You took the keys from Bradley's pocket and went ahead to unlock the Bronco and open the back door. Bradley carefully deposited Everett into the booster seat and buckled him in as his eyes opened briefly.

"I'm tired," Everett mumbled, and Bradley laughed as he kissed his forehead. "I know, kiddo. Love you." Then he closed the door and you were reaching for him in the shadows of the parking lot, pressing your body to his and kissing him just like he had become accustomed to. He had missed you so much.

He pushed you up against the back door of the Bronco, and you gasped as he sucked on your neck. Your body felt warm against the chill of the night air, and Bradley's hands found their way up inside your shirt. "Kitten," he moaned below your ear. You had one hand wrapped around his neck, and the other was pressing against the fly of his jeans. You could make him go insane. "Kitten, baby, I can't get enough of you."

"Take us home," you demanded. "And stay with me."

"God, yes," he agreed, and then you were climbing in the driver's door and crawling across the seat.

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

Best day ever! Good job, Coach! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 16

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction

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totaly-obsessed · 6 months

Note

hiii! i love ur work so much!!!! i was wondering if i can request a kcc fic where she gets jealous hehehehehehe

Favorites

Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request

-> Kyra finds out that she is not the favorite aunt or girlfriend

-> Hope you like it Anon, even though you probably meant a different jealousy haha

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The national break was always a welcome break from the daily club life, even if the World Cup was not that long ago. You had arrived together with the other Matilda’s that played in England. The plane journey was a long one, but one most of you were accustomed to by now.

Your plan for it? Sleeping. As much as you could. Trainers and mostly everybody you knew tried to tell you that it was bad, but you didn’t really listen – the want to sleep much too big.

Sam, your club teammate sat next to you, anxiously chewing her nails for most of the trip as she was one of the worst fliers you knew. Your captain was always thankful to sit next to you, as you calmed her down with your deep sleep and not a care in the world.

The two seats across from you were occupied by Mary and Kyra who were playing cards, bored out of their minds. Eventually, it was the new Arsenal signing who kicked your feet to wake you. “Huh? Are we there yet?” The two started laughing at your startled face and at how fast you had sat up in your seat. “No, still a while out. You’re playing cards with us.”

It wasn’t a question, Kyra knew that you would just roll your eyes and close them again, desperate for sleep. But she also knew that even you couldn’t resist her puppy eyes, so she batted her lashes at you, knowing that you would cave in.

The two of you had been dating for over a year now. Her joining Arsenal had been the best thing ever – you finally moved in together, which was quite hard with the midfielder playing in Sweden before. Even with the both of you on rival London teams, it was the best thing ever.

When in public Kyra might seem like the excited, touchy one when in private it was you who would simply refuse to let the brunette go, cuddling as close to her as you could. So whipped as you are, you played cards with them and even managed to get Sam to play as well.

“Man, I can’t wait to see Harps again. She grows so quickly.” This has been Kyra’s first time being away for such a long time from the toddler since meeting her. The two-year-old quickly found her way into all the Matilda’s hearts, helping the team relax after a long day, her gleeful giggles sounding through the halls of the facility. “Me neither, maybe she finally decides to be a striker.” Sam was back to consciousness, always happy to talk about the youngest team member – also distracting herself from flying. None of you could help but laugh, knowing that if little Harper decided to be a footballer one day, she would follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a midfielder.

The rest of the journey was long and hard, you were just happy to have Kyra at your side, knowing that you didn’t need to talk, the brunette filling the silence all by herself.

When the group of you arrived at the team hotel it was already late in the day but most of the Tillies that roamed the halls were excited to see each other again after a very successful World Cup. “Auntie Y/N!” A small body made its way through the sea of players, crashing into your open arms as you couched down, ready to hug her. “Harps!” Giggles filled the room as you threw her up in the air and caught her again.

You could feel Katrina’s watchful eyes on you but the short midfielder was never worried when Harper was with you. With Charlie and Kyra? Panic. But once you joined them? Everything was alright. It wasn’t like you were more mature, but the way you carried yourself; serious and careful when needed but you also knew how to have fun – the perfect combination.

“Harper look, Kyra’s here too!” Your girlfriend tried to get the girl's attention but she was much too busy playing with your hair, telling you the story of how her favorite stuffy had found its way to Australia. “Babe, I’ll go make out with Charls, yeah?” When you didn’t even react, the midfielder scoffed offended.

She just got replaced by a two-year-old.

Kyra didn’t know who she envied more. You for being Harper's favorite auntie, or Harper for having all your attention when in the same room.

Once back on the ground, the toddler grabbed your hand, swiftly pulling you out to a field, commanding you to grab a ball. The rest of the Matildas watched in awe as their very stoic teammate turned to mush once the tiny blonde shouted “Again!” signaling you to roll the ball to her so that she could kick it back.

“My girlfriend just got stolen.” The young Arsenal player’s mouth was wide open as Harper took you from her, in broad daylight. Harper kept pulling you out on the field further and further until you couldn’t hear the teasing anymore – not that you paid it any mind.

“Kyra just got replaced!” It was Mackenzie who started joking at their young teammate's expanse. “I still have an open room, should harper take your bed as well!” But it was Caitlin who caused the brunette to whine in defeat.

Katrina knew that you were up to no good when she saw you crouched on the floor, telling Harper something while pointing at the rest of the Matilda’s at the side of the pitch – a devious smile on your face.

Just a few short moments her daughter ran towards them, as fast as she could, arms wide open an excited smile on her face. “Auntie!” Kyra had now crouched down as well, copying your previous action, opening her arms as the small blonde raced directly toward her.

“C’mere Harps!” But Harper had a different plan, throwing herself on the ground as she army-crawled through the midfielder's legs – jumping into Alanna’s strong arms, who stood directly behind Kyra. The crowd erupted in laughter, as you made your way back to them, a sly smirk still on your lips, seeing your girlfriend's very prominent pout as Sam patted her back. “Not the favorite girlfriend, not the favorite aunt – Man, that’s gotta hurt."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross #matildas x reader #matildas

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jester-lover · 1 year

Note

What about dorm leaders with Morticia-like s/o?

Friday, I'm in Love

the dorm leaders with a morticia-like s/o

cw- fem! reader, fluff, mentions of the boy's insecurities, reader being literally the hottest woman alive (author is a goth and loved this)

Riddle

He’s wrapped around your finger and he doesn't even know it

This man sees you for the first time, elegant and refined, and he comes barging towards you

Tries his best to maintain all the manners his mother taught him, but it's so difficult considering just how beautiful and smart you are

Loves dancing with you, especially if you end up guiding and taking the lead, he’ll be absolutely enamored with your confidence

His most favorite thing to do with you, however, is to show you how much power he has over other students, he thinks it’ll make you like him if he’s all big and strong

Honestly you couldn't care less

Tea parties certainly run smoother with you around, because the freshmen don't want to embarrass themselves around a cool and calm young woman like you

In terms of fashion, Riddle appreciates your monotone, sleek wardrobe, even if he desperately wishes you’d wear lower heels so he could appear taller

Riddle’s fiery ambition, and your cool, motherly personality is a combination no one expected

But the two of you know better, the differences in your personality only highlight your individual achievements, pushing you ever closer together

“Dear, you look absolutely exceptional, but perhaps refrain from adding spiders to your hair?”

Leona

Leona loves tough, strong women

(he also lowkey loves women who scare him)

He was first attracted to your confidence, how you turned heads just by strolling past, head held up high and heels tapping

He felt a sense of nervousness he hadn't ever felt before when he tried to ask you out

The two of you are both just so relaxed and aloof, with a hidden romantic side

He puts a considerable amount of effort into your relationship, more than he’s probably ever done for anyone, because you're the most special person in his life

Leona has a deep inferiority complex, and he wants you to know that he can provide for you and be the man you need

You have a natural deadpan sense of humor, and the casually dark things you say often make him laugh

He feels genuinely very calm around you, leading to a lot of afternoon naps

“Why don’t we continue our necromancy discussion after a quick nap?”

Azul

Azul is an appreciator of smooth, sleek and professional aesthetics like yours

By this, I mean he most likely cannot make eye contact with you until you approach him

Your first date is probably a ruinous meal at the Monstro Lounge where he spills his drink all over himself, he gets so humiliated, but you find it adorable

The way he stumbles over himself trying to impress you is so cute, you ask him for another date

The way that this boy worships your every step is noticeable, especially by the tweels, who consistently tease him

The similarity between your clothing is one of his favorite things about you, and he’ll always appreciate your sublime, elevated sense of fashion

“I decided to wear my black tie, to match your dress of course.”

Kalim

Sun x Moon couple, proving once again that opposites do attract

He definitely just saw you one day, thought about you for a week straight and asked you out straight up

Kalim had a bravery other boys didn’t possess, this deeply intrigued you

You tend to make deadpan and dark jokes around him, and he’s never once understood any of them in the moment

He gets it in about 3-5 business days

You give him a sense of order and peace, with your calm demeanor and relaxed attitude, while he gives you excitement, a rush of serotonin you can't find anywhere else

Kalim will complement any new accessory he sees on you, a big smile adorning his face

You two often do your makeup together before events, he usually finishes up first, and watches you because he loves to see the process of your look

“I absolutely adore the clips in your hair, I should buy a pair so that we can match!”

Vil

Power couple

Literally the both of you are so beautiful, everyone on campus turns their head around whenever you walk by

Vil thrives off of attention and compliments, so your affectionate and caring nature is much appreciated

He definitely asks to do your makeup and styling, but backs out when he realizes how iconic your look is, and how he really can't add much to perfection

He will however, help you shop

Anything you want, just tell him, he’ll buy it, he’ll just never admit he’s absolutely whipped for you

The sheer radiance and powerful energy is so much within you two

The jokes and humor you engage in almost break his perfect poised persona, he’s usually not a sucker for comedy, but you bring out his inner comic

“Darling, your red lipstick looks absolutely divine.”

Idia

Was the only one here genuinely afraid of you at first

I mean, you sorta look like one of the villains from his favorite mangas, and he all but avoids you

You find yourself intrigued with the quiet boy, and manage to find his room

Idia is literally about to cry why is a woman in his room??? This has never happened before??? The matrix is crumbling???

You two have a very hushed discussion, and he learns to fear you less

As a boyfriend, he still acts very reserved around you, he fears he might come off as annoying

Just gently ease him into talking about himself and his interests a little more, and you’ll have him ranting about his newest fixation in no time

The fact that you encourage him in his pursuits is something he’s never had before

Idia is actually so amazed by your beauty, he literally pauses and stares at you sometimes

We all know how cool his more formal clothes are, so when he’s inevitably forced to leave his room, he knows he has you to keep him a little more calm

“Everyone here is looking at us, c-can we go home now?”

Malleus

The two of you are an absolutely regal couple, and he knows you are absolutely fit to be his queen

Malleus is attracted to you because of your vast intellect, your cunning nature and your refined taste

(and also because you genuinely enjoy his late night talks about gargoyles)

He makes sure to treat you with the utmost respect and dignity, reserved only for a woman of the court, guiding you gently with his extended hand, dancing with you to slow music, and of course helping you trim your thorns

Our dragon boy knows how to treat a lady, but he might have some trouble picking up on your deadpan humor, and he often just thinks your being serious

Your aesthetics match completely, allowing for the two of you to swap clothing and trade accessories

He knows what he wants in a partner, and you manage to fit completely

Malleus knows people often find him creepy or unnerving, and he knows it's the same for you, there’s a bond formed through your societal isolation

Malleus also makes sure you know he’s in love with you every day, through his kind words and his kinder actions

“Keep me in your thoughts dearest, so that I may become yours forever.”

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maxsimagination · 2 months

Note

Can you maybe write a Steph Catley one? Either one where they both are at Arsenal, and they like each other but are oblivious. And when they win a trophy and are out with the team, everybody in the team tries to make them understand that they actually like each other. And then they understand it, then maybe some foreplay? if you understand:)

𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 - 𝙨.𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙮

warnings: some kissing at the end, alcohol

combination of this ask^ and this ask

-----

“stephy!”

i leapt onto the defenders’ back with no warning, catching her off guard as she tried her best to steady both me and herself.

it was the morning training, preparing for the game that night. steph and i were both in the starting lineup, jonas had pulled out his best for this game against london city.

“are you ready for the match, puddin?”

“yea, i’m excited. it’ll be fun.”

we chatted for a bit longer before jonas called all the girls in for a talk about strategies.

i could spot caitlin and katie off to the side, whispering and pointing in our direction. if it was those two plotting together then it could only end in trouble. i nudged at steph’s side, gesturing to the pair.

“what are they doing? looks suspicious.”

“if it’s katie and caitlin then it can only be something troublesome.”

she wasn’t lying, i laughed quietly at steph’s comment. we all dispersed after the talk had finished, everyone breaking off to get started at training.

it was a good session, the team accomplished what we needed to and i felt ready to go up against london city. when we all went back to the changing rooms, katie and caitlin walked up next to me.

“you wanna join us for coffee?”

that was a bit surprising, considering the two would normally be the first to go home and do couple things.

“um, sure? is anyone else coming?”

“nah just us. we wanna catch up.”

katie played it off, and linked arms with me to drag me to their coffee date.

we went to a quaint little cafe away from the training ground. caitlin found a table while katie took me to the counter and ordered an assortment of drinks and some small pastries. we all went to sit back down at the table and i was fixed with an expectant look from caitlin.

“so, you and steph, huh?”

“um, what?”

“y’know, you and steph. you’re always together and glued at the hip.”

“there’s nothing there. she like, 5 years older than me and i swear she has a fiancé.”

katie and caitlin shared a look, one that told me i was missing the whole picture.

“they broke up months and months ago. like almost a year, i think.”

“oh? is she okay? like she’s over him?”

“yea she’s been okay, but i think having you with her makes her feel better.”

that comment made me blush, deep down somewhere i knew there were feelings for my favourite defender. but i refused to acknowledge them in fear of rejection.

katie and caitlin drove me home after our catch up, so i could get ready for the game.

i was still excited with a bit of nerves, but what i couldn’t stop thinking about was caitlin’s comment about how steph felt better with me there.

when it came time for everyone to be at the stadium, i was picked up by steph, she’d made a habit of driving me around since we lived somewhat close to each other.

katie was captaining today, which everyone knew would end in some sort of dramatics, but we were confident we could at least win the game.

it was only when everyone was told to line up in the tunnel did the nerves come back in full force.

i felt a reassuring hand on the small of my back, turning around to see it was steph.

“you got this. score some goals puddin’.”

the nerves settled a bit at steph’s words, but didn’t die completely. we all walked out, lining up alongside the referee.

katie led the line to shake the officials’ hands then continued on to shake hands with the opposition.

i saw ruesha in the lineup and knew immediately that there would be yellow cards, whether that be for arsenal or london city? only time would tell.

arsenal did win that game.

4-0

it was a win for the ages, and a grand celebration.

when the final whistle was blown, the entire team including subs ran onto the field to join together in a huge hug. it was more like a pile of bodies, but the joy of winning the trophy seems to have overpowered everyone’s rational thought.

we all traipsed down to the locker rooms after doing some rounds with the fans. katie still had a hold of the trophy, waving it round like it was a flag.

“we need to go celebrate!”

the thick irish accent of the vice-skipper rang out and was met with cheers.

“katie we have celebrated.”

“no, properly. waving a trophy round isn’t celebrating, y/n.”

her cocky grin accompanied her words, making it all the more evident that she was making everyone come out to a bar to ‘celebrate’.

we all ended up going to the closest bar we could find. everyone had gone to their respective homes to change then were promptly dragged back out by, you guessed it, katie.

she was the first to shout the round of drinks, insisting everyone have some liquid confidence. when katie passed me my drink, it was accompanied by a shot glass.

i looked at the irish woman with a questionable look, where she smirked and mouthed ‘bottoms up’.

so i did just that.

i grabbed the shot glass, with still no clue what was in it and downed the whole thing. i could tell it was tequila immediately but made no move for a chaser.

i felt eyes on me from my side and turned to find steph’s gaze fixed on me. she was staring, but with a look of what i thought was admiration in her eyes. when she noticed i’d caught her, her cheeks flushed a pink hue and she smiled down at her glass.

throughout the course of the night, katie (and caitlin) were essentially feeding me drinks, pestering me to come up and dance with them.

eventually i gave in and they excitedly grabbed my hands and ran to the dance floor.

we were just vibing to the music, i wa s mostly observing katie and caitlin do the dancing. that was until, both of the girls just disappeared and i felt a presence behind me. i turned to find steph walking up to me.

“care to dance?”

“sure.”

i grinned up at the defender. we kind of just swayed around to the music until a catchy song came on and all the alcohol katie had gotten me started working.

i was jumping around, begging steph to join in, which she did, and we both just kept dancing around with each other.

when that song ended, steph slowed us down, and we moved around a bit before we stood off to the side.

“y/n, can i say something?”

“sure stephy, what’s up?”

i could feel something in my gut, like she was going to tell me something important.

“i really like you.”

i didn’t react right away, i let the information fully enter my brain first before looking steph dead in the eye.

she was a bit taller than me so i was looking slightly upwards, but then i leant up on my tip-toes and pressed my lips to hers.

it was only after i’d actually kissed her that i re-thought my actions, freaked out and decided to pull away. but before i could do that, steph’s fingers would their way up to the nape of my neck and grasped my hair, stopping me from pulling away.

only when we needed a breath did we break apart.

“i take it you like me back then, yea?”

i nodded quickly, then remember to use my words.

“yea. yea i like you a lot.”

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #steph catley #steph catley x reader #steph catley imagine

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jennamoran · 3 months

Text

The Far Roofs: Systems

Hi!

Today I’m going to talk a little bit more about my forthcoming RPG, the Far Roofs. More specifically, I want to give a general overview of its game mechanics!

So the idea that first started the Far Roofs on the road to being its own game came out of me thinking a lot about what large projects feel like.

I was in one of those moods where I felt like the important thing in an RPG system was the parallel between that system and real-world experience. Where I felt like the key to art was always thinking about the end goal, or at least a local goal, as one did the work; and, the key to design was symmetry between the goals and methods, the means and ends.

I don't always feel that way, but it's how I work when I'm feeling both ambitious and technical.

So what I wanted to do was come up with an RPG mechanic that was really like the thing it was simulating:

Finding answers. Solving problems. Doing big things.

And it struck me that what that felt like, really, was a bit like ...

You get pieces over time. You wiggle them around. You try to fit them together. Sometimes, they fit together into larger pieces and then eventually a whole. Sometimes you just collect them and wiggle them around until suddenly there's an insight, an oh!, and you now know everything works.

The ideal thing to do here would probably be having a bag of widgets that can fit together in different ways---not as universally as Legos or whatever, but, like, gears and connectors and springs and motors and whatever. If I were going to be building a computer game I would probably think along those lines, anyway. You'd go to your screen of bits and bobs and move them around with your mouse until it hooked together into something that you liked.

... that's not really feasible for a tabletop RPG, though, at least, not with my typical financial resources. I could probably swing making that kind of thing, finding a 3d printing or woodworking partner or something to make the pieces, for the final kickstarter, but I don't have the resources to make a bunch of different physical object sets over time while I'm playtesting.

So the way I decided that I could implement this was by drawing letter tiles.

That I could do a system where you'd draw letter tiles ... not constantly, not specifically when you were working, but over time; in the moments, most of all, that could give you insight or progress.

Then, at some point, you'd have enough of them.

You'd see a word.

That word'd be your answer.

... not necessarily the word itself, but, like, what the word means to you and what the answer means to you, those would be the same.

The word would be a symbol for the answer that you've found, as a player and a character.

(The leftover letters would then stick around in your hand, bits of thought and experience that didn't directly lead to a solution there, but might help with something else later on.)

Anyway, I figured that this basic idea was feasible because, like, lots of people own Scrabble sets. Even if you don't, they're easier to find than sets of dice!

For a short indie game focused on just that this would probably have been enough of a mechanic all on its own. For a large release, though, the game needed more.

After thinking about it I decided that what it wanted was two more core resolution systems:

One, for stuff like, say ... kickstarter results ... where you're more interested in "how well did this do?" or "how good of an answer is this?" than in whether those results better fit AXLOTL or TEXTUAL. For this, I added cards, which you draw like letter tiles and combine into poker hands. A face card is probably enough for a baseline success, a pair of Kings would make the results rather exciting, and a royal flush result would smash records.

The other core system was for like ... everyday stuff. For starting a campfire or jumping a gap. That, by established RPG tradition, would use dice.

...

I guess technically it didn't have to; I mean, like, most of my games have been diceless, and in fact we've gotten to a point in the hobby where that's just "sort of unusual" instead of actually rare.

But, like, I like dice. I do. If I don't use them often, it's because I don't like the empty page of where to start in the first place building a bespoke diced system when I have so many good diceless systems right there.

... this time, though, I decided to just go for it.

The Dice System

So a long, long time ago I was working on a game called the Weapons of the Gods RPG. Eos Press had brought me in to do the setting, and somewhere in the middle of that endeavor, the game lost its system.

I only ever heard Eos' side of this, and these days I tend to take Eos' claims with a grain of salt ... but, my best guess is that all this stuff did happen, just, with a little more context that I don't and might not ever know?

Anyway, as best as I remember, the first writer they had doing their system quit midway through development. So they brought in a newer team to do the system, and halfway through that the team decided they'd have more fun using the system for their own game, and instead wrote up a quick alternate system for Weapons of the Gods to use.

This would have been fine if the alternate system were any good, but it was ... pretty obviously a quick kludge. It was ...

I think the best word for it would be "bad."

I don't even like the system they took away to be their own game, but at least I could believe that it was constructed with love. It was janky but like in a heartfelt way.

The replacement system was more the kind of thing where if you stepped in it you'd need a new pair of shoes.

It upset me.

It upset me, and so, full wroth, I decided to write a system to use for the game.

Now, I'd never done a diced system before at that point. My only solo game had been Nobilis. So I took a bunch of dice and started rolling them, to see ... like ... what the most fun way of reading them was.

Where I landed, ultimately, was looking for matches.

The core system for Weapons of the Gods was basically, roll some number of d10s, and if you got 3 4s, that was a 34. If you got 2 9s, that was a 29. If your best die was a 7 and you had no pairs at all, you got 1 7. 17.

It didn't have any really amazing statistical properties, but the act of rolling was fun. It was rhythmic, you know, you'd see 3 4s and putting them together into 34 was a tiny tiny dopamine shot at the cost of basically zero brain effort. It was pattern recognition, which the brain tends to enjoy.

I mean, obviously, it would pall in a few minutes if you just sat there rolling the dice for no reason ... but, as far as dice rolling goes, it was fun.

So when I went to do an optional diced system for the Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG, years later, to post here on tumblr ... I already knew what would make that roll fun. That is, rolling a handful of dice and looking for matches.

What about making it even more fun?

... well, critical results are fun, so what about adding them and aiming to have a lot of them, though still like rare enough to surprise?

It made sense to me to call no matches at all a critical failure, and a triple a critical success. So I started fiddling with dice pool size to get the numbers where I wanted them.

I'm reconstructing a bit at this point, but I imagine that I hit 6d10 and was like: "these are roughly the right odds, but this is one too many dice to look at quickly on the table, and I don't like that critical failure would be a bit more common than crit success."

So after some wrestling with things I wound up with a dice pool of 5d6, which is the dice pool I'm still using today.

If you roll 5d6, you'll probably get a pair. But now and then, you'll get a triple (or more!) My combinatorics is rusty, so I might have missed a case, but, like ... 17% of the time, triples, quadruples, or quintuples? And around 9% chance, for no matches at all?

I think I was probably looking for 15% and 10%, that those were likely my optimum, but ... well, 5d6 comes pretty close. Roughly 25% total was about as far as I thought I could push critical results while still having them feel kind or rare. Like ...

If I'm rolling a d20 in a D&D-like system, and if I'm going to succeed on an 18+, that's around when success is exciting, right? Maybe 17+, though that's pushing it? So we want to fall in the 15-20% range for a "special good roll." And people have been playing for a very long time now with the 5% chance of a "1" as a "special bad roll," and that seemed fine, so, like, 20-25% chance total is good.

And like ...

People talk a lot about Rolemaster crit fail tables in my vicinity, and complain about the whiff fests you see in some games where you keep rolling and rolling and nothing good or bad actually happens, and so I was naturally drawn to pushing crit failure odds a bit higher than you see in a d20-type game.

Now, one way people in indie circles tend to address "whiff fests" is by rethinking the whole dice-rolling ... paradigm ... so you never whiff; setting things up, in short, so that every roll means something, and every success and failure mean something too.

It's a leaner, richer way of doing things than you see in, say, D&D.

... I just didn't feel like it, here, because the whole point of things was to make dice rolling fun. I wanted people coming out of traditional games to be able to just pick up the dice and say "I'm rolling for this!" because the roll would be fun. Because consulting the dice oracle here, would be fun.

So in the end, that was the heart of it:

A 5d6 roll, focusing on the ease of counting matches and the high but not exorbitant frequency of special results.

But at the same time ...

I'm indie enough that I do really like rolls where, you know, every outcome is meaningful. Where you roll, and there's never a "whiff," just a set of possible meaningful outcomes.

A lot of the time, where I'm leaning into "rolls are fun, go ahead and roll," what it means to succeed, to fail, to crit, all that's up to the group, and sometimes it'll be unsatisfying. Other times, you'll crit succeed or crit fail and the GM will give you basically the exact same result as you'd have gotten on a regular success or failure, just, you know, jazzing up the description a bit with more narrative weight.

But I did manage to pull out about a third of the rolls you'll wind up actually making and assign strong mechanical and narrative weight to each outcome. Where what you were doing was well enough defined in the system that I could add some real meat to those crits, and even regular success and regular failure.

... though that's a story, I think, to be told some other time. ^_^

#the far roofs #jenna moran #rpgs

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thefallennightmare · 3 months

Text

Just Pretend-Twenty One

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: This entire chapter will be in Angel's POV! Hence the gif! Now before any of y'all ask, no! This isn't a love triangle chapter. Its about a girl who meets someone that has gone through the same thing she has and they have a moment together where they help each other over come those evil parts of their pasts (Platonically) Two people finding their "friendship" soulmates, if ya will.

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses

READER

I sat on my bed with the notebook perched on my lap with papers and discarded pens all over my bedroom. Salem curled up on my pillow next to me, his purring an eerily calm background noise as it combined with the scratching of my pen on paper.

“I know it’s colder where I’m at,” I muttered in a soft tune.

Ew, no not that.

I scratched through the words with such force it ripped through the paper.

“Fuck,” I cursed while tossing the book onto the floor then rubbed ink-stained hands over my face.

I went through four different pens by now and changed the paper from my spiral notebook to printer paper. I had been held up in my room all night writing, not wanting to be bothered. With our tour starting in a few days, we needed to leave tomorrow which meant I spent most of my day and afternoon packing and getting things in order.

For the last few days, Hollow Souls had been working tirelessly to practice our setlist and make sure all of our visuals were spot on. It was our first tour of just the three of us and my nerves were taking over every aspect of my life. I couldn’t even enjoy the fact that I was about to spend the next two weeks with my favorite artist.

nothing, nowhere.

Joe’s music had been a huge part of my healing process for years so when he reached out with the idea of opening up for Hollow Souls, immediately we agreed. Even though the nerves were still there, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I couldn’t count how many times I picked up my phone, wanting to text Noah, but always backed out. I told him I needed some time, truthfully I think I needed it to remind myself I could be my own person and succeed with this band for a little while.

Maybe I needed to prove to myself that I was able to take the lead of this band without anyone pointing the finger, thinking it was someone else behind the curtain. There wasn’t someone else. It was me.

My heart began to stutter in my chest, blood running cold, so I took a deep breath while counting to four; exactly like Dr. Poulos told me to do. Soon, I felt heat spread within me as the image of Noah danced behind my eyelids. I missed him and yearned for his presence. My stomach was in knots since the second I left his house a few days ago.

“I know it’s warmer where you are,” my eyes snapped open as the words fell from my lips.

Fuck, that's good.

We confessed, we told the truth. A weight was lifted off me. Noah loves me.

He fucking loves me back.

“I know it’s warmer where you are, and it’s safer by your side,” I sang while quickly writing it down on a fresh piece of paper. “Right now I can’t be what you want, just give it time.”

I began to ache at times, my stomach was sore, and my head would pound. It was often like this that I began to think I’d caught a cold. I wasn’t- it was just me feeling empty. I knew whatever this moment of self-reflection was, it was worth it. I love Noah and he loved me back.

We’d be together; soon. I had to believe that. I knew in my gut. I trusted it but I hope he trusted me.

“Cause if you and I can make it through the night,” my voice was loud now as I felt comfortable with how the lyrics were now pouring out of me.

But there was this nagging feeling inside of me that I couldn't ignore. We last texted each other at 10 p.m. that night saying we loved each other. The invisible string that always seemed to connect us was urging me to text him. This was something else I couldn’t ignore.

It was important to me that with this new love, the love for Noah, we have made the effort to fully heal first so we do the inner work that is required to become a whole person once more. All born into our era, our family, our body. We can only be ourselves and accountable for ourselves. He needed to know I loved him, and that I’d come to him.

Was it selfish of me to walk away after we confessed our love? I wasn’t sure. I just knew it was important for us both to grow from our experiences. So be that rare kind of true love and this bond will be eternal. That I promise him.

With a deep breath, I shifted my attention to my phone and decided to send the message before I doubted myself again.

Me: I love you, mochi.

Before I could even set my phone down, it buzzed in my hand with a new message.

Mochi 🍡: I love you, angel.

The crushing weight that I felt gripping around my heart lifted as I read Noah’s message over and over again. Although we were apart for the time being, we would be alright because we loved each other. I lay here in deep thought and my mind wandered back to my primal need for intimacy. There is that feeling of maturity, the admittance of being in love with Noah. It arrived without fanfare. Our souls were humble travelers and I could feel the bruise begin to form on my shoulder, so desperate to feel him again.

Salem rubbed his head against my arm and I brought him into my chest, peppering his face in kisses.

“We can meet in the middle, body and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight,” I muttered to myself.

Noah and I have a long road together, and it’s one I wanted to last.

A knock sounded on my door before it opened slowly, Chase's stern smile on his lips.

Uh oh.

He leaned against the door frame. "Sweets, I love you. You know I do. But you're fucking killing me with the paint on the carpet in the dining room."

I knew it.

"I'm sorry! I know, I know.” I nodded with a long sigh. “It's just the lighting in my bedroom sucks compared to the light in the dining room. I'll put down a drop next time."

Malcolm came into my room, laying a kiss on Chase’s cheek before falling onto the end of my bed somehow missing the mess I created with my writing.

“Don’t be so hard on her, Chase,” Malcolm said before motioning to my bed. “How’s the writing going?”

I shrugged. “It’s going, I guess. I think my mind is so preoccupied with the next few weeks that it’s hard to focus.”

“Excited?” Chase questioned.

“Excited?” I scoffed. “I’m fucking ecstatic. In less than twenty-four hours I’m going to meet one of my idols and tour with him for two weeks.”

Malcolm spoke next. “Feeling confident with the setlist?”

“Yeah! I think we’ve got a good amount of songs and I’m stoked to perform Eyelids live. I think it will be a great way to tease the new album.”

I’d been very apprehensive to put one of the newer songs on the set list only because some fans weren’t supportive of Eyelids or St. Patrick when they first came out. But Hollow Souls were evolving into a new era and we couldn’t continue to be stuck in the past.

“Ethan said the bus will be here to pick us up by noon tomorrow,” Chase informed. “Are you all packed and ready?”

I pointed to the three suitcases at the other end of my room but as Salem jumped off my lap to go lay with Malcolm, I realized something important.

"Oh, shit. I forgot to see if someone can take care of Salem,” I chastised myself.

I didn’t miss the glance the two of them shared and raised a brow as Malcolm spoke up. "Already taken care of."

“You asked Noah, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face.

“Maybe,” he shrugged while giving Salem some belly rubs.

Chase rolled his eyes before pushing himself off the door frame and sitting next to Malcolm. “Of course we did. Who else would you ask?”

“I could have asked Jolly or Jesse. I didn’t want to put this on Noah,” I admitted with a shaky breath.

“Well, he’s basically Salem’s dad now,”

“Malcom!” I smacked his shoulder.

“I’m just saying,” he chuckled while rubbing his arm.

“We’re not official yet, guys,” I ran a hand through my hair before pulling my knees to my chest. “Please don’t do that.”

“No way,” Chase shook his hand as Malcolm rested a hand on his thigh. “We’re not doing that. You need to think of the positives. You two said you love each other. Soon you will find your way back to one another.”

“I love your optimism,” I said while playfully rolling my eyes.

“Hey, smart ass. We know these things,” Malcolm snorted while still playing with Salem.

“You do, huh? Do you have connections to the other side?” I teased.

“We were watching a show last week about alternate universes and shit. It made me think that maybe there’s more of us out there, ya know?” he squeezed Chase’s knee. “Who the hell knows, maybe you and Noah fucked one night, magically fell in love, and went on the road with him. By the end of it, you moved into an apartment that’s right across the street from his house because you couldn’t fathom being away from him,” Chase spoke with a smirk.

My face reddened as I shifted my gaze downwards. “Wow, that’s-uh-you really thought about that.”

Malcolm laughed. “Or what if in another life, Noah walked through literal flames for you.”

I snorted at that thought because there was no way Noah would risk his life to walk through a fire to save my life, even if I was hanging from a building.

“Now you’re talking about shit people read in romance novels. Did my long-lost brother start the fire as well?”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m just saying, the two of you will find your way. We’re proud of you and how far you’ve come. You and Noah will grow together.”

My heart jumped in my throat at how sincere Malcolm sounded and the way Chase’s eyes danced as he stared at me.

“Thank you guys. That means a lot to me,” I smiled.

“Always sweets, always,” Chase kissed my forehead. “You’re the miracle Noah needed, you know?”

“I think he was the miracle I needed as well,” I admitted.

READER

“Wow, Dallas. You are all such beautiful souls tonight. I cannot express our gratitude for all the support we’ve been getting this tour. We’re only four shows in and we’re having the best fucking time. Thank you,” I smiled into the microphone while tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind my ear.

The crowd cheered wildly as Chase pounded the foot pedal of his drum, the beat making my heart thump hard in my chest. It was night four of the tour and even though it was straight show after show and I was exhausted, I let the energy from the crowd up me hype to finish tonight strong.

The support of this tour had been fucking outstanding. Every show was sold out and we even had to move our last show into a bigger arena due to high demand. The three of us were so unbelievably proud of the direction we were headed and we didn’t want to look back.

“Before we play our last song, I think we need to show our opener some love!” I said into the microphone.

The crowd clapped and screamed but I frowned while shifting my weight on one foot while shaking my head.

“That’s pretty weak. I want the fucking roof to blow off of here. Let’s hear it for nothing, nowhere!”

Chase and Malcolm played an in-sync beat as the crowd screamed, cheered, clapped, and jumped up and down.

“That’s better.” I nodded with a smile while adjusting my guitar. “Not many know this but I’m such a huge fan of nothing, nowhere so to be here touring with him has me fangirling pretty hard right now.”

I peered over to the side stage where Joe was leaning, watching our set with a smile. We met a few days ago and even though I did my best to keep my composure, I was a giddy girl on the inside. He and Malcolm had a lot in common which made them click almost immediately which made tour life easy for all of us.

“So,” I cleared my throat while staring back out toward the crowd. “Our final song is a new one and I’m so excited to perform it in front of all of you. Our new album White Noise will be released in a few months. It’s different than our first three but we promise that it’ll be worth it.”

As the crowd clapped and cheered, I smiled. “My friends, thank you. This song is called Eyelids.”

As we began the song over the loud cheers of excitement, I let my eyes flutter shut as yet again, memories of mine and Noah’s night flashed in my mind.

"Noah," I breathed while breaking apart from the kiss.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck to breathe me in. "Say it again."

I did, over and over like a mantra, as he left a mark on the skin of my neck while his hand switched to the other breast, mimicking his actions from before. The wetness that pooled between my legs was almost a new feeling, never been this turned on.

With one touch I could have sworn he entered my soul. As if my body was his key. He entered me and it fit, pun not intended. Not a thing of metal nor gold, Yet a sensation of love that came.

"I want to hear you," he left a gentle bit on the inside of my thigh

I used the small break-in lyrics to let out a deep breath, doing my best to remain centered so I could finish the rest of the song strong

Noah was in every aspect of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the song.

His fingertips, his eyes, his lips on every inch of skin, or the way Noah steadied our breaths. “Breathe through it with me.”

I did as he said, both of us breathing out my orgasm as our eyes locked intently with each other. I writhed against him, my arousal soaking the condom and parts of his hips. It was such a simple action but the way it set my body on fire intensified the aftershocks to something I'd never experienced. Noah stared down to the place where we met and with a noisy moan, he wrapped an arm tighter around me to pull me flush against his chest as his hips stilled for a second before he emptied himself inside the condom.

Through his sweet words and the resolution of my survival self to never let anyone else sit at my core. He was already there.

As the song ended and I thanked the crowd with a bow, I thought how relieved I was to discover my pure self. That this with Noah could be real love. There was no temptation to change because it was our real selves that bonded us. It is our real selves that each other loves.

That night, I walked away from him without listening to his pleas but now, we were different. We had grown together, for each other.

Tonight, I vowed then and there under the bright lights of this stage that I’d stay.

I would always stay with Noah.

“Kick ass show tonight, guys!” Joe cheered while giving us a round of high-fives.

I smirked while whipping out my phone. “Thanks, Joe! Give me a few minutes and we can head to karaoke.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Whose time zone is it tonight?”

“Mine” I smirked into my phone while I quickly typed out a message.

Me: I love you, mochi.

“Oh,” a hand with a rose tattoo waved in front of my face. “Who has you smiling like that?”

Playfully narrowing my eyes at Joe, I stuck out my tongue at him. “Someone is nosy.”

Just then a new message popped up and my heart fluttered when I saw Noah’s response. It was the same response for the last week but every time, my smile spread wide on my face.

Mochi 🍡: I love you too, angel.

When I went to put my phone back into my pocket, it vibrated with a new message, this time it was a video from Noah of Salem lying on a couch, one I hadn’t seen before.

“Salem, say hi to your mom. She misses you,” Noah’s voice came from the background.

I broke out in an even bigger smile and giggled when my cat did not move, didn't even bat an eye as Noah scratched behind his ears. But the music playing in the background suddenly caught my attention.

The lyrics sounded so familiar.

“Gave you way too many chances but it wasn't enough.”

I replayed the video a few more times to make sure.

“No way,” I muttered, not paying attention to the conversation behind me with Joe, Malcolm, and Chase.

I quickly sent a text to Noah.

Me: Hi Salem baby! Mom misses you! Also, I hear something in the background. Is it..?

Mochi 🍡: He’s napping. He had a long day of playing outside.

My brow peaked.

Me: You took him outside?

Mochi 🍡: Don’t worry, angel. We had him on a harness and leash. He loved laying in the sun on the back patio.

“Sweets, let’s go!” Chase called from behind. “The karaoke place closes in like an hour!”

I waved him off before texting Noah back.

Me: I trust you with him, Noah. But what’s that playing in the background of your video?

He responded with another video and when his face graced my screen, my heart jumped into my throat.

Fuck. Me.

Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait for you to hear the final version.

“Well, who’s that?”

Joe peered over my shoulder causing me to jump slightly while clutching the phone close to my chest.

“Geez, can’t a girl get some privacy?” I asked with flushed cheeks.

The image of Noah in that video played in my mind on a fucking loop and I suddenly did not want to go out with the guys tonight.

Joe raised a brow. “Oh, that’s him?”

Malcolm looked between Joe and me, noticing how red my face was. “What the hell did Noah send you?”

“No-nothing. Just a video of Salem,” I stammered at first but was quick to recover.

Chase’s mouth parted to speak but soon his eyes turned dark, jaw clenching as he stared past me.

“What’s wr-,” I didn’t get a chance to ask because an all too familiar voice crept deep into my bones, ripping me apart from the inside out.

“You still have that fucking cat?”

My heart sunk low to the depths of my stomach and I let my eyes flutter shut, all the breath leaving my lungs.

No. No. No. Please, not here. Not now.

“He can’t be,” I shook my head while keeping my eyes trained hard on Chase, doing my best to stay centered.

Do as Dr. Poulos says; deep breath in for three seconds, long breath out for four seconds.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Malcolm spat while stepping in front of me.

“I needed to come to check out the new Hollow Souls,” the deep voice chuckled darkly.

I didn’t miss the venom in his words.

But I never turned around, simply kept my gaze straight on Chase who still refused to look at me; his own hard gaze was trained on the man behind me. Joe noticed the sudden tension and rested a gentle hand on my elbow.

“Y/N?” His words were white noise.

I’m imagining this. He’s not here right now. There’s no way.

“You looked good on that stage, baby. Although, I bet you’d look even better in the back of it.”

No. No. No.

A sharp whistle. “I know you hear me.”

“What the hell are you doing here? Why are you here?” Chase’s voice was thick with anger.

The voice that I spent so many days in therapy talking about let out a low scoff.

“What? I came to see my protégé.”

Malcolm pushed me towards Joe. “Can you take her back to our bus? We’ll be there soon.”

I shook my head feverishly with tears brimming in my eyes, my back still to the one I refused to look at.

“No. It’s not worth it. Please guys,” I begged while Joe wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Please come with me.”

Chase’s eyes softened when he finally peered down at me. “It’ll be okay, sweets. We’re just going to talk; promise.”

“Come on,” Joe urged my frozen state a few steps.

Until that darkness pulled me back into the place I spent many days dragging myself out of.

“Oh, it seems as if you’re back to your old ways. Fucking the opening act, huh? How does good ‘ol Noah feel about that?” Trey did the jerking-off gesture at Noah’s name.

“FUCK YOU!” I screamed as I spun on my heels, Joe’s arm falling away from me. “Don’t you dare say his name. You haven’t earned the right to talk about him!”

Those cold eyes that I swore at one point I’d have a future with bore into my soul as he ran a hand through the curly locks on his head. Trey smirked wickedly at me.

“I should call him up. Better yet,” He stuck a cigarette on his lips. “Maybe I’ll send him the video I took of you two ogling each other while you were on stage.”

I took a step towards Trey but Malcolm held out his arm to stop me, only for me to push it away.

“Go ahead! You have absolutely no fucking idea what you’re talking about. We should have had you fucking blacklisted,” my upper lip curled, barring my teeth.

“Good luck, baby. My name gets me places, I can’t help it. Plus, I needed to come see my protege. Since I fucking made you,” Trey twirled his hand towards me with a snide smirk.

“MADE ME?!” My eyes doubled as my voice roared through the dwindling venue as fans slowly took their time leaving.

The stagehands and crew members paused their work to watch my outburst.

I took a deep breath to center myself again, not wanting to create a scene right now when there were still so many prying eyes. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show. We’re doing fine without you.”

Turning my back to him yet again, I allowed Joe to lead me away with a hand ghosting over my lower back; until Trey’s voice stopped me.

“You’re so broken you don’t even trust yourself.”

“Y/N,” Joe’s voice was soft as he shook his head. “It’s not worth it. Come-.”

“Excuse me?!” I turned swiftly on my heels, hair whipping over my shoulder.

Trey shrugged while reaching for a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You heard me.”

I smacked his hand away, the noise echoing loudly backstage. “No. No, I don’t think I did. Say it again.”

“You’re broken.” Now his hands were in his pocket, a lit cigarette hanging loosely on his lips. “That uh- that new song? That's about him, isn’t it? Where is he?”

Trey made a show of looking around backstage. “I don’t see him anywhere. Oh, let me guess. You demolished it right? ‘Cause we all know you can’t have a perfect thing without doing that.”

My hands curled at my side, knuckles turning white from how hard my nails dug crescent moon shapes into my palm.

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Trey! You never did and you don’t know a fucking thing about Noah, okay?”

“I don’t need to. I know enough,” Trey blew the smoke towards Malcolm.

Before he could take a step towards him, Chase wrapped an arm around his chest to pull him away.

“You know he has asthma, you piece of shit!” I pushed Trey hard in the chest. “No. No! No! You’re not going to do this.”

“Do what? We both get off on hurting other people,” Trey snickered while taking a step toward me. “I tell you the fucking truth. You’re on the stage singing your pretty little lullabies and maladaptive daydreams because I let you! And you know what else? That little Sykes wanna be?”

When he made the gesture of sucking a dick, I nearly gagged in my mouth at how disgusting and vulgar Trey actually was.

Anger filled my veins as he continued to spew his venom. Every single thing Trey said was meant for one thing; to hurt and destroy. He’d spent years perfecting it and before, I’d swim in it.

Now? Now I was different and I wasn’t afraid of standing up to him.

“No! Shut the fuck up!” I ran a wild hand through my hair before pointing a finger at him. “You were such a poison that I should have avoided. Every single part of you. I thought you wanted to save me but in the end, all you did was break me!”

Tears fell from my eyes and I was quick to wipe them away. I refused to cry in front of everyone; especially Trey. He didn’t get the privilege to break me. Not again.

“How dare you reach out your hand? You said you loved me but acted like you hated me,” I choked on a sob. “I should have run but I didn’t.”

Trey flicked the ashes on the ground at my feet with a fake pout on his lips but before he could say anything I pointed another finger into his chest causing him to stumble back.

“No! I have to get this off my chest! There’s more shit I have to say!”

I could feel the proud smiles of Chase, Malcolm, and even Joe as they all flanked behind me. Not stepping in but still wanting to be close in case they needed to.

“You’re not half the man you think you are! You’re not! You’re abusive, an addict, and I hated the way you would make me feel. Everything I did was under a constant microscope with you.”

I began to list things on my fingers. “I couldn’t dress the way I wanted. I couldn’t talk to who I wanted. I couldn’t even fucking talk about things that I enjoyed because if it didn’t involve you, it wasn’t important. In the beginning, you needed to know my every single fucking move. But the one night you went out with your friends and I asked where you were going, you thought it would be funny to choke me!”

“What the fuck?!” Chase roared while stepping up next to me.

I placed a hand on his chest but kept my eyes on Trey. “I’ve outgrown you, I fell out of every trace of love and respect for you, Trey. I’ve moved fucking past you. Yes, in the beginning, I thought that maybe there might have been a chance for us. But you found yourself on drugs and nicotine. A hollow body like a figurine and I always felt like an accessory.”

Joe turned his head towards me with a small smile on his lips.

“Looking back now, I can see it. You always tried to put me in the background. I wasted so much fucking time on you and you wasted so much Hollow Souls time. You held us back for so long because you thought you knew what was best for us.”

A muscle in Trey’s jaw ticked. “I fucking made you. I made this band.”

I rolled my eyes while crossing my arms over my chest. “Oh, please. Everyone knows that Hollow Souls was my idea. I was the one who asked Chase and Malcolm to join. I wrote the songs. I wanted to produce our songs but you immediately shot that idea down claiming it was too much work and not worth it.”

Thankfully, it was long after our show ended and the main part of the venue had cleared out but there were still workers backstage as they tore down our equipment. They acted like they weren’t listening to our fight but I knew that with the glances our way every so often, they heard everything.

“You always wanted to change shit that didn’t need to be changed,” he snarled.

I held my arms out wide. “And look where I’m at? Every show on this tour is sold out. We had to upgrade to a bigger venue because of high demand.”

“What?” Trey tossed his cigarette to the ground. “Do you want a fucking medal for that?”

I stepped on the bud of the cigarette, stepping right up into Trey’s space. “You fucked with my head knowing that I couldn't take it and for that, I can't forgive you. I’ll never forgive you.”

Chase waved over security as my final words relieved the weight that I didn’t know was on my shoulders. I thought that the last time I saw Trey I wouldn’t need to say my peace but saying it now, I felt as if I could breathe easier.

“I don’t need you to forgive me, Y/N.” He scoffed. “Noah will never love you and that you won’t blame me for.”

My lips twitched in a smile as I breathed through the last of my stray tears. “You’re wrong, Trey. He does love me, and I love him. You won’t disturb my peace anymore, never again. I’m moving on, and I’m happy. You should be sad, and truly I feel sorry for you.”

I took a step back to stand in between Chase and Malcolm just as security snuck up behind Trey.

“I hope you choke in your sleep while you're dreaming of me. I fucking hope when you suffocate in your sheets that I'll be the last thing you see. Goodbye, Trey,”

My hands shook at my side, something that Joe noticed so he gave them a reassuring squeeze.

One of the security guards grasped Trey’s elbow to drag him out but he ripped it from the guy's grasp. Trey eyed all four of us, his gaze lingering on me a few seconds longer than the others before he spat on the ground at my feet.

The old me would have let that bother her. But the new me simply smirked as I watched security escort Trey out of the building.

Ethan came up to us in haste as he looked back towards Trey. “What the fuck was he doing here?!”

Malcolm made sure that Trey was out of sight then turned towards Ethan, pointing a stern finger at him. “Do whatever you can to get that piece of shit blacklisted from any Hollow Souls shows in the future.”

“Bad Omens too,” I nodded firmly.

Chase cupped my cheek. “Sweet, are you alright?”

Through tears, I nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.”

“How do you feel?” He had a faint smile on his lips.

I gnawed on my bottom lip, really thinking about Chase’s question.

Relief.

This felt like a new wave of freedom. Something I’ve yet to experience in a long while. A new form.

I looked back at my new friend and then at my brothers; my family. Those who bring a sense of love into my life. We can make choices to care for the self and still be kind. I had so much to say to him. It felt good to release it- yet; still I killed him with kindness. Something he’d never dare show me.

You can care better for others from strength than weakness.

At the expense of my own comfort. It’s a prudence with integrity that awaits the right moment to be brave. I felt brave.

I was ready for my new beginnings.

Joe motioned behind me. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your bus.”

While Malcolm and Chase hung back to talk more with Ethan about what happened I allowed Joe to lead me outside. The cool night air danced around me with a comforting touch and I let it ease my heated skin. As I made the walk towards where the bus was, Joe had other plans and dragged me to a bench at the back of the venue.

“What?” I asked.

“Sit.” When I didn’t move, Joe nodded to the bench behind me. “Sit down, Y/N. Take a breather. I can see the rage in your eyes and the vein in your neck is doing a weird twitch thing.”

Instinctively, my hand went to my neck, rubbing at it, before sitting on the bench with a long breath; Joe doing the same.

We let a long beat of silence fall between us and with the sudden breeze of cold air, I shivered and covered my bare arms suddenly wishing I didn’t wear the dress with skinny straps.

“Cold?” Joe wondered.

When I nodded, he handed over his jacket which I took gratefully. “I’ll make sure to give it back to you.”

“Good,” he snorted playfully. “Because it’s my favorite.”

I chuckled while easing onto the bench, now warm. “About what happened inside with Trey-.”

Joe bumped his shoulder with mine. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ve been through something similar. I did love how you threw in lyrics from Clarity in Kerosene. ”

I rubbed my hands on my thighs, suddenly nervous. “Uh, yeah. Your album Reaper means a lot to me so it felt therapeutic in a way.”

We sat for another long while, enjoying the quiet that shocked us for being in the middle of the city. It was in the middle of the night but neither of us was complaining.

“It’s an honor doing this tour with you, Joe. I’ve been a fan for so long.” I smiled at him.

“Hey, the honor is all mine,” he ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile. “Hollow Souls has been on my playlist for a long time.”

A familiar memory of long ago crept into my mind of someone saying the same thing.

“We're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows.”

“Ya know, someone else told me the same thing the first time I met him,” I said with a warm smile.

Joe’s brow peaked. “Yeah? Seems like I’ll have to meet this someone.”

Noah flashed in my mind now; his infectious smile, his bright almond eyes, and the sound of his laughter made my heart flutter. Even though he was hundreds of miles away, our souls were always connected. It was as if he was sitting right here with me. I could feel the ghost of his hand on my thigh and his lips on mine.

“I love you, angel,” those eyes glimmered as he watched me.

“Hm,” I hummed while bumping my shoulder with Joe’s again. “Maybe someday.”

READER

As I stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying my long locks, I sighed in content and made work of getting ready. It was an off day but I had no plans, something I intended to keep so much so that I was dressed in a pair of Bad Omens joggers and a black crop top tank. My typical stay-home outfit.

Just when I was about to load up my laptop to continue writing, there was a persistent knock on my hotel room door. It wasn’t Chase or Malcolm since they mentioned to me earlier that they were spending the day doing a joint interview and then getting something to eat.

Some would think it was weird that I wasn’t going to an interview with them but Hollow Souls were all for doing our own separate interviews or joint. I did my fair share of solo ones, the same with Chase and Malcolm. I actually had one planned in a few days so I wasn’t too upset about skipping out on this one today.

“Joe?” I asked while leaning against the open door. “What’s up?”

He smiled while giving me a once-over. “Good, you’re dressed. Grab your things and let’s go.”

“Go where?” My brows furrowed.

“We’re not going to waste the day away inside. I have our whole afternoon planned,” Joe adjusted his hat.

“You do, huh?” I chuckled while leaving him on the threshold of the open door so I could grab my things, not wanting to forget the small camera I brought along for this tour, and slipped on a pair of white Converse.

With the door closed behind me, I let Joe lead me toward the elevator where we waited for it.

“There’s this sunflower field I was thinking we could check out,” Joe said.

“That sounds nice,” I smiled while we both stepped into the elevator.

“Hilary sent it to me this morning and said it would be a great place to clear your head with what happened last night,” he informed.

“Did you tell her-?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek as the elevator descended.

Joe quickly shook his head. “Nope. I only mentioned how you needed to clear your head.”

“Thank you,” I breathed when the doors opened.

For the next few hours, Joe and I enjoyed the peacefulness of the sunflower field. We laughed, we joked, and he told me about his life growing up as I did the same. He also told me about an ex of his that messed him up mentally causing him to hide away for a year.

“I had to cancel shows because the depression and panic attacks were so bad I had to seek treatment,” Joe said as we neared the end of the sunflower maze. “I went to hospitals, sat with monks in Buddhist temples, and went to therapy. I was so mad that someone took years out of my life.”

I smiled solemnly. “I understand what that’s like.”

“Therapy told me that I need to stop hating the world and hating myself. I found someone who showed me what love is and I’ll forever be grateful for her,” Joe said.

“She sounds like a lovely person, Joe. I’m glad you were able to find your happy ending.”

We came to a stop in front of a large patch of sunflowers with him a few spaces in front of me.

“Hey,” I called after him, beckoning him to turn around so I could take a picture of him.

His black hood was pulled over his hat and a small bag crossed over his chest. Although he didn’t smile on his lips, I could see it in his eyes.

“It seems like you found your own happy ending,” Joe noted.

My cheeks burned as I waved him off. “Oh, no. Not yet. We’re not official.”

“But you text each other every night at 10 o'clock to say I love you?”

“It’s-,” I pursed my lips while looking around the field. “Complicated”.

Being in an open field like this, the breeze blowing through my hair, made me remember the last time I was in a place of solace like this.

Earlier that day.

"Noah?" I asked while looking up at him through lashes.

"Yes, angel?"

"You have a cute nose," my voice was quiet.

Noah tilted his head to the side. "My nose?"

"Yeah. It's just the perfect size for your facial structure," I booped his nose.

"Did-did you just boop my nose?" Noah chuckled with a scrunched face.

"See!" I pointed to him. "You look so fucking cute; it's insane."

"Angel, literally.”

"Mochi, literally," I mocked while sticking out my tongue.

Joe’s soft voice brought me out of the memory and I blinked at me. “Hm, I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“Do you want to be with Noah?” He asked his question again while gripping the strap of his bag.

“More than anything,” I answered without missing a beat.

He shrugged. “Then what’s holding you back?”

I licked my lips while shifting on my feet. “It’s not as easy as you think. After that party, so much happened and things were said that I can’t exactly forget. I was hurt and needed time away.”

“So you just left?”

Hearing the reality of what I did from someone else made the guilt eat away at my insides and my heart sunk low.

“I needed to get my head together,” I defended while adjusting the black beanie on my head.

“Do you guys even talk? Besides the usual 10 p.m. texts?” Joe asked.

Not wanting to speak, I shook my head with a long breath.

“Y/N, this might not be my place, but that wasn’t very fair of you to do that.”

I bit my lip, not trying to snap at Joe because all he was doing was being a good friend; something I needed.

“My therapy session is tomorrow. I didn’t need it today,” I sighed while running my hands up and down my thighs.

“My friend, you do,” Joe snorted. “Why are you so afraid of committing to this?”

I played with the string of my joggers, really mewling over his question. Noah and I moved past all the bullshit and we’re ready to finally be together. So what was I so afraid of?

With a wobbly lip, I let out a shaky breath and met Joe’s eyes. “I just don’t want to disappoint him, I don’t want him to ever feel like I don’t support him or something.”

He squeezed my arm. “I don’t think you can. If you’re both more than aware that you’re human beings, Y/N.”

“Understandable,” I nodded. “But I don’t want him to know how flawed I can be.”

“It’s vital to face hard facts and choose to be present, honest, and mindful of what’s happening in the life of your relationship. You guys aren’t even official yet and you’re worrying about shit that you don’t need to.”

Birds chirping were muted by the sudden commotion of a group of people arriving at the sunflower patch but neither Joe nor I moved from the end of the maze we finished a while ago.

“You’re not robots, Y/N.” He began. “Erase any confusion or doubt surrounding your needs so you can learn to powerfully communicate your needs. You both need to talk. Get it out of yourselves, don’t curl up with shit alone. Don’t do that to him. Don’t assume the worst about him, especially when you haven’t even discussed things properly.”

I crossed my arms over my chest while shifting all of my weight to one foot. “I never even noticed. In hindsight, I thought I was doing something validating. Turns out I hurt him numerous times, and he still did nothing but try to love me. Even when I wasn’t perfect. I left him alone in that hotel room because things became to real. I left him the night of the party because we both admitted we love each other. And I do. I love him, Joe. I love him so much. I want us to work. But I don’t understand why I keep leaving him. I don’t want it; I just do.”

Joe gave me a warm smile. “I know, Y/N. You should talk to your therapist about this. I think she can give you more insight than I can offer but just know I understand. You need to approach Noah and this relationship with a loving spirit, believing that he will love you and we want to satisfy you in every way. That he is deserving of your love and kindness even if things feel too good to be true. Feel it out, you’re probably that good of a fit.”

I playfully rolled my eyes. “Joe, I don’t need another therapist.”

He snorted. “No, you don’t, but I’d like to think I’m your friend and I’m telling you, that doing this to someone you love isn’t fair. Noah deserves to communicate with you too. I haven’t met the guy or seen the two of you together but from what you told me I already know. He fucking loves you, Y/N.”

“I love him too, so fucking much, okay? I do,” I admitted with tears in my eyes.

“I’m not saying you don’t/. I don’t know everything but, from my experience and what I’ve learned, shit like this can ruin a perfectly good relationship because we simply don’t tell ourselves the truth.”

I cocked my head to the side confused. “Truth about what?”

“About why you’re subconsciously running,” Joe said. “You’re scared shitless and this avoidance can lead to procrastination that delays dealing with damaging stressors on or within your relationship. It did until the pipe finally burst at the birthday party.”

“Should I be paying you by the hour?” I joked with a small chuckle.

“If you want to,” he snorts. “No, but come on. If you want him to be there for you, to be your everything, then you have to give half as well.”

“I know. I want to. I’ve been feeling so sick lately without him.”

It was true.

Noah and I seemed to have been brought together by this unknown force. The universe? Maybe: we didn’t believe in high powers, yet also knew we weren’t alone.

Staggered over weeks, months, or years. In this time the pain of our separation was an act as a focusing lens. The point was to give each other time to see the purity of our love, to be sure that there can be only one lover for this lifetime.

Seems silly, especially in this era. Yet, it’s how I feel. I just know.

I get almost neurotic to my knees. I know that I must get enough sleep. He made a sham of my pain. I feel like I blew a hole in my heart with an ice-cold magnum.

Why, when he’s not around I feel lonely when there’s company around. I’m not lost, but I have been found. That level of emotional indifference is not a mark of superiority, but the reverse. I was always worth more, I just needed to educate myself as to how and why.

It hit me. My body yearned for the other half of me. The lovers who are right for one another take away the other pain naturally, by virtue of who they are the strength of their loving bond.

I couldn’t wait to embrace him again.

Joe peered over his shoulder, noticing a group of people slowly reaching us so he motioned for me to start walking in step with him. “Of course you do. It’s like half of your entire body is ripped apart and begging for the other half back.”

I smacked his arm. “Yes, exactly like that! Even though we’re far apart from each other right now, I still know subconsciously what he’s doing without actually knowing.”

“Exactly. So you two need to talk together about what you’re facing. Discuss the realities and your key concerns. Listen to each other and reflect on what you hear for optimal understanding. Be curious and open-minded concerning each other’s ideas and solutions for relief and change. If you love him, meet him in the middle like you’re saying in the song, Y/N. Don’t just use words, act too.”

We reached the rental car and Joe leaned against the driver's door. “What do you want this song to do; to say?”

My forehead creased as I put deep thought into Joe’s question. “I think I want to expose the vulnerability. I’m kind of like star light. Maybe it can guide the way to the ones who must travel by night. The ones who don’t know that there is something special waiting for you if you keep pushing forward.”

Joe bumped his fist with mine. “I love that, a reminder for people. However, it’s not just about that.”

“No, no it isn’t,” I chuckled. “It’s special that we aren't so different, him and I. Somehow together we are balanced. As yin and yang, but a perfect match. All I want is for him to ask me to stay again, and I’ll always say yes.”

JOE

The conversation between Malcolm and Chase was muted as we sat at the hotel restaurant, my food going cold a while ago. After my afternoon with Y/N at the sunflower field with our conversation and everything that happened last night, something was weighing heavy on my mind.

Malcolm must have sensed it because he waved a hand in front of my face. “Everything alright?”

My eyes snapped up towards him and I nodded. “Oh yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m just reflecting on that whole interaction last night.

Chase hummed while resting an arm over the back of Malcolm’s chair. “We’re sorry Trey pulled you in the middle of it.”

“It’s fine but he’s a fucking piece of work,” I said.

Malcolm took a long drink of his beer. “Yeah. He’s always been a piece of shit. It was like that for fucking years. Trey tried to dictate everything she did. What the band did. He was off doing what he wanted when he wanted. Y/N would fall into it time after time until-.”

“Til Noah?” I asked with a hint of a smile.

“Yeah,” Chase spoke next. “Have you ever heard of Bad Omens?”

“I’ve heard their name and listened to a couple of their songs. But I’ve never seen his face until recently,” I said.

“Did he send her a dirty photo?!” Malcolm’s eyes widened.

“No!” I shook my head with a chuckle. “Y/N showed me a picture of him in braids.”

“Oh, that picture,” Chase snorted.

I continued again. “Noah has a great range and a good ear; talented guy. He seems crazy about Y/N from what she said.”

“Oh, he is. Shit, he’s over the fucking moon and back and everything fucking else. They have some otherworldly shit going on.”

“Oh yeah? Think so?” I asked Malcolm.

He shared a look with Chase, both of them smiling. “We know so. Noah made her fucking smile again. Laugh in a way we hadn’t heard in so long. He gave her confidence when she desperately needed it. Y/N became herself again. It’s been so beautiful to watch her hatch from the sick cocoon she was in. Last night was a terrific example. We’re so proud of her.”

“Yeah, that was something; the way she stood up to him. She kicked his ass. I may not have been around or anything for long, but that was awesome to see. I’d like to talk to Noah about it.”

Chase and Malcolm shared yet another look, the former's brows raised as he looked at me.

“You want Noah’s number? That’s a bit random, no?”

“I just want to formally introduce myself,” I assured them. “To let him know how Y/N was last night and how awesome your record is.”

“Is that all you want to let him know? Or do you want to make sure Noah knows that you’re not a threat? Because he knows you aren’t. And he also knows that Trey hasn’t come near her,” Malcolm reassured me.

“No, it’s not even about that,” I leaned forward on the table to rest my arms on it. “I want to keep him in the loop, I have a feeling they’re still working out this what do I say or not say phase. Y/N’s become a friend now, and I’d like to also reach out my hand so he knows things are cool on our end.”

I shrugged. “Plus, Noah deserves to know how badass she is and that she can take care of herself.”

After dinner, on my way back up to my hotel room, I had my phone in my hand as I worked out the message to Noah.

Me: Hey Noah, this is Joe. I got your number from Chase and Malcolm. This is a little awkward but I wanted to introduce myself. I’ve actually listened to your band- you’re really talented! The acoustic version of If I’m There was killer, seriously.

Now in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed to send another text.

Me: I’m texting you because I’m sure you saw the video of what happened with Trey and Y/N. I will firstly say, she’s fucking awesome! And I’m honored to be on this tour with her and the guys. Incredible musicians and incredible people. Gearing back to the whole Trey situation, he showed up out of nowhere; but I feel it’s important to let you know, at least from my side, that Y/N kicked ass. She stood up for herself and I could see she felt a world of relief.

Only a few minutes went by when Noah texted back.

Noah Sebastian: Hey Joe, it’s Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you as well. Y/N has been a huge fan of yours for a long time. She was stoked about this tour, and yes she is awesome. Y/N’s special to a lot of us. She’s a genuine person and has a heart of gold; Chase and Malcolm as well. I appreciate your kind words. That means a lot. You know how it is- especially in this industry. And I did see the video, unfortunately. You were there?

I quickly responded to Hilary’s text before typing out my reply to Noah.

Me: In case she needed support.

Noah Sebastian: Right, thank you for that. I hated what Trey said, I wish I could have stopped it myself but I also know how important it was for Y/N to have closure. I’m so fucking proud of her.

I let out a loud laugh when I saw the meme Y/N sent me but swiped away the message for right now, continuing to text Noah.

Me: You should be proud. She’s awesome and she’s over the moon about you. From what I’m told you really lit a fire inside her, and that seems to be shining through. My partner did that for me when I found her and I’m sure it’s the same for you as well. So I just wanted to pass this along and formally introduce myself. I’m sure Y/N will bring this up to you but I wanted to show you how I saw it on my end. I hope we can meet soon.

Me: Oh, also. Hollow Souls new record is going to be sick. What they’ve been working on is sounding great.

I busied myself the next long while getting myself packed since we were planning on leaving in a few hours to head to the next city. Once finished, I realized that Noah texted me back almost instantly after I sent the last text.

Noah Sebastian: For sure! Thank you so much. I wish I could be there. But, I understand it’s not the right time. I do hope soon we can chill at my place to shoot the shit. Thank you again for sending me a text. Very kind of you and I’m sure we’ll talk soon. I can’t wait to hear her new album. We’re all very stoked about it. We’re also close to releasing our record, I’d love for you to check it out!

Me: Hell yes!

READER

“And if you and I can make it through the night,” I hummed while sitting in my bunk on the tour bus.

My laptop was perched in my lap as I loaded up Zoom, clicking on Dr. Poulos’ contact. It wasn’t our usual appointment day or time but with what happened the other day, I felt as if I needed an emergency session. It wasn’t because of the negative parts but for the first time in a long while, I felt good. My spirits were high and nothing could wipe the smile from my face.

“Well someone seems like they’re in good spirits today.” Dr. Poulos’ voice sang through my speakers.

Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she had black glasses perched high on her nose.

“I am actually,” I smiled, the kind of smile that made the corner of your eyes crinkle.

She tilted her head. “Care to elaborate?”

I began telling her the entire story of Trey and my afternoon with Joe from top to bottom; from that night up until now.

“I’m very proud of you, Y/N for standing up for yourself and closing that chapter in your life. And Joe seems like he’s becoming a great friend in the aspect of telling you things you need to hear.”

“Yeah, he is.” I nodded.

Although I was in high spirits before this meeting, something shifted in my brain and I began to stare at the keyboard of my laptop.

“What’s the matter Y/N? You’re slipping into disassociating thought,” Dr. Poulos’ voice brought me back.

“Nothing,” I had a tight lip smile.

“Y/N,” she warned. “We’ve talked about this; you need to be open and transparent.”

Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh. “Okay, well-.”

When she motioned me on with a nod, I continued. “How- fuck this is embarrassing. How do I stop running away?”

“Do you grasp that’s what you’ve been doing to Noah?”

“I do,” I admitted. “But it hasn’t been intentional. I love him, I’m- I just don’t want to become my parents.”

Dr. Poulos’ gave me a small smile. “It’s great that you’re seeking to address this pattern. Building healthy relationships often involves understanding and addressing the root causes of our behaviors.”

“I’m trying.”

“It might be helpful to reflect on past experiences and identify any underlying fears or insecurities that may be contributing to your tendency to run away from relationships,” she adjusted her glasses.

“I know it’s my mother, I know it is. Noah seemed to know it too since he was there that day she reamed into me,” I said.

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, I remember that day. You were very grateful for him being there weren’t you?”

“More than anything. He’s my safety when I feel like I have none,” I answered.

“That’s wonderful Y/N. In Addition, I suggest practicing self-care, setting boundaries, and communicating openly with Noah as your partner, rather than your friend, which can help build a foundation for more fulfilling and lasting connections. I remember you telling me you finally admitted your love for each other,” Dr. Poulos couldn’t hold back the wide smile on her face now.

“Yes. I do, I do love him and I don’t want to do anything to hurt him. Noah’s already so hard on himself with everything. I don’t want to be one more thing he’s hard on himself about. I want to help, be his escape, and his safe haven. I want him to trust I’ll stay because I want to; I will always stay.”

She wrote something down in her journal before resting her chin in her hand as she looked back at me through her screen. “I know, Y/N. You’ve spoken about this often. Seeking support in this form can also provide valuable insights and strategies for breaking this pattern. I believe the two of you can and you won’t run.”

I ran a hand through my hair, the length becoming a big annoyance lately. “You know so much about this, Dr. Poulos. I don’t know the first thing. I want to be able to communicate with him. Not do what I have been doing.”

“Y/N, it’s normal. It’s critical that before you speak to Noah, you suspend any assumptions or conclusions that put you at odds with him. You absolutely need to approach him by making a generous assumption; and by giving him the benefit of the doubt. This is what it means to be a team, even when you’re feeling distant. You keep loving even when you are feeling as if you are unloveable. You’re not going to do what you did with Trey.”

“Trey.”

His name still tasted bitter on my tongue.

“Yes,” Dr. Poulos nodded. “You got your closure on that chapter. Now this is a new one.

“I can’t shake the fear sometimes. The fear of the feeling coming at me all at once and messing it up,” I shifted in my bunk.

“What I suggest doing when you are feeling upset or angry is to own your emotions and realize that they stem from your interpretation of the situation, not from the facts of the situation. Your fears and deep-seated beliefs about your own sense of inadequacy, unworthiness, or unlovability often lie at the root of all those negative stories you tell yourself about why life is happening the way that it is.”

“Woah,” I blinked. “That’s-uh-a great observation.”

Dr. Poulos narrowed her eyes at me while steepling her fingers under her chin. “I have an assignment for you.”

“Oh, come on! You know how busy I already am,” I joked with a wave of my hand.

She let out a soft giggle. “Yes, well, this will be fairly simple.”

“Take a moment to challenge your assumptions, and allow the possibility that something completely different could be true. Like that, you are loved! And that with patience and respectful communication, you can experience something exceptional with Noah. You said his album is coming out soon, this party could be a great way to try this. Have you thought about going?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said without missing a beat.

“Wonderful Y/N, see this as an opportunity to vulnerably share something about yourself with Noah, be curious so that you, through this experience, can learn something with him, too.”

I’d be the first one to admit that at first, therapy wasn’t something I thought I needed. It was a waste of time to talk about my feelings with someone who didn’t understand. But right now, I was eating my words.

“Joe was right,” I said after a few beats of silence.

“About?” Dr. Poulos shook her head with confusion.

“Discussing this further with you, thank you it helps,” I ended our session with a large smile.

READER

“Not to be overly dramatic. I just think it's best. 'Cause you can't miss what you forget.” Joe sang into the microphone.

I sat in my spot on the couch in the interview space, watching and singing along with a bright smile.

“So, let's just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant,” he finished the song with a long breath.

I, along with the interviewer, Jackson, clapped as Joe took a seat next to me on the couch.

“That was phenomenal. We appreciate you being here with us,” Jackson beamed.

My phone buzzed in my lap and with a glance downward, I felt my face warm at the name.

Mochi 🍡: You look phenomenal, angel.

“Thank you,” Joe nodded with a faint smile. “I’m sure I can speak for Y/N that we’re both glad to be here.”

“It seems like the tour is going pretty well. Every show is sold out. How does that feel for you, Joe? I know Hollow Souls are used to this feeling,” Jackson said while fixing his notes, not looking at me.

I tilted my head to the side, tongue brushing over my bottom lip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He finally looked my way and shrugged. “It's just that Hollow Souls is already pretty popular. You guys are used to playing in front of a sold-out crowd.”

“Are you saying that nothing, nowhere isn’t? Or did you forget that his last headlining tour had three back-to-back sold-out shows?” I questioned with a raised brow.

“Well,” Jackson shifted in his chair across from us and looked at Joe.

He merely ran a hand through his hair. “Number one fan.”

“So,” Jackson cleared his throat. “Everyone online is begging me to ask you two this but what’s the dating situation? There’s so much chemistry between the two of you in the behind-the-scenes clips you guys post on Instagram. Everyone wants to know; are you two dating?”

Joe and I shared a look then I made a show of rolling my eyes while crossing my legs. “Just because a male and female artist tour together, doesn't mean they’re dating.”

My phone buzzed again but this time, I opened the message to read it fully.

Mochi 🍡: Tell him who’s boss, angel. You know who you belong to.

I cleared my throat while setting my phone screen down in my lap just in time for Joe to speak.

“No, no. I’m spoken for.”

Jackson looked at me. “Y/N?”

“That’s my name, yes. Do you have a question about Hollow Souls or the tour?” I said with slight venom in my voice.

Typically I didn’t mind interviews but every once in a while, I’d get an asshole of an interviewer that asked all the wrong kinds of questions.

“Video surfaced online that Trey was at the show a few nights ago and it looked like the two of you were having an intense conversation. Is there a chance he’s joining Hollow Souls again?”

My face twitched as something inside of me burned. I leaned towards Jackson with narrowed eyes.

“Here’s what we’re not going to do; we’re not gonna focus on my love life, or personal life. I make art, not headlines. I’m cool because I'm me, and my band is cool. The art is what’s the focus, not anything else. I do feel as if people need to understand that having a private life is my right. I don’t feel comfortable sharing every aspect. Like I said, I make art, not headlines.”

“That’s a bold statement to make. It comes with the whole fame territory,” Jackson tried to joke.

“I refuse to allow this time in my life to be touched, tainted, or bastardized by anyone,” I finished while crossing my arms over my chest.

While Jackson changed his direction and tone of questions towards Joe for the next couple of minutes, I bounced my knee as the anger continued to fest low in my gut until another text came in.

Mochi 🍡: Fuck I love when you put douchebags in their place. You’re so sexy, angel. Fuck. I’m going to think about you bossing me around all night.

A hot flash of arousal took over every inch of me as I shifted in my spot on the couch, clenching my thighs together to curb the itch that burned there.

“Everything alright?” Joe wondered when he saw the warmth on my cheeks.

I cleared my throat. “Yep. Totally fine.”

It would be so easy to call Noah to have our first phone sex but the thought of messing with him later sounded more fun.

“So, Y/N. I’d love to know what the future of Hollow Souls looks like?” Jackson questioned with a different tone.

“See? It’s not that hard to ask questions that actually matter,” I teased with a smile. “But I don’t think we found ourselves because we always knew we wanted this style and this direction but we never really had the confidence to do that.”

“With this record though, we finally have the assurance to know that we can make it work.”

“Is there inspiration behind this new album?” Jackson wondered.

“I've always been really inspired by dark things and the supernatural for some reason. Ghosts, paranormal stuff, death, anger, sadness.”

I gave pause when I realized that this wasn’t exactly a happy inspiration.

“Well, anything that’s not happy basically inspires me, which sounds kinda messed up,” I admit with a laugh.

“A lot of the new record, I wrote when I was having a really bad time mentally. I don’t like calling it depression but it seemed like that and I couldn’t pinpoint what my issues were, or what was wrong with me but I knew there was something wrong.”

Joe watched with a proud smile and I knew that there were a few others back home watching with their own proud smile; my heart could feel it.

“My problems weren’t tangible things, they weren’t things I could see or explain to people so in a way it was like they were ghosts or spirits that were haunting me,” I continued.

Jackson rubbed his chin. “Why do you think that is?”

I pursed my lips, thinking about my answer deeply. “I think a lot of people are afraid to put it out there and talk about it but we weren’t. I think that might be a big reason people have connected to the songs that have been released so far. I feel like for anyone who’s sharing feelings of topics like that, it’s a little bit scary but I feel it's more therapeutic and cathartic to write about that stuff, to talk about that stuff and put it out there. You feel better about it. To know that other people can connect to that makes you feel even better. As scary as it at first, it eventually just pays off and turns out to be good in the end.”

“Why do you think people can relate to it?”

I shrugged. “I guess because our new album is pretty raw and honest. There’s a lot of topics people can relate to and I think it sounds pretty great, if I do say so myself. We’re pretty proud of it.”

Jackson leaned into his chair. “I would like to jump back to the haunting aspect of this album. Can you elaborate on what exactly is haunting you, if you don’t mind.”

We’d be here all day if I did and frankly, it wasn’t his or anyone who was watching business.

“I’m becoming a very private person as of late so I don’t need to go into the personal aspects of my life. Just know I’m moving past things, and I’m very content. Dare I say happy with where the future will be.”

Jackson nodded. “Fair enough. Would you say you’re hopeful for what the future will bring?”

With a bright smile, I looked directly at the camera that had been pointed at us the entire time and winked.

“Oh yes, more than hopeful.”

Later on that night, when I was in the solace of the bathroom of the tour bus, I wore the skimpy red lace teddy I bought earlier. The necklace and bracelet glinted under the dim light as I extended my arm to take a variety of pictures; the sly smirk never leaving my lips.

With four different pictures attached, I quickly typed out a message to Noah right on the dot at 10 p.m.

Me: You were bold to text me earlier like that, mochi, I could barely contain myself. Here’s a little payback. Hope you’re all flustered and bothered, whatever you’re doing I suppose will have to wait. Dream of me. I love you.

Almost instantly, Noah texted back as I was swiftly changing into my pajamas for the evening. What I thought was one text became four right after the other.

Mochi 🍡: Matt’s right next to me, angel. What if he saw this?

Mochi 🍡: fuck, my dick is throbbing right now but I can’t do shit about it. Consider this my karma.

Mochi 🍡: I can’t stop staring at the picture. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Beautiful. A true definition of an angel.

Mochi 🍡: I’m going to call you in a little bit. I need to hear your voice. I need it.

Switching off the bathroom light, I walked across the narrow hallway to climb into my bunk and under the covers

Me: I’m going to bed early tonight. Maybe we can talk on the phone tomorrow. I love you.

By the time Noah responded, I was already in a peaceful, dark slumber.

Mochi 🍡: Fuck, I love you too angel. So fucking much.

READER

"Wait," Joe shook his head at us. "You guys do this after every tour?"

Malcolm nodded as he held the door open for all of us. "Every tour. It's become a Hollow Souls tradition."

As we all crowded into the small tattoo shop’s lobby, Joe's eyes brightened with the realization.

“Oh, so that's why you got the tattoo of the anime character on your ankle.”

"Yep, I smiled brightly. "Noah and I got them together on my birthday."

The buzzing was loud in the tattoo shop as I waved at the owner who had no problem staying open late for us tonight. We finished the tour strong tonight with a hype crowd and with the adrenaline still buzzing through us, we decided to get the tattoos as soon as we left the venue.

Joe shifted on his feet while running a hand through his hair. “You’re positive you want to get the Reaper album art tattooed?”

"This album helped me through some dark times in my life. I need to do it, especially with what happened last week. It’ll be a great way to remember a great tour and the new friend I made,” I answered while bumping his shoulder with mine.

After we all checked in and waited, Chase ruffled my hair. “It’s almost 10 p.m LA time, sweets.”

"Shit!" I cursed while quickly whipping out my phone from my pocket. "I can't believe I almost missed it!"

Me: I love you, Mochi. Last night of tour went off without a hitch. Currently getting our typical tattoos. I can’t wait to show you what I get.

I sat on the bed, exposing my left thigh to the artist after she laid down the stencil, and struck up a conversation with everyone as I waited for Noah to respond. Surprisingly, tonight it took him a long while to text back which made my mind wander to what he was up to. My heart didn’t ache and my stomach wasn’t filled with nerves which meant it wasn’t anything terrible.

After my risque picture I sent him the other day, we never had the chance to talk on the phone, but I knew that it still affected him because any chance he could, Noah would send me risque texts throughout the day.

“Thank fuck,” I breathed when my phone buzzed next to me.

Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait to see it, angel. Also, sorry it took me so long to respond. I may have taken Salem to the pet store to spoil him with a few things. I hope you know I plan on keeping him for a bit once you’re back home. Mal said you guys will be busy in the studio so no need for Salem to be home alone. I love you too, angel.

“I would ask who has you smiling like that but it’s pointless. There’s only one person who can do that,” Malcolm snorted while his artist wrapped up his tattoo.

I stuck out my tongue at him. “Noah told me he took Salem shopping.”

Chase rolled his eyes playfully. “And you say he’s not Salem’s dad yet.”

Before I could set my phone down, another message came through; one I read with a fast beating heart.

Nick R : February 23, 2022. 929 Angelus Street. Turn Right on Luna Ave. Overnight valet is already handled. No, Noah doesn’t know when to expect you. Don’t be late, Cinderella.

Nick R: The theme is red. I think you know why. Do with that what you will.

Oh shit, that was in just over two weeks. Which meant I needed a dress. And new shoes. A new hairstyle wouldn’t hurt either.

With a smile, I responded back to Nick.

Me: We will be there! Unlike Cinderella, I have no intention of losing my shoe and missing my Prince Charming.

Nick R: Oh good! We are merely the mice.

CHASE

I grumbled under my breath as I scrubbed out the fresh red paint out of the dining room carpet. How many times have I told her to put a damn drop down? Y/N’s lucky I know my way around cleaning supplies and know how to get a stain out.

Malcolm clicked his tongue against his teeth as he leaned against the wall, staring down at me as I continued to scrub on my hands and knees.

“I must say, I love this sight of you. On your knees.”

I snapped my eyes up at him. “Not fucking funny, Mal.”

“I think she’ll be really excited for what Noah has planned,” he noted.

“Oh she’s gonna lose it! In the best way,” I agreed while continuing to scrub.

“I think so too.” Malcolm placed a kiss on my lips before sauntering into the kitchen to get things ready for dinner. “How long do you think Y/N will be?”

“Not sure,” I ran a hand over my buzzed head then threw in the towel; literally.

“You know how she is when she’s let loose in the art supply store. I’d be shocked if she made it back before dinner,” I continued while hopping up on the counter.

Malcolm began setting out the variety of ingredients and I reached for my phone next to me.

Me: Noah, beware of paint all over the carpet.

Noah S: Already taken care of.

I showed Malcolm the text to which he smirked. “Did we expect anything less from him?”

Me: Good. Because even though I love her to the ends of the earth, paint is a fucking bitch to clean.

Malcolm handed me a beer, one I took with a kiss of thanks, and slowly nursed it as Noah texted me back.

Noah S: Here’s the address. I would love it if you and Malcolm come check it out.

Me: Definitely. Let's plan for Friday?

READER

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes locked on the things scattered all over the counter, I found myself dissociating into thoughts of earlier today when we were in the studio. We had one last song to record before we started the final touches but this song was the most important. It needed to be perfect.

I needed to be perfect.

Which is why

“Sweets you’ve gone over the verse we can meet in the middle at least ten times now. I think it’s good.”

Chase reassured me as I came out of the vocal booth with a scrunched up face. I did not like how my voice sounded which prompted me to do vocal take after vocal take.

I fell to the couch in between him and Malcolm. “I need this to be perfect. I hate how my voice is sounding. It can’t sound like this. It can’t.”

“It sounds amazing, Y/N! I promise,” Malcolm said.

“I just-,” I ran a hand through my long hair and groaned. “This is so important to me. I want him to know I’m here. And I’m not going to leave him.”

“Noah knows sweets, he knows. He’s so stoked for this record. You know he’ll love it.”

I tossed my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, exhausted with the length. I needed my neck to breathe. It felt as if I was suffocating under the weight of it.

“Fucking hormones,” I eventually chuckled while wiping tears from my eyes.

Malcolm gave me a weak smile while rubbing my back. “Any pain today?”

“A little but not much. It’s bearable.” I informed them.

Chase nodded while squeezing my knee. “Ok, if you need a break let us know. Don’t push yourself too much. You sound beautiful.”

Salem jumped on the counter, breaking me from my thoughts, and immediately I brought him up in my chest. His green eyes stared up at me in wonder and maybe a little bit of confusion with what he saw.

“Did you have fun with Noah?” I missed you so much,” I cooed.

Noah dropped him off while we were in the studio, us just missing each other by mere minutes.

My fingers scratched at Salem’s neck, now realizing the bright red collar and new tag.

“Oh, dad did in fact spoil you while I was gone. New collar, new tag, a bunch of new sushi toys. Not to mention the bed that can fit a 20 pound dog,” I chuckled.

My shoulders went rigid when I realized what I just said.

Dad.

I just called Noah Salem’s dad.

Swallowing thickly at the acceptance, I then looked at the new tag and felt my heart jump into my throat; heat spreading from the tips of my toes to my scalp.

Oh my heart.

Salem Sebastian-L/N.

And on the front of the tag were symbols I’d never seen before. “Huh, that's weird. What’s with the yin yang and eye symbol?”

Biting my lip, I set Salem down on the counter and picked up my phone instead, quickly dialing the number I had memorized so long ago.

Noah picked up after the second ring. “Hi, angel.”

I twirled a piece of fresh hair around my finger while leaning against the counter.

“Salem Sebastian-L/N huh?”

A quick beat of silence. “Yeah. Figured he needed a collar with his full name. I think he likes me, he was quite needy. Is that alright?”

“Definitely alright, mochi,” I smiled into the phone. “Do the symbols have any meaning?

“You’ll know soon, angel.”

“Okay then. Keep your secrets,” I groaned.

Noah’s infectious laughter made my stomach flip. “Will do, Frodo.”

“I think we are due for a Lord of the Rings marathon soon. You down?” I bit the inside of my cheek, hopeful for his answer.

“Always down, especially with you.”

I did my best to hide my excitement and was thankful Noah wasn’t here to see the way I jumped on the soles of my feet. “Wonderful.”

There was a long comfortable silence before his rich voice came through the speaker.

“I miss you. I love you.”

I played with my necklace. “I miss you too, Noah. I love you.”

“We’ll talk later?”

It was now him who had the hopeful tone.

“Always,” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“Okay.”

I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Goodnight mochi”.

“Good night angel.”

As I hung up the phone, Chase and Malcolm both popped their heads into the bathroom. They had an approving smile on their face.

“Does it look bad?” I asked self-consciously.

Malcolm was the first to speak. “It looks really good, sweets. We’re proud of you.”

“New Era coming, huh?” Chase asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “Yeah I think so. I’m ready for it.”

“Well good. Because we are too,” he knocked on the wall before the two of them disappeared in their bedroom.

Hooking up the blow dryer, I began to dry my now darker and shorter hair, humming along to a song that had been stuck in my head all day.

“I was lost but now I’m found.”

Salem jumped up onto the closed toilet seat, watching me with bright eyes.

“We’re not perfect but we’re proud of who we are,” my voice echoed in the confines of the bathroom.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

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