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#not from me anyway. not yet. but there’s something here i think
dazednmatthews · 15 hours
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don’t ever tell me to go away (from you) ~number neighbor!matt x reader part fifteen
i’m so sorry that this is like days late omfg. i haven’t forgot abt my promises to finish this or the last chris work i want to post!! ive just been so fucking busy it’s insane. i love u guys let’s get back to it fr (this is not the last part of number neighbor y’all)
“dumb. this is so dumb.” y/n says under her breath, restlessly pacing in front of matt’s door.
she’s been losing her mind out here for about twenty minutes, walking to her car then back to the front door and then all over again. she knows she looks fucking insane, but she can’t help it. the anxiety was tearing her stomach to shreds.
she hadn’t put much thought into it, really. after her conversation with daria, she was immediately met with a wave of determination. she showered, put on a presentable outfit and even brushed out her curls, which was a lot better than she’d done for herself the last seven days.
she hadn’t stopped to think about it until she was halfway here. she had matt’s address because of the one time she had a matching minions poster delivered (he hated it) and it had just lived in his contact file ever since. she knew that she had to talk to matt in person. one, because she knew that she would a hundred percent pussy out over the phone, and two, she knew he deserved that. at least.
thinking about it now though, y/n is shaking in her fucking boots at the thought of matt slamming the door in her face. or calling her a psychopath (derogatory) for showing up at his house unannounced. the only reason she even knew he was home was the car parked in the driveway.
in hindsight, maybe this was a bad idea. maybe it was too soon, or worse, she was too late. the thought has her spinning around in place, ready to beeline it back to her car for the last time.
because nothing ever works the way she plans though, she’s frozen in place by someone calling her name.
“y/n?” nick is baffled by the sight of the girl who’s had his brother losing his ever loving mind in his driveway. he has the car keys in hand, looking as if he was going to go search for something.
y/n gives a smile that probably looks like she’s being electrocuted. “hey, nick.”
he’s standing there absolutely dumbfounded, mouth slightly ajar. she’s never even been to their house, or met him and chris in person. it was awkward, because what is she supposed to say? “hey nick! don’t mind me, i’m just here to beg for your brother to talk to me again! nice weather, right?”
it was something close to her worst nightmare.
there’s another voice. “nick! what the fuck did we say about leaving the door wide open?”
chris comes out the house while looking at his phone. when he bumps into nick’s back, he looks up with a scowl. when his eyes shift to what nick is looking at, his jaw drops dramatically. “holy shit.”
y/n shifts on her feet uncomfortably. she feels like she’s in a zoo, being watched and marveled at. it’s strange, talking to them so much on the phone with matt yet standing in front of them for the first time in the middle of a fucked up situation.
“hey, chris.” she does a weird hand wave that makes her want to punch herself in the face. “um, is matt home?”
they just nod, still unmoving. chris speaks first. “his room is up the stairs to the left.”
she basically runs away from the scene, thanking them. she can hear nick whisper-yell to chris behind her. “this is fucking crazy!”
she bounds up the stairs hurriedly, not stopping to look around. she can feel herself panicking slightly, but before she knows it, she’s already at matt’s door and already knocking.
she can hear a muffled, “fuck off.” and a groan, but she knocks again anyway.
there’s a couple moments before he opens the door that y/n tries to slow her heartbeat. it works. for maybe three seconds. cause then matt is flinging open the door, irritation on his face and tight tank top resting on his top half. then her heart is nearly hitting him with how hard it’s beating out of her chest.
the irritation in his face drops when he realizes that it’s in fact not his brothers coming to annoy him for the seventh time that day. but y/n can’t decide if the look he wears now is any better. it’s blank and indifferent. like her presence is no longer something he’s affected by. and man, does that fucking suck.
she forces herself to speak. “hi, matt.”
he scans her face. “y/n.”
she shifts uncomfortably again, only this time the feeling is much worse. “can we talk?”
“you can’t just show up like this,” he says, using the same words she’d spoken to him a week ago. it makes her stomach twist in guilt. “it’s not fair.”
her palms are sweaty and she feels like she might throw up. it doesn’t help that his hair is messy and fluffy, just how she likes it. or that he’s wearing a different color variation of those stupid pajama pants. not to mention, there’s that fucking chain. her being is torn in half from being so insanely attracted to him and feeling so absurdly guilty.
“i’m sorry.” she offers, pleading look across her features.
matt runs his tongue over his top teeth. “for showing up unannounced or for ghosting me completely?”
“both.” her voice is low, scared that he’s about to slam the door in her face.
he must accept that answer though, because he widens his door, stepping aside for her to come in.
she does, and instantly shes hit with about a million different memories while looking around his room. all the countless hours on the phone; laughing and arguing, flirting and fake-bashing each other— it caused an ache in her she didn’t know how to soothe. she wanted to try though.
when she turns around, matt is leaning against his bedroom door, arms crossed. he’s not saying anything, which is fair, but it does nothing to quell the worry clouding her.
“how-“ she stops, stuttering slightly. “how are you?”
matt raises an eyebrow. “fine.” his eyes are guarded. “if you count out the fact that the only girl i’ve been talking to for like forever suddenly disappeared without a trace for reasons she won’t tell me.”
she deserved that. “damn.”
her eyes widen after that because that is so not what she meant to say. she’s a shaky, disoriented mess and the fact that matt looks completely uninterested in what she has to say isn’t helping at all.
“is there a point to this or did you just come here to stare at me?”
“yes to both,” she admits, rubbing at her face. she takes a deep breath, choosing to just jump in. she thinks about daria’s words and she goes for it. “i’m a fucking idiot. i’m sorry.”
he doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “i didn’t mean it. what i said last week. when we were texting and when you came to my house. of course i care. of course this is something to me.”
matt still looks unbothered. it makes y/n want to stop talking, to run out of here and never look back. but she knows that she has to keep going. she has never once in her life backed down from a fight, and she wouldn’t start now.
“i was… scared.” she says begrudgingly. you have to be open with yourself. “everything was moving so fast. by the time i realized i liked you, i was so fucking obsessed i could barely even think about anything else. it freaked me out; made me feel like i had more to lose than you did.”
matt kisses his teeth. “i told you multiple times that i liked you. wanted to talk to you all the time. wanted to see you all the time.” he pushes off the door, coming to stand in front of her. “every ounce of free time i had was filled with you. do you think i spend hours on the phone with just anyone?”
y/n’s eyes are trained on the floor. “it didn’t matter because it all felt like a joke. saying shit like that was just how we were. it felt okay because it was never super serious. but as soon as i actually realized how i felt, i freaked and pushed you away. and then when you texted me that you wanted to be official it felt too good to be true. like you were lying. or it was another joke that we would laugh about. so i completely shut you out. and i’m so fucking sorry for that.”
matt scratches at his beard, which is so grown out it was making her dizzy. his eyes are soft but hesitant and all y/n wants is to kiss away the doubt she created.
“i meant what i said,” he lifts her head with his hand, making her look at him. “the or something.”
she knows exactly what he means. the blush that burns beneath her skin could light a fire. the second their eyes connected it felt like the world fell away. she wants to capture this feeling and tuck it away for any bad day after this. this feeling that matt gave her of iridescence. like she could shine in the darkest room. like she was something worth looking at. something worth really seeing.
the words are at the base of her throat, fighting to get out. she wants to tell him exactly how she feels but it’s still fucking stuck.
“just or something?” she baits, leaning into his touch when he moves his hand from her chin to her cheek. she kisses his palm and suddenly she feels like she’s right back on that park bench the first time they met. excited and giddy and nervous for the future.
matt’s lips turn up just the slightest bit. “if you think i’m gonna be the first one to say it after the hell you put me through,” he leans down and kisses the corner of her lips. “you’re even crazier than i thought.”
y/n has no choice but to laugh at that. it’s breathy and fleeting, because the heavy words are still on the tip of her tongue. she knows matt is half kidding, but he has a point.
she trails a hand up his chest, fingers toying with the chain she’s completely infatuated with. she hooks her index finger around it, tugging matt down to her level. she ghosts her lips over his. “unfortunately for the both of us, i’m in love with you, stupid.”
y/n finally wins the smile from him that she’d been fighting for. “unfortunately?”
she shrugs. “yeah. for you, because now you’re actually stuck with me. for me because you’re the most irritating person i’ve ever met.”
matt looks at her, eyes sparkling. there’s no joking annoyance or fake flat look. his eyes are lit up like the fourth of july, telling her exactly how much he’s ready to be stuck with her. he doesn’t even roll his eyes.
“i think i’ll manage.” he says, bumping his nose against hers, silently begging for a kiss. “i love you too, stupid.”
there’s about a half a second that y/n takes to just look at him, take him in. the man she loves and that loves her. then she basically jumps on him.
matt laughs into her lips and it sounds like heaven to her ears. he picks her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing her like he’d missed her all his life.
it’s teeth and tongues and longing all being tied into each other. it’s doubt and fear and time wasted all falling away. it’s exactly where they need to be.
matt pulls away, and y/n opens her eyes, annoyed. “i wasn’t done.” she’s pouting, childishly.
matt smirks, moving to sit at the foot of his bed, still attached to his dream girl. “i know i’m irresistible but hold on a second.”
“i hate you.”
“no actually, you love me. said it yourself.” he winks obnoxiously, giving her a peck. his face stills momentarily, giving y/n a look that puts her on edge. “i just want you to know that i would never hurt you. i understand why you did what you did, i really do. but i need you to promise me that the next you feel like that or any kind of way, that you’ll talk to me. cause i can’t do that again.”
for a moment, y/n can see just how much it actually hurt him. how her apathy and avoidance had wriggled into his chest and made him the slightest bit insecure. he’d never tell her, but she knew.
so she grabs matt’s jaw, cupping it between her hands. her fingers scratch at his beard slightly and he preens at the touch. “i promise. i won’t shut you out again. i’m sorry i ever did.” the kiss she leaves on his lips is so soft, so gentle, she thinks she finally found the way to soothe and squash the ache. “i think you’re my favorite person.”
he smiles at her. it feels like no love she’s ever known. “you’re my favorite too.”
they spend the rest of the night there, wrapped in each other tightly. hands wandering and clothes falling. lips leaving white-hot kisses and sinfully sweet noises leaving them breathlessly.
and when matt’s lips leave a toe-curling trail of kisses all the way down to right between her legs, y/n thanks the fucking universe that she was bored that random day four months ago.
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imaginespazzi · 2 days
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Part 7: Home
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to (us)
(In which with bittersweet feelings, a nostalgic writer, finally writes the end of the story)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst and Fluff
Words: 7.1K
TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Hello my loves! I can't believe we've actually reached the end, who would have thought huh? I'm not sure if there will be an epilogue, mainly cause I don't know what I'd write but never say never. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter and if I've done the end I pictured justice but I really hope y'all like it anyways. There's a fair amount of creative liberty taken with WNBA logistics but please just accept it for the plot. Per usual, did I edit? Yes. Are there grammar mistakes and typos anyways? Yes. As always, let me know what you liked and disliked. And finally, to all my lovelies who have liked, reblogged, commented, sent in an ask, dm-ed me or simply just silently read this fic, I just wanna say thank you guys so, so, much, y'all have made writing every word worth it and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much I enjoyed writing it <3
August 2018
Paige swears, tonight, there are stars in the Minnesota night sky she’s never seen before in her life. The summer sky has darkened with nightfall, yet the shine of the moon and its companions make it still seem ever so bright. Or maybe, it’s just the girl lying next to Paige that makes tonight feel luminescent, sparkling with the promises of something not quite like friendship that Paige has never felt before. She’d spent the whole day with Azzi at the Minnesota State fair, trying to suppress these new butterflies in her stomach that seemed to have taken birth over their time in Latvia. Or well, maybe they’d been there from the start, but they’d really only started this dance of theirs, the one that makes Paige feel all tingly when Azzi smiles, over the course of this summer. 
“Paige it’s cold, stop hogging the blanket,” Azzi chastises, breaking Paige from a trance, as she tugs on the pink and purple blanket covering the two of them, “I knew we should have brought two of them.”
“It’s barely on me” Paige argues for the sake of arguing but she shifts anyway to allow the younger girl to pull the blanket, so clearly meant for one person, a little more towards her, “besides, it’s about sharing body heat.”
“You’re not even warm enough to share body heat,” Azzi mocks as she makes a show of tracing a finger down Paige’s arm and everything in the blonde feels like it’s been lit on fire at the touch. And she wonders if Azzi feels it too, the electricity, the sparks of this could ruin me that scatter through her veins before finding themselves setting her heart ablaze. It’s too much and Paige shakes Azzi’s hand off with a little more force than she means too. 
When Azzi sends her questioning look, she splutters through an excuse, “your hands are cold too. Can we just do the boring shit we’re here to do.”
"Stargazing is not boring,” Azzi says indignantly, opening the little stargazing booklet she’d brought with her, flicking through the pages looking for something specific. 
To be honest, sitting still in an open field and squinting at the sky trying to figure out a distant constellation isn’t really Paige’s brand of entertainment. She’s a fidgety person by nature, constantly embroiled in the urge to be moving. But Azzi had brought it up the other day, with pleading eyes and a hopeful grin and well, sometimes it felt sinful to deny Azzi of anything she wants. And that’s how they’d ended up at a campsite, not too far from the State fair, lying on the grass, heads tilted towards each other, with a single blanket shielding them from the summer breeze. 
“Okay,” Azzi says after a while, using her fingers to point out a pattern in the sky, “I think that one’s Cassiopeia.”
“If you say so,” Paige nods, not really sure what she’s supposed to be looking at. 
“Paaaaige,” Azzi whines, “focus.”
“Dude I can barely see anything, the fuck am I supposed to focus o-”
Before Paige can finish her sentence, she feels herself being pulled by the younger girl, the side of her body fitting into the crook’s of Azzi’s like a perfect puzzle piece. She looks over at the brunette, and the protest dies on the tip of her tongue, as she realises just how close Azzi is to her now, all semblance of air leaving her lungs. Paige gulps, eyes tracing every inch of her best friend’s face, stopping of their own accord at Azzi’s lips, before guiltily flashing back to meet the younger girl’s eyes which are just as focused on Paige. And it feels like there’s no force in this world right now that could make either of them look away. Except maybe the force of friends don’t do this. 
“Just focus,” Azzi breaks contact first, turning her face back at the stars, before gently grabbing hold of Paige’s hand so she can guide it in the pattern of the constellation. And Paige still doesn’t really see it, doesn’t even particularly care about seeing it, but if it gets Azzi to hold her hand, soft skin putting light pressure against her palm, she thinks she’ll try to see some random lines in the sky forever. 
“It’s pretty.”
“You don’t see it do you?”
“Nope,” Paige’s grin widens when Azzi chuckles, shaking her head fondly. Something in her blooms, delighted at being the reason for that. And she’s always prided herself in being funny, she thinks of herself as a little bit of a comedian really, but she’s never wanted to make anyone laugh quite as much as she wants to make Azzi laugh. 
“Well that’s enough stargazing for us then,” Azzi rolls her eyes, closing her little booklet and making a move to sit up but Paige is quicker, pulling the younger girl back down and interlocking their fingers. Her own overeagerness causes a tinge of embarrassment to race up her cheeks, and she hopes it’s dark enough that Azzi won’t see the pale pink blush taking over her face. 
“It’s peaceful out here,” she says quietly, sounding shy even to her own ears and she can’t help but wonder when the hell that happened, “you wanna stay a little longer?”
“Yeah okay let’s stay longer,,” Azzi agrees  and sometimes when Azzi speaks like that, her voice lyrically soft with a secret smile hidden in it, Paige wonders if maybe it would be okay to hope for, to feel something more because maybe, just maybe, Azzi feels it too. 
“You know you should come to the state championship,” Paige says after a second of silence, trying to keep her voice nonchalant but she can hear the wishfulness bleeding into it anyways. 
Azzi raises an eyebrow, “isn’t that in March? That’s like months and months away.”
“Yeah but- well-” Paige shrugs, cheeks burning just a little bit, “you probably wanna book in advance cause like tickets and stuff you know?”
“You don’t even know if you’ll be in the state championship. There’s still a whole season to go.”
“Oh I know. I know we’re definitely gonna be there.” Paige smirks, cockiness back in full-fledged form. 
“Then I’ll be there,” Azzi says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “you better win though Bueckers.”
“Watch me,” and she’s jutting her chest out in arrogance sure, but really everything inside her is swelling with something else, a feeling she’s starting to understand a little too well, a feeling that terrifies her, a feeling she doesn’t think she’s quite ready to let herself feel yet, “it would be nice you know, to win a championship together at some point.”
“I don’t think my parents would be on board with moving to Minnesota.”
“I’m sure I could convince them,” Paige feels a little giddy at the thought, “but I meant more like college, like UConn.”
It’s a topic they’ve stumbled upon a couple of times, with each other, and with the other girls at Team USA. And as much as Paige would love for her other teammates to follow her to her dream school, she’s practical enough to know they might have other priorities. But the thing is that with the rest of the girls, it’s just something she’d like to happen but with Azzi, now that Paige has said it out loud, she’s beginning to realise how desperately she wants that, her and Azzi, on the same team, fighting the same battles and winning the same wars, together. 
“Don’t think you can win a national championship without me Bueckers?” Azzi smirks, twisting her head towards Paige, eyebrows cocked in arrogance. 
“Of course I can,” Paige’s face softens, the vulnerability that only ever seems to come out around her best friend seeping on to her features, “but I think it would be fun to win one with you. Someday.”
“Someday, “ Azzi whispers back, giving Paige’s hand a light squeeze, and then her eyes widen at the sky, “holy shit is that a shooting star? Oh my god Paige look up, quick, it’s beautiful.”
In the dark of the night, a rare flicker of gold shoots across the obsidian Minnesota sky. Paige has never seen one before but it seems fitting really, that she’d see one tonight. 
“We have to make a wish,” she whispers and Azzi, never one to really believe, rolls her eyes but she follows Paige’s lead, closing her eyes. And the thing is Paige could wish for a lot of things really, but she finds herself thinking of only one word that sums up all she could ever want: someday.
***
August 2026 
They’ve been playing against each other for years now and yet the thrill of the face-off still hasn’t quite worn off. Back in the handful of games in high school, it had been quickfire friendly trash talk, two best friends going at it like the competitors they were. College had been drastically different, each game, each play, underlined with the tension of two people who still hadn’t quite figured it out. But Paige thinks her favourite version of them as opponents is definitely this one, the one where they might be on different teams in the WNBA, but off the court, they both know they’re on the same side, together. 
Their relationship isn’t quite a secret; it would have been impossible to hide if after the kiss at the 2025 national championship. But they’d kept as quiet about it as possible, skillfully dodging media questions, wanting to shelter it from the prying eyes of the public. It makes playing each other on national television, just that little bit more entertaining, trying to keep things as cordial as possible. If Paige’s hands end up just a little too close to Azzi’s waist, lingering a little longer than necessary against the patch of skin she’d marked with a hickey earlier this morning, and it makes the younger girl shiver, then that’s just a tactic to win. And if Azzi breathes seductive thoughts of what she’d like to do after the game when guarding Paige, and it makes the blonde want to turn around and kiss the smirk off of her girlfriend’s lips, well that’s just another innovative defensive strategy. 
“Be a good girl for me and move,” Paige whispers, the double entendre in her voice apparent, as she tries to dribble the ball past Azzi. There’s only a minute or so left in the last meeting of the regular season between Paige’s Lynx and Azzi’s Mystics -funny how that had worked out-  and the score is painfully close, with the Mystics closing in on the Lynx’s two point-lead. 
“Always a good girl for you P,” Azzi smirks, her voice the quietest it could possibly be, but Paige hears her next words like they’re on a loudspeaker in the area,  “it’s why I’m wearing your favourite purple panties.”
It takes a second, a second where Paige’s eyes gloss over with lust, as her mind rushes back to the last time she’d seen, the last time she’d touched the silky undergarment, for the ball to be stolen from her hands. She’s a step too slow to recover and by that time Azzi’s already scored the easy lay-up to tie up the game, a mischievous grin adorning her normally stoic game face. 
On the other end of the court, Napheesa draws a foul and Paige and Azzi end up next to each for free throws. Paige is seething, unsure if the heat curling up her spine is from the game or the girl standing next to her. 
“Sorry baby, all’s fair in love and war right?” Azzi teases, pinky brushing against the blonde’s, “I’ll make it up to you later if you want.”
“You’re such a fucking menace,” Paige practically growls. She does want, in fact she’d like it right now if it was possible. Two years they’ve been together, longer if you count the inbetween, and still, every time Azzi lights a match, Paige feels herself burn just as brightly as the first time she’d felt that magnetic pull. 
“Learnt from the best,” Azzi hums with a grin as Napheesa hits both free throws. 
The rest of the game passes in a blur of frenzied shots and hurried fouls but the Lynx pull out an eventual, much-needed win, to better their chances of clinching a higher seed in the playoffs. After missing the playoffs in 2024, the Lynx, despite having relatively low odds, had secured the no.1 pick and there had never really been a doubt that they would pick Paige. She’d helped the team get back to the playoffs last season but they hadn’t made it out of the first round. A championship doesn’t seem quite possible yet, but Paige has her fingers crossed that they’d at least make it to a semi-final this time. 
“The two of you are terrible at this,” Aaliyah’s the first person to hug Paige during the handshake line, “I thought you’d jump each other’s bones in the middle of the game today.”
“We’re not that bad,” Paige rolls her eyes at her former teammate. She high-fives a few more of the Mystics team until she gets to Azzi, who’s already smiling, despite the loss. The cameras are quick to crowd them, clearly wanting a more sensational picture than the one they’re likely to get. Still, despite the unwanted attention, Paige lets herself nestle into the crook of Azzi’s neck. 
“You owe me twice tonight,” she whispers into the younger girl’s ear, “one for the win and one for that bullshit you pulled on the court tonight.”
Azzi’s voice is breathless when she replies, “I can give you way more than two.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“It’s a promise.”
***
“With the new rules, after this season you’ll be a free agent, have you given any thought to that?”
Waiting for the Lynx’s turn in the media room, Paige hadn’t been paying much attention to the questions being asked to the Mystics players, her focus solely on how hot her girlfriend always looked post games. But the words ‘free agent’ pique her interest. The W had changed the rookie contract rules for first round draftees to two years and that meant both Paige and Azzi would be free agents after this year. But while it hadn’t reached the media quite yet, the Lynx were likely to use their core designation on Paige. Which meant the only one of them making any decision about next season would be Azzi. It was a subject the two of them were cautiously tip-toeing around, using the shield of distance to avoid talking about what it could mean for them. 
“I’m focused on the season, this team and the rest of our games. I’m not really thinking about the future,” Azzi answers diplomatically. 
“You’ve obviously got very strong ties to the DC area but you also went to UCLA, if the Sparks or maybe even the Valkyries, considering your connection to Steph Curry, were interested, and there have been rumours that they are, would you consider it?” the same reporter prods. 
“Again, I’m not currently thinking about any of that,” to anyone else Azzi probably sounds neutral but Paige has studied the sheet music of Azzi’s voice to the point where she knows what’s hidden behind every note, behind every little indent. The tinge of irritation is masked by a smile, but the line of questioning is clearly unappreciated. 
“And what about the Lynx?” the persistently oblivious reporter continues and this time Paige sucks in a breath, “you have some ties to that team don't you? Have you given some thought to maybe going there?”
Azzi’s eye twitches ever so slightly, “the Lynx just beat my team. The only thoughts I have right now are about how to beat them next time.”
That elicits a laugh from the media and finally the rather obtuse reporters seem to understand that he’s not going to be able to pry anything newsworthy from Azzi’s mouth. But even if he hasn’t achieved his desired effect, he’s succeeded in making Paige’s mind start running in circles. She hadn’t let herself think about it yet, the potential of Azzi joining the Lynx, the potential of playing with Azzi, the potential of finally just being with Azzi. Because facing the potential for all of that, facing all the things she wants means also facing the potential that maybe Azzi doesn’t want any of that. 
***
The air in Paige’s living room is thick with a suffocating tension as she and Azzi sit on opposite ends of the couch. It reminds Paige a little bit of the before, a dreaded version of them she’d foolishly thought they grown out of, until something reminiscent of their past problems had reared its ugly head, and suddenly it feels a bit like she’s playing a losing game. 
“Will you please stop that,” she bites out, referring to where Azzi’s foot is incessantly tapping on the wooden floors, “it’s giving me a headache.”
Azzi’s eyes narrow, flashing with irritation, “is it my tapping or the alcohol giving you a headache Paige?”
“I didn’t even drink that much,” Paige says through gritted teeth and Azzi scoffs. 
It’s a lie. After both teams were done with post game pressers, she, Azzi and a couple of the other girls had ended up at a local bar as they often did when the other team didn’t have to fly out til the next day. Paige had been tense the whole evening and trying to pretend not to be, especially when Azzi could see right through her façade, had only made the whole thing worse. She wasn’t one to drink too much, always happy just being sufficiently tipsy but then she’d gotten in her head too much. And when the first shot didn’t quite hit the way she needed it to, she’d kept on going, receiving worried looks from all the girls, until Azzi had finally stepped in. The ride back from the bar had been a sobering experience, one look at Azzi’s stoic face, giving away her irritation. 
“That’s why you still reek of tequila?” 
“How the fuck would you know? You haven’t come near me all night.” 
“Don’t you dare try and turn this on me Paige. I tried to talk to you all night til you decided you wanted to act like freshman frat boy,” Azzi spits out, hurt and anger colliding in her voice, “we barely get to spend time together during the season and the one night in forever that we do, you pull this shit?”
They haven’t had an argument like this since they’ve been officially together, the kind of argument that has them balancing on a delicate tight rope, too afraid to take a step backwards in their relationship, and too prideful to take a step forward towards each other. 
“I didn’t think you cared about spending time together during the season,” Paige accuses and there’s a sensible part of her, one that’s currently being held captive by the dangers of liquor, that knows it’s a ridiculous allegation. 
Azzi stares at her, lips opening and closing in disbelief, “excuse me?”
“It’s pretty simple really Azzi. If you wanna spend the whole season together, the option is right fucking there, but I- I can’t even tell if you’re interested in taking it,” Paige is pacing now, teeth gnawing at her lips like they always do when she’s nervous. 
“What- what are you even talking about?” Azzi asks, clearly confused. 
“Free fucking agency. They asked you about it and you said you hadn’t thought about it at all. That’s really great to hear Az, really great to know you haven’t thought about how that could literally change our whole fucking life,” and even as the words waterfall out of her mouth, Paige knows she’s being unreasonable, but the mix of stress and alcohol churning in her stomach is just enough to keep her from taking the words back. 
“I didn’t- that’s not even what I said. Jesus fucking christ Paige,” Azzi rubs her face, looking defeated.
“So you have thought about it then?”
“Of course I’ve thought about it, “ Azzi throws her hands up, “but I wasn’t gonna tell the media about all of that. But you- you seriously think I haven’t thought about what this means for us? You don’t- do you really think I’m not thinking about you- about us- while trying to make this decision?”
“Well you definitely didn’t think of me- of us- when you chose UCLA,” Paige’s eyes widen at her own words, knowing immediately that of all things she could have said, those were the worst ones, “I- I didn’t mean it like that.”
In front of her, Azzi has gone deathly still, face completely devoid of emotion, until the first tear drops and all of Paige’s anger dissipates, the guilt clawing back with full force. 
“I thought we were over that,” Azzi whispers, voice trembling, as she looks down at her hands, “but maybe we’ll never be over that.”
“We are,” Paige sinks to her knees in front of the younger girl, tugging Azzi’s hands into her own, “we are over it. I just- it just slipped out.”
Azzi’s quiet for a moment before she pulls her hands out of the blonde’s grip, sidestepping her as she stands up and Paige feels empty and cold and just a little bit broken. 
“Are you leaving?” she whispers, peering up at Azzi through tear soaked eyelashes. 
“I think I should, before anything else just slips out,” Paige flinches and Azzi’s expression softens, “I know- I know you didn’t mean it like that but I just- I need some space.”
Panic filters into Paige’s lungs, wrapping its dirty hands and squeezing so tight that she can barely breathe. She’s not sure when she’ll see Azzi again, now that there’s no more Lynx-Mystics games left in the regular season and it’s unlikely with their expected seedings that they’d meet at some point in the playoffs. It’s not like distance is new to them, but in the last two years, they’ve only ever said goodbye with an i love you attached to the end. 
“Are you-,” Paige gasps for air, “are you leaving me?”
And it must be written all over Paige's face, just how petrified she is of this moment, because that's all it takes for Azzi to rush back into Paige’s space, hands cupping her cheeks, “oh baby of course not. I just- you’re still drunk and I’m upset and I don’t want us to say anything we don’t mean. And I- need time to think about free agency and I think you- you need time to think about why that slipped out.”
Paige sighs, melting into Azzi’s touch as the knots in her stomach begin to untangle themselves, “you’re so logical.”
“Someone has to be,” a half-smile flitters across the younger girl’s face as she wipes at Paige’s tears, “we’ll figure this out okay? Just- just give me a little bit of time.”
Give me time. It’s a familiar line, so similar to what Azzi had asked for when she was making a decision about college and Paige would be lying if she said there isn’t a part of her that’s terrified fate is going to make them repeat the same mistakes. But part of growing up, Paige surmises, is letting time test you with the same trials and tribulations, and the next time, coming out of the other end on the right side. 
And so she squeezes Azzi’s hand, matching the younger girl's half smile, with a soothing one of her own, “okay.”
***
November 2027 
Paige doesn't know when she ended up in a love triangle with Azzi and the state of California but she wishes she was competing against an actual person. At least then she could throw a punch at the other guy. The W season is barely over and it seems like every front office has thrown themselves headfirst into convincing free agents to join their team. There’s a couple of teams interested in Azzi, but no one seems to be trying harder than the Los Angeles Sparks. Paige thinks whoever gave that city a name meaning “the angels” could not have been more wrong because really it’s a city full of devils constantly trying to steal her girl and no she’s not being dramatic. 
They’re supposed to be leaving for thanksgiving dinner when Azzi’s phone rings and Paige can’t help but roll her eyes when Cameron Brink’s name flashes on the CallerID. The Sparks seemed to have put her as head of their recruiting Azzi campaign and Cam had been diligently doing her part. 
“Azzi, Cam’s calling again,” Paige yells out to her girlfriend who’s still not quite finished getting ready.
“Can you pick it up?”
“Do I have to?”
“Paige,” Azzi whines and Paige sighs, hitting the green answering button. 
“The amount of times you’ve called my girlfriend this week, Brink, should I be concerned?”
“Jealous I’m replacing you as her favourite blonde?” Cam’s voice always sounds like she’s smiling and Paige can’t help her own smile. Goddamn Cameron Brink for always being the sweetest soul on this planet. 
“As if,” Paige scoffs, “it’s a holiday Cam, give the recruiting a rest.”
“Hey, I’m just calling to wish her a happy thanksgiving,” Cam defends. 
“Mmmhmm where’s my thanksgiving wish?”
“Oh please, the two of you are basically a unit. Wishing her is wishing you,” Cam is quiet for a second before speaking again, “the Sparks would be a good fit for her Paige.”
Paige sucks in a sharp breath, “I’m not the one you’re gonna have to convince.”
“I know but you know your opinion means a lot to her. I know you want her in Minnesota and she'd be good there too and I- I know it isn’t my place to say any of this but just- just don’t discourage her from doing what’s best for her,” there’s not a hint of malice in Cam’s words, there never is, but they pierce at Paige’s skin anyways. 
“Okay I’m ready, hand me the phone,” she’s saved from having to answer by Azzi waltzing into the living room and prying the phone from her hands. 
Paige watches silently as Azzi talks animatedly with Cam, noticing the way her girlfriend’s smile widens while talking about certain spots in L.A. They’d subconsciously decided not to breach the subject of free agency after that night. Paige hadn’t interfered in any of the Lynx’s conversations with Azzi, deciding that this time, she’d stay out of it. It hadn’t been easy, every little bit of her itching to pitch why the Lynx were the perfect fit, why Paige was the perfect fit, but she was determined to give Azzi the space -the time- she’d wanted. This time she’d leave the choice solely up to Azzi and whatever she decided, Paige would find her happiness in that. 
“Paige you ready to go,” Azzi waves a hand in front of Paige’s face, eyebrows raised in question when the older girl doesn’t make a move to get off the sofa, “hey, you good?”
“Cam says the Sparks would be a good fit,” Azzi stiffens at Paige’s words. 
“Paige-”
“She’s right,” Paige concedes, fingers fidgeting as she averts Azzi’s gaze. 
The younger girl blinks at her, clearly not having expected that, “she is?”
“Yeah. They need a shooting guard and you,” Paige smiles, reaching out to pull Azzi onto the couch with her, “you’re the best there is.”
“I wouldn’t go that far-”
“You are to me and it’s why I want you on the Lynx,” they both let out a breath with that. It’s not a secret of course but Paige hasn’t said it out loud before. 
“Paige-”
“But it’s okay if you don't wanna be on the Lynx, if you wanna be on the Sparks or stay here with the Mystics or on any other team, if you think it’s the right move for you and for your career then that’s fine. It’s okay and you don’t- you don’t need my permission or anything of course but I just- whatever you decide, I’ll support it okay? What I said that night about UCLA-  it wasn't- it wasn’t about you. I thought about it like you asked me to and it’s me. I was scared that I would fuck it up again and I’d lose you again-”
“You won’t,” Azzi grabs Paige’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze,  “I won’t let you.”
“I know. I know now that whatever happens, we’ll be okay. And so you can choose whatever team you want and it won’t- it won’t affect us, I promise. It won’t be like last time I swear. When you make your decision- I just- I don’t want you to make it for me or for us, cause you and me? Baby we’ll be just fine no matter what. Wherever you go and wherever I am, we’ll make it work, just as we have for the last two years,” Paige smirks, “besides I kinda enjoy kicking your ass.”
Azzi lets out a snort as she climbs onto Paige’s lap, thighs straddling her hips, “you really had to ruin it with that last part huh?”
“Was getting a little too sappy for me,” Paige mumbles and when she looks up, the emotions floating in Azzi’s eyes make Paige’s heart stutter. Because no one else gets this Azzi. This Azzi, who wears her heart on her sleeve, who lets her walls down, only for Paige’s eyes to see, only for Paige’s mind to memorise, only for Paige’s heart to keep. 
“You mean it?” Azzi whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of Paige’s face, touching lingering, “you’d be okay with anything?”
“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige cups Azzi’s cheeks, brushing her lips against the younger girl’s, “whatever you choose, we’ll be fine. No matter what, I believe in us.”
***
January 2028
Paige groans when her phone rings at 2 a.m., fumbling around in the dark trying to answer it. 
“I swear you better be dying if you’re calling me this late,” she grumbles into the phone, voice scratchy with sleep. 
“Not quite,” Azzi says, and Paige’s eyebrows furrow at the amount of background noise she can hear behind her girlfriend. 
“Dude where the hell are you at 3 in the morning?” she asks, now a little more awake as she sits up. 
“I uh- I had a bit of a revelation,” and Paige can practically picture Azzi, wherever she might be, fidgeting with her fingers and biting her lips. 
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“I know. I know. Shit, I was supposed to do this in person. I had a whole plan but apparently being with you has made me impatient,” Azzi rambles. 
“You’re still not making any sense,” but Paige’s heart is starting to beat erratically fast in anticipation. 
“I had this realisation while I was in the gym today, it was really quiet and peaceful and I was fine you know- all day I was fine- just doing daily routines and then I just- I missed you. I miss you all the time do you know that?”
Paige does know, knows it far too well. Sometimes she thinks missing Azzi comes as naturally as breathing, an innate part of her day to day, a constant ache that she’s felt since she was 15. 
“I miss you too,” she whispers. 
“And I’ve learned to survive with that feeling, with missing you constantly. I mean it’s been more than 10 years at this point, how could I not? But what I realised today is that just because I can- just because I can live missing you- doesn’t mean I want to.”
“What are you saying Azzi?”
“DC is my childhood. My family is close to there, it’s part of where I grew up. It’ll always be my first home. And LA is where I found myself, my identity, and for a while it felt like home too.”
“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, hands gripping the phone as tight as possible, wrapping that one syllable in emblems of give me forever. 
“But my forever home isn’t in DC or LA and it’s not really in any other place either because-  Jesus this might be the clichést thing I’ve ever said but-,” Azzi lets out a chuckle, “my home is wherever you are Paige. Wherever we’re together, that’s home.”
It feels a little bit like the end of a drought, the wetness on Paige’s cheeks like the rain that comes after. In the pitch black of her room, phone clutched closely to her ear with Azzi’s words floating through it like a swan song, Paige swears she’s never felt the world glow quite like this before. 
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Beating your ass has been fun as hell but I think we’d make a pretty good team Bueckers.”
And it’s a good thing Paige’s walls are soundproof because the delighted whoop she lets out practically vibrates around the room, all previous wisps of tiredness completely gone from her body. Azzi lets out a tearful laugh and Paige wishes they were together right now so she could tattoo this happiness onto both of their skins. 
“The greatest team ever,” Paige affirms, “When are you com-”
“Attention passengers Delta Airlines Flight 1248 to Minneapolis will be boarding soon, please have your passport and ticket ready to check at the gate.”
“About that,” Azzi says shyly as Paige’s mouth drops open at the announcement, “I uh- I had a moment of spontaneity.”
“Who the hell are you and what have you done with my overthinking girlfriend?” Paige demands and Azzi giggles on the other end of line.
“I know it’s last minute, like really last minute and it was meant to be a surprise actually but I just- I really wanna see you. Is that okay?”
“Is that okay? Fuck Azzi, it’s all I want. Baby,” Paige breathes out softly, “come home.”
*** 
Time isn’t going nearly fast enough Paige thinks as she checks the arrivals board for the nth time. She’d tried for about four seconds to fall back asleep after hanging up the phone but her entire body had been buzzing with excitement. And so she’d gotten to the airport far earlier than necessary, and had maybe one too many cups of coffee if the jittery shake in her left hand is anything to go by.
She swears she feels her before she sees her. The air is electric as if the whole city, the whole state is waiting for Azzi too, for them to get their elusive forever. This moment feels like years in the making, and Paige is ready, ready to grasp it and make it hers. And then there’s Azzi, a clearly chosen-at-last minute wrinkled t-shirt, eyes drooping from the tiredness from not having slept all night, baby hairs in a frenzy across her forehead. To Paige, she’s still the prettiest girl in the entire universe. 
Azzi’s eyes scan through the airport until they land on Paige, a dazzling smile illuminating her exhausted features. It’s the exact same smile that Paige had first elicited from her on the flight back from Argentina when she’d told Azzi she had a feeling they'd make great friends. It’s her Paige smile. The world is still for a second, everything melting away except them and the whispers of the journey it had taken them to get to this point. Every delicately placed step towards each other feels like an ode to every year they’d spent apart. And then Paige is running, not caring about everyone else around her. She jumps into Azzi’s arm, all 6 feet of her, tangling her legs around the younger girl's waist while her arms fasten around the neck. It forces Azzi to let go of her small carry-on, not caring that it falls to the floor with a thud, as her hands wrap around Paige’s back, steadying her girlfriend’s weight on top of her. 
“You’re here,” Paige whispers, still a little in disbelief, “you’re really here.”
“I’ve been in Minny plenty of times before,” Azzi quips, adjusting her balance to properly hold the girl clinging to her like a koala. 
“Shut up you know what I mean. You’re here forever this time.”
“Well I don’t know about forever- OW,” Azzi shrieks, as Paige pinches her arm, “do you want me to drop you woman?”
“You’re never allowed to leave.”
“That sounds vaguely threatening.”
“Good because it definitely is a threat,” Paige says before pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, “welcome home baby.”
***
October 2028 
There are moments in life you remember forever. Sometimes you know they’re going to happen, sometimes they take you off guard and sometimes, it’s a combination of both. The Minnesota Lynx’s journey to the WNBA finals this season had always felt inevitable but the journey there, for a team that had unexpectedly fallen to the 4-seed despite pre-season clamour of them being number one, had been filled with bitter losses and moments of pure uncertainty. In a way, it perfectly mirrors Paige and Azzi’s relationship. 
There’s 11 seconds separating the Lynx from their 5th championship trophy as they lead the Sky by two points. The crowd is up on their feet, ready for their cheering to turn into roars the minute the final buzzer rings. Paige has the ball in her hands on the inbound, Coach Reeves yelling at her from the bench what to do, as she makes eye contact with Azzi. There are no words, not even a gesture that the other team might be able to interpret, but they know exactly what play they’re about to run.
Truth be told it hadn’t been the seamless transition the two of them had expected when Azzi joined the Lynx. They’d been naive to think years of not playing together wouldn’t have affected the backcourt chemistry they’d had almost instantly once upon a time. The first few games, there had been an embarrassing disconnect between the two of them that had resulted in a nasty berating from Coach Reeves and a subsequent argument between the two of them that had lasted into the next morning. It had taken several more practices, and a couple more games of flailing around, for them to finally become the duo Paige had always known they would. 
The game buzzer beeps and Paige throws the ball to Azzi who immediately returns it back to her, and then she’s running off screen after screen to get herself open on the wing, her sweet spot. Paige dribble penetrates into the paint, dragging an extra defender with her as they try to prevent her from getting a layup, the other defender blocks her from stepping back into a pull-up. Azzi’s defender has a momentary lapse in judgement, falling for the age-old trick of thinking she should help on defence, and that’s all it takes. A second for Paige to see Azzi open on the corner and pass it to her. A second for Azzi to shoot it. 
The three-pointer falls through the next with a perfect swish. Dagger shot. 
A small smile flits across Azzi’s face, the only emotion she’s shown all game and Paige can’t help the much larger grin that starts to flash on her own face. She can almost taste victory on the tip of her tongue, the two seconds left in the game are the only thing separating her from finally getting her version of the things we live for. Behind her she can hear Coach Reeves yelling at them to not foul, the 5-point lead enough of a cushion for them to withstand a last minute shot. But the Sky barely make it over midcourt and when Marina Mabrey heaves up a last second prayer, Paige doesn’t bother to see if it goes in as the buzzer sounds throughout Target Arena. The Minnesota crowd explodes in noise and colour as confetti falls from the sky. 
Despite the chaos of everything, Paige has never seen Azzi clearer than in this moment. Since she’d met the girl, in all of Paige’s prayers about winning a championship, one thing had always been constant, that when they’d come true, they’d come true with Azzi by her side. And she had been. The high school state champion, the college national championship, Azzi had been there for both but on the bleachers, as a spectator and as Paige’s biggest fan. But this, winning a championship with Azzi as her teammate, as her ally, as her partner, means something more. This win is theirs. 
“Do you remember when we saw that shooting star?” Azzi says softly, as they find their way into each other’s arms, not caring that there’s a thousand cameras capturing their every move. Paige pulls Azzi closer to her, every inch of her body pressing into the other girls until she’s not sure where she begins and where Azzi ends. 
“That was years ago,” Paige remarks but she can see it clearly, two young girls underneath the stars, unaware of what their future would be but sure that the other would be in it. Those girls would probably laugh at how long it had taken Paige and Azzi to figure out what had seemed so simple back then. 
“Yeah, yeah it was. Do you remember what you wished for?” Azzi asks, smiling when Paige nods, “do you wanna know what I wished for?”
“What did you wish for Az?”
“Before we saw the star you- you said it’d be nice to win a championship together someday. And so I-,” Azzi looks down shyly, “so I wished for someday. I wished for today.”
Paige stares at Azzi, drinking in the sincerity on the shooting guard’s face, silently letting herself absorb the meaning of Azzi’s words. And then she lets out a laugh because of course of course. 
“I didn’t realise I’d said anything funny for you to be laughing at me,” Azzi scrunches her nose, looking slightly offended. 
“God baby no,” Paige cups Azzi’s face, and she thinks this smile on her face will last forever as long as this is her reality, “I’m not laughing at you. I just- do you know what I wished for?” 
Azzi shakes her head. 
“This. The same exact thing you did. For someday.”
It’s not quite the shade of blue Paige had imagined them in, the Lynx blue its own shade, something inbetween UConn’s navy one and UCLA’s sky one. But it’s perfect nonetheless. And when Azzi crashes her lips against Paige’s, someday feels a lot like forever and always.
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poisonlove · 2 days
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Wednesday and R studying as 'friends'
Yk the friendships where u keep indirectly flirting + hinting u like each other but never actually adress it?
anyway Wednesday's big on focus so she takes R's phone out her hand and finds her stupid ass looking up 'how to kiss your best friend' or smth😭😭
just flirting | w.a
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Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader
Status: request
Warning: fluffy, Wednesday really don't understand
Studying with Wednesday Addams was never an easy task. I sat on the floor of her room surrounded by books and notes, while she read with intense concentration.
My eyes admired the gothic girl: hair neatly aligned in two locks, long lashes and piercing brown eyes, full lips, freckles dusted on the bridge of her nose, and a stoic yet attractive gaze.
I had been in love with Wednesday for a long time.
But everyone knows that Wednesday is... well... Wednesday.
"What are you staring at?" the brunette asked in a monotone voice, her eyes focused on the sheet she was writing on.
Neat and small handwriting.
Addams' eyes shifted to the English literature book.
"Wednesday, do you know that your way of concentrating is fascinating?" I said, with a slight smile
blatantly flirting.
She lifted her gaze from the book, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. "I don't see how it can be fascinating," she replied with her usual coldness.
"Well, there's something magnetic about the way you immerse yourself in what you do," I continued, getting closer. "It's hard to look away from you when you're so focused."
I bite my lower lip.
I could smell Wednesday's perfume: Vanilla.
Wednesday stared at me for a moment, her intense gaze scrutinizing me as if trying to understand my true intentions.
My cheeks flushed at the intensity of her gaze.
"You have a strange way of expressing your interest in studying," she commented, returning to the book with a slight grimace. "And what's with your face? You're blushing," she asked with curiosity, and perhaps a hint of concern.
"Oh, nothing, it's just warm here," I apologized, avoiding her gaze and looking at the floor.
Wednesday sighed loudly and slowly got up from the floor. Her feet moved gracefully and rhythmically towards the window, opening it.
I bite my lower lip at the sweetness of the brunette.
"It's not just an interest in studying," I replied to her first statement, keeping my tone light. "There's something fascinating about you, in the way you dedicate yourself to what you do. It's as if you're in a world of your own and I can't take my eyes off you."
She raised her eyes again, this time with a hint of curiosity. "It's a very elaborate way of saying that you find me interesting," she observed, her tone slightly less cold.
"Yes, and I think it's wonderful," I said, hoping that my flirting attempt had made an impression.
Wednesday raised an eyebrow slightly, as if evaluating my response. "Instead of staring at me, why don't you use those beautiful eyes to read the English literature assignment?" she said monotonously, indicating the book on the floor next to me.
I felt surprised by her response, but I couldn't help but smile. "Alright," I replied, accepting her request.
I smiled shyly, my eyes looking at Wednesday with curiosity.
"Wednesday... What should we do?" I asked, looking at the book with confusion.
"An analysis of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'," Wednesday replied calmly.
"Speaking of dreams," I said calmly, catching Wednesday's attention.
"Wednesday, are you real or are you a dream come true?" I said, trying to keep a light tone.
She raised her gaze and her eyes looked at me intensely. "You seem rather confused," she commented with a subtle, almost imperceptible smile. "But I believe I'm real enough to help you with this assignment."
Addams' attention was captured by the book once again.
I sighed internally, but I didn't give up.
"You know, if you ever need a break, we could do something different. Maybe go out together?"
"An outing?" Wednesday repeated, without lifting her gaze. "I find social outings to be mostly a waste of time."
"But not with me," I promptly replied. "I promise it would be interesting."
She raised an eyebrow, finally looking at me again. "How exactly?"
"Well, I could tell you about that time I solved a mystery in the library," I said with a mischievous smile. "Or we could simply take a walk in the woods. I'm sure we'd find something intriguing."
Wednesday seemed to consider my proposal for a moment. "If you think it's worth our time, I might consider it."
My heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was a step forward. "Then it's a date," I said, trying to sound casual.
She didn't respond, returning to her book.
My stomach twisted in a tangle of frustration. It was as if I had thrown a coin into a bottomless well, not expecting even an echo in response. I bit my lower lip to hide my disappointment, trying to focus on the text in front of me, but it was difficult to ignore the weight of Wednesday's silence.
I sighed loudly.
"Um... Could I use your phone?" Wednesday suddenly asked.
Her eyes scrutinized my movements with care, as if trying to read my thoughts.
"Sure..." I replied with tight lips, feeling a shiver of nervousness run down my spine.
Wednesday took the phone, opened the browser, and the expression of confusion that appeared on her face made me instinctively worry.
"How to kiss your best friend," she read aloud, raising an eyebrow. "Why did you search for this?"
My heart began to beat faster in my chest as I desperately tried to find an answer that didn't sound suspicious. "Uh, just curiosity," I stammered, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "You know, for... research purposes,"
I quickly concluded, hoping that my explanation sounded convincing enough.
She stared at me for a moment, then shrugged. "I find empirical research more effective than theory. If you really want to know, you should try it directly."
I stood there with my mouth open, unsure if she was joking or not. "Are you saying I should try it?"
"If you think it's important for your education, yes," she replied, returning to her book as if nothing had happened.
I sighed, resigned. Perhaps one day Wednesday would understand what I was trying to tell her. But until then, continuing to flirt seemed like the only option.
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cookie-crumblr · 3 days
Text
Chubby F! Housewife Reader X M!Yandere Streamer OC Jasper
Part 1?
(idk i might continue it?? should i? i know it’s more niche)
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MINORS DNI
CW: Chubby F!reader, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, cheating themes, reader in a dress, pet names for reader(darling, ) not smutty yet! slow burn possibly
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keep thinking about a chubby housewife reader to like a really shitty but rich man, and they move next door to Jasper………………. MMMMM
Anything in Red reader isn’t aware of
Your husband moved you both into a beautiful mansion in a gated community. It’s amazing, and everything you could ever need, he’s providing.
You fell in love with him a year and a half ago.
It’s not like he lied, but you wouldn’t have married him had you known what he was really like.
He drinks all day and complains all night, and when he fucks you, he finishes in a few seconds. And that’s when he does fuck you! He’s hardly ever even touching you let alone getting it in.
You are standing outside overseeing the movers as they take boxes and furniture into your brand new house. your skirt dances against your legs in the warm, gentle breeze.
Your husband swirls an amber liquid in a short crystal glass, watching you from the doorway. When you wave excitedly, he skulks back into the mansion.
Your heartstrings tug painfully.
He’s taken you far away from all of your loved ones, somewhere where you’re all alone and afraid… And he can’t even be there for you at least little bit? Before a stinging tear fully can form-
“Evenin’” You hear a lazy male voice from nearby, and spin toward your hedges. There’s a wrought gate between yours, and your neighbors’ yard directly… The old neighbors must’ve been their friend. A young looking guy stands on the other side of it, waving kindly to you. His posture is easy, one hand in his jean pocket, the other up in the air, his head tipped back exposing his pale neck. Long black hair frames his face, loaded with piercings. He looks out of place, but perfectly at home standing out.
You approach, figuring that your husband can lead the movers just fine on his own. You don’t notice your slight pout, but Jasper finds it adorable, he bites his lip, eyeing you up.
“Sorry I didn’t bake ya a pie, didn’t know the place would be sold so soon.” He laughs and lazily scratches the back of his head, his shirt pulls up revealing his hip bone.
“Why? ‘s it haunted? OooOo” You wave your fingers to mock something spooky.
He laughs at your cute demeanor, “Eh maybe, last owner did die,” he shrugs.
“Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t know….” You idly run your fingers over the cold, slightly bumpy textured gate.
“Nothing to be sorry for, didn’t know them” He shrugs.
“Oh phew! I thought— Anyway!” You shake your hands and head to reset the convo, “What’s up? why’d you call me over here?” You tilt your head and fold your hands in front of you.
“I was just greeting my pretty new neighbor, that’s all,” He grins.
“Oh stop! I’m married!” You shyly laugh and turn your head so that he can’t see you’re flustered.
“happily?” His grin grows as does his suspicion.
“Oh!” You think of an excuse to quickly leave, “I think the movers are calling me!” You rush off back to at least pretend to delegate again.
His brow raises curiously as he smiles after you, watching your curves sway as you walk away.
The stranger watches you for a few minutes longer, and you feel his eyes on you, but you don’t dare turn around and encourage him.
You are a good wife. Regardless of who you ended up marrying. You stomp, steadfast in your decision.
He chuckles before walking back to his home.
~
Inside you finish setting the table with the house workers, and arranging the flowers on all the marble pedestals around the dining room. Your husband is having some business partners over for dinner.
As the door rings you rush to answer the door, and an employee beats you to it, taking their coat and everything.
You aren’t really sure what you should be doing… And your chest tightens with nerves.
“What are you doing out here? You should be with me.” Edward grabs your elbow and drags you along. He’s being rather rough but you can’t help feel a little grateful to be lead. It doesn’t stop your eyes burning in embarrassment.
He sets you down in the seat next to his at the head, and your heart flutters with pride, emotional whiplash aside.
A few men enter the dining room one after the other, and then dinner is served. you’re dissociating for most of it, just nodding along to their dull conversation, until your husband’s hand clasps around your thigh. “Huh?”
“You’re excused now, darling,” he has a cold look in his eye that startles you.
“What?” What he said hurt your feelings, he doesn’t want you around now? did you do something wrong?
“Leave, let us grown ups talk now” He laughs with his business friends joining in.
You feel that far too familiar sting in your eyes, how could he!? that’s so embarrassing! You’re his wife.
Doing your best, you stand without making a scene and give them all your most polite and proper departing smile.
~
It’s cold on the patio. Your evening dress doesn’t cover very much and where it does, the fabric is cool. You’re quick to shiver, but you remain.
There’s a security camera above you and you feel watched, so you decide to go for a walk around the block instead of staying stationary. Maybe that will warm you up a little too.
You creep out the front gate, feeling like you’re a teen again, sneaking out when you aren’t supposed to… But this is your home! you aren’t disallowed from taking a walk!
“Hah!” You laugh to yourself, how silly of a feeling you just had.
As you round a corner adorned by an iron lamp post with glowing twin lanterns, you start dwelling more and more on your predicament. You already felt lonesome before, where Edward had made you feel special, and told you you’d never be alone again. Yet here you are, walking down the dim street, alone.
An engine coming towards you snaps you out of your thoughts, you turn to see a large van slowing down as it approaches you. Your heart thumps and your mind races before the driver side window rolls down revealing your neighbor’s laid back, and smirking face.
You let out a shaky sigh, “oh goodness you scared me for a second!” followed by a nervous laugh.
“You alright? Want a ride?” He asks.
“Oh no, don’t worry about me! I was just taking a stroll,” You let your words hang, wanting to accept but being a little too frightened or nervous to outright accept.
“C’mon, we can have some coffee or tea at my place, ‘sides, i’d feel terrible if i just left ya out here at this time, sure it’s gated but a tasty lookin’ treat like you’d get snatched up in a heartbeat.”
Your face feels hot but you nod and mangange to get out an “mhm!”
He watches you round the front of his van, and reaches his body over the center console to open the passenger door for you.
He offers his hand to help you up, when you take it, it’s cold! “What have you been up to? You feel like death! here!” You bring his hand up to your face and blow warm air over his knuckles.
Crimson fills his cheeks for the moment and is swift to clear back out before you can really admire it.
You pull back away a little embarrassed yourself, you aren’t sure why you did that to a stranger! “Oh! I don’t even know your name! I’m Y/N!” You stick your hand back out in offer to shake his.
He takes it, “Jasper,” a small smile tugs at his lips.
~
The drive isn’t long, but you realize how far from home you actually were, and wonder what he had been doing to find you.
You step out onto his driveway and anxiously look through the gate connecting your yards. It feels as though this is something you really shouldn’t be doing… But this Jasper guy could be a friend, and then you won’t be so lonely anymore!
Your home is still lit up inside, so you’re assuming they’re still talking in there.
Jasper’s space on the inside is dimly lit, but brightly coloured retro fantasy, all soft shapes with rounded sides. Mostly pinks and purples. Very vaporwave. The kitchen tiles, though the typical black and white checker board, warp and look like waves on the floor. Plants cover most all the surfaces.
He makes you your preferred tea, or coffee, he doesn’t make himself a cup of either. Instead he grabs a pale blue, and silver can from the fridge.
“Oh i see how it is,” You say with sarcasm.
“I figured you’d need to warm up,” A smile crosses his lips that has your body feeling hot.
You sip your drink nonchalantly.
“So what were you doing out there by yourself?”
“My husband— Nevermind, sorry. I shouldn’t talk bad about my husband behind his back…”
“Well I know something we could do if you don’t wanna go back yet…” his brow raises in a challenge.
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littlemissmiller · 3 days
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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒫𝓁𝒾𝓃𝓉𝒽 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓏𝑒
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Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!himbo!reader
Summary: snow got rid of highbottom before he could reveal his secrets to winning the games and with with lucy gray back in twelve, all he wants is you. with the victory of the games done, there is only one thing left, the Plinth family fortune. at the award dinner however, coriolanus thinks you’re not behaving just how he’d like it, so he decides to do something about it….
Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, praise kink, dom!snow, sub! reader, degeneration (use of whore, slut), spanking, p in v, oral (m receiving), cum play, rough sex, dirty talk, possession, jealousy, slight obsession, reader is innocent (but not a virgin)
Word count: 7k
A/N: y’all….y’all this one is spiccccy like 🌶️🔥🥵 idk where this came from but another one just sitting in the vault…and i also realized that i wrote this before i wrote Bad Press and His Good Girl (go read those if you haven’t) and this one is kind of both of those stories combined. i think they walked so this one could run in a way because even some of these lines shocked me 🤭 so anyways strap in, buckle up, and enjoy ❦
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Tonight will be perfect. The Plinth Prize dinner. To celebrate the young academy student who won the prestigious award. Coriolanus buttons his new, freshly pressed white linen shirt. It was custom made to his exact measurements and Tigris had taken it upon herself to adorn the shirt with a little color and design. A simple red rose on the shirt pocket. It worked well as a simple white button up, even with the rose hidden under a blazer or sports coat, the subtle design is perfect. He straightens up when he hears a small, repetitive knock at his door. So quiet and timid and afraid. He knows it’s you, but calls out asking who it is anyways. You open the door and peek inside.
“My love? The Grandma’am says breakfast is ready.”
Coriolanus looks over his shoulder. There you stand, halfway in the doorway. Your eyes wide and lips showing him a soft smile.
He smiles back and as he finishes the last button, he takes a seat on the edge of his bed. He laces up a pair of black dress shoes. You tentatively walk further into the room, your eyes simply admiring the man you get to call your own.
“You’re here early today, pet.” He smiles glancing up at you
“Of course. I want to soak in every possible moment I have with you today. Today is all about you. How smart you are.” You say taking a step towards him. “How clever and ambitious.” You take another couple of steps. Coriolanus is now swelling with so much pride he can barely contain himself. You know how your words stir him up.
“Come sit.” Coriolanus commands, patting his leg, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.
You glide over to him, landing softly in this thigh. You wrap your arms around his neck and instantly put his hand in on your body. His finger trails up and down your thigh slowly, gently back and forth.
“My life is about to change, dove. Soon The Snow’s will have a nicer penthouse, or a new home entirely. With a garden for the Grandma’am, and a studio for Tigris.” He whispers, beginning to place a soft kiss on your neck. “And for you. A beautiful bedroom, with a balcony and a bath. Big enough for us both to lay in. While our maid brings us posca to sip. Better yet, champagne. Would you like that?” He asks, his hot breath fanning your ear. You’re too caught up in the fantasy of you lying against him in a huge porcelain bath that you don’t respond at first. He tugs on your earlobe with his teeth to regain your attention.
“You want that don’t you?”
You nod “Yes Coryo, I want that.”
“Good. I’ve already started looking for new places and I think I might have found the perfect place. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Not until I officially have the Plinth fortune in my hands.”
“You deserve it. It’s like you say… Snow lands on top.”
“Snow lands on top.” He smiles. He turns your head to face him and he kisses you. His lips are so soft against yours. He takes his time with the kiss he places upon you. Slowly teasing and dragging it out, making you grow needy for him. His fingers graze your chin and the side of your jaw. He pulls back all too soon for you, giving you a devilish grin.
“You will be beautiful tonight. That black dress I bought you, will be stunning at the Plinth family table. You might get mistaken for the main course.” He breaths, trailing his fingers down your throat. His other hand starts to delicately touch your thigh again.
“Or maybe I’ll just save you for dessert later.” His hand trails under your skirt and to your clothed core. He grazes over your slit and you shudder “Mmm good girl.” He kisses your jaw “Now” he pats your thigh “will you be a sweetheart for me and fix up my plate? I’ll be out soon.”
“Of course. Looks like eggs, sausage links, and cubed potatoes.”
“Perfect.” He smiles, before pecking your lips. You hop off his lap, fix your skirt and walk out of his room, turning back to smile at him one last time before you went into the kitchen. Coriolanus feels good. You always make him feel like a man. A man who deserves everything he gets. A smart man who knows how to obtain power and keep it. And you’re so loyal to him. So caring as his woman should be. Attentive to his needs and desires. Yet, you still have much to prove.
Coriolanus was anticipating tonight for many reasons. The prize money that was finally his, to show to his peers at the Academy, and to an extent, Panem. To show that he is living up to his family name. That he was in fact not a poor hungry boy anymore and that this was just the beginning of his many fames and fortunes. Yet, another thought lingered in the back of the blonde headed boy’s mind. You. And how you would behave tonight. You’re not “bratty” per se, but it was no lie you had a fiery side to you, which Coriolanus was cautious of. You could be bold, and it was no lie you had an intimidating aura that surrounds you. Similar to Coriolanus and you appreciate the civility of your class. You know what’s expected of you in the high society of the Capital. So tonight, Coriolanus expects it to be a night where you could really prove yourself to him. Show him how ready you are to stand by his side and unequivocally show support as he takes his rightful first steps into power. He is ready.
As the day went by, the anticipation for dinner flooded his thoughts. Soon he would be in the possession of the most sought after wealth in all of Panem. It would be all his. Too bad high as a kite, Casca Highbottom, wasn’t here to witness it all go down. Coriolanus would have liked it if he had at least witnessed the moment he won the prize. Even though the announcement of the prize money came before his death, it would have been nice to shove it in his face. Meanwhile, in the reality of the lab, Coriolanus kept his head down in his work. He didn’t quite care much for getting hands-on in experiments, but as one Dr. Gaul’s personal favorite, Coriolanus was able to avoid such work and stick to research. He was a much better writer anyways.
“Snow! How are you my boy?” Dr. Gaul’s voice rings out as she walks toward him
“Doing well.”
“It’s a big day.” She hisses and Coriolanus nods
“Yes. I’m looking forward to this evening.” He agrees
“Much anticipated. I hope to meet the lovely woman I keep seeing accompanying you these days. She’s no Lucy Grey is she?”
Coriolanus pauses for a moment to gather himself and his anger with a half hearted chuckle.
“Well that’s because she’s not a means to an end this time Dr. Gaul.” He smirks, “I think you’ll find her to be charming.”
“Charming.” She repeats and walks off
Dr. Gaul was not wrong about you being no Lucy Gray, but that’s not why she was bringing his past up. Coriolanus knew it was meant to get under his skin. A way to remind him of that summer. The games and the girl he left behind. Coriolanus thought he had loved her, but once she got back to twelve, she was back to singing about her old lover and Coriolanus knew that she had played him as smoothly as her guitar. So he blocked her out, forgot about her and cleaned up her loose ends, which included taking care of Highbottom as soon as the games had ended. Then, with a new found sense of confidence he decided it was time to settle a long lasting urge. You. You had always been in his view. A long standing school boy crush that he could never quite seem to shake. You were perfect for him too. Your family had been historic in Panem. One of the few heirs of a family lineage that used to be famous back before Panem came to power. Coriolanus didn’t feel as if he was good enough back when you were schoolmates so he considered you to be an unattainable fantasy until he had more power and wealth. Yet, Lucy Gray had enchanted him, drawn his eyes away from you like a siren and he crashed his ship. He fell into a whirlwind of emotions he had never felt before, but it was all a lie.
The week after the games, Coriolanus took matters into his own hands. After his last encounter with Highbottom, he sought you out. And of course you said yes. How could you not say yes to his confession of love and off the heels of his victory? So tonight, he would show that not only was he over Lucy Gray, but he would be showing you off and he only hopes you wouldn’t make a fool of him. The announcement of his courtship of you had become semi-public, but most of Panem was still curious as to how the young Snow was holding up now that “his girl” was back in twelve. He would show them and he would show you.
As he dresses for this evening, he tries not to maul over Dr. Gaul’s words.
She’s no Lucy Gray…She’s no Lucy Gray…She’s no-
Coriolanus curses himself to shut up. He feels shameful for not flooding his thoughts with anything but you. You and your perfect body. Your elegant curves, your soft skin. Coriolanus tried to imagine you on his bed, your beautiful body spread completely naked for him. Since taking you as his own, Coriolanus had not found time for you and him to be together in that way. He wants you. He wants you bare beneath him, hands trailing your sides as you whimper and whine for him to give you more. And, oh how pretty you would look as he ravished and lapped up your wetness. Better yet, how pretty would you look on your knees, mouth agape and ready. Your glossy lips, so ready for him. His imagination seizes as soon as he hears a tapping at the door.
“Hey. Oh wow….” Tigris exclaims “Oh Coryo look at you!”
He looks back at her. Tigris is as equally well dressed as he. It’s clear she made her own dress tonight, a simple long sleeve, navy dress, with gold embroidery on the sleeve. Coriolanus turns to look at himself in the mirror. Slicking his hair back, he admires himself in his all black suit. Tigris approaches him, brushes off and lint from his shoulders, and pins a white rose to his lapel. He smiles and nods at her.
“Thank you. I wouldn’t have thought to add it.”
“Oh I would. Didn’t you see the inside of your jacket? She asks
Coriolanus had noticed that Tigris had modified his evening jacket with a sublet white stitching pattern, but hadn’t taken a close enough look. He pulls it back. Little white rose. So little and intricate it was practically hidden in plain sight.
“Always such clever craftsmanship, cousin.” He beams
“Oh Coryo” she sighs “You look so much like your father.”
Coriolanus smiles, once again admiring his handsome features and how good he looks with the new touches to his suit.
“Thank you. I wouldn’t be here without you and the Grandma’am.” He remarks not knowing what else to say
“Don’t sell yourself short. We’re so proud of you Coryo. I know that's cheesy but I had to say it before the night got away from us.”
Tigris leaves to help the Grandma’am get ready and Coriolanus lets his driver know he’s ready to go. They drive to your house, and Coriolanus is taken aback when he finally sees you. Your sleek, velvet dress hugs your body so perfectly. The back dips low and the front shows just enough cleavage to tease. And you have adorned yourself with beautiful silver jewelry. A necklace with a line pendant leading to your cleavage, several bracelets, and small hoop earrings.
Coriolanus keeps his hand deliberately on your thigh as you and him make your way to The University, where the dinner is being held. He glances over at you, and admires your soft features. The dip in your collarbone looks so inviting to kiss, your neck and jawline shaped perfectly by the sliver. You look so flawless, so ideal and to his liking, but Coriolanus was cautious with his compliments. He had told you that you look beautiful when he saw you, but that was all for now. If you behave as exceptionally as you look, then he’d be sure to reward you. As the grand pillars of The University draw closer into view, Coriolanus squeezes your thigh. You look over at him, smiling and he trails his fingers across your jaw. You desperately want to kiss him, so you lean in. He gives you a few small pecks on your lips and you smile. He gives you one last peck before pulling back. The car comes to a slow stop and you look out the window at the entryway to The University.
“Are you ready?” Coriolanus asks and you nod.
He exits the vehicle and pulls around to open your door. You step out of the car, taking the extended hand out to you. You and him walk inside and your stomach flutters. You feel nervous, not wanting to displease your boyfriend on one of his most important nights. You smooth out your dress and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Coriolanus takes hold of your hand and you both walk into the venue. The entrance is adorned with white and gold banners, with rope lights hanging from the ceiling. There are round tables scattering the floor and a long table in the back of the room. Coriolanus ushers you both to the long table. Several heads turn as you and him walk up. The faint whispers and admiration swirls in the air around you. Once at the table, Coriolanus pulls up a seat for you.
Next to you, is Sejanus Plinth with the rest of the Plinth family. He waves to you and Coriolanus. You take it upon yourself to dive into conversation with him, seemingly unaware of how you are ignoring your boyfriend. He snakes a hand finger the table and onto your thigh. It causes you to glance over momentarily, you pause, smile at him, then soon return to your conversation with Sejanus. Soon enough, posca and wine is being served and Coriolanus takes a flute of posca off a server tray. You take a flute of champagne in contrast and so does Sejanus. Why are you drinking champagne with Sejanus and not posca with him? Are you trying to get drunk? Are you trying to get him drunk? Coriolanus decides to finally insert himself into the conversation and get your attention back. As he’s about to speak, Tigris and the Grandma’am make their arrival and sit next to him.
“Are we late?” Tigris asks
“No uh- you’re fine, you’re fine” he starts “darling why don’t we go make our way around the room?” He announces, turning to you suddenly. He takes your hand, stands up, and takes you off with him in no particular direction. You tell Sejanus that you’ll talk to him in a bit, which makes Coriolanus’s blood boil. He takes you to a group of students who you had never met. His hand finds the small of your back as he makes small talk with your fellow soon to be University classmates. You have never met Coriolanus friends and was almost certain he didn’t have any besides Sejanus. You find it curious at this moment then, why he has pulled you away to talk to who you always assumed were mere acquaintances. You occasionally glance at him, then around the room, hoping to see if you can politely excuse yourself to catch up with your own friends. He notices your inattentiveness, lightly squeezing on your hip whenever your eyes are drawn away from him and his company for too long.
You soon spot a girl from your book club and excuse yourself to go greet her. Coriolanus masks his disapproval in your decision and begrudgingly lets you go off. He continues his facade and turns his attention back to his group of peers. They are all very interested in him, yet Coriolanus couldn’t be less interested in them. They ask him questions about what he plans to do with his prize money, besides going to The University, and too many questions about the games.
She’s no Lucy Gray
The words echo in his mind again.
He glances at you, still chatting with your friend. He half mindedly answers another question about his plans to study politics, trying to refocus his attention back to the group. He was fuming on the inside and his need for politeness traps him to the spot. The small talk was getting to him. He didn’t expect to have to stand here and entertain these people for so long. After all he was only using them as a means to get you away from Sejanus, who unbeknownst to Coriolanus, is making his way back to you.
You, on the other hand, are finally enjoying yourself. Feeling free from the confines of your role as Coriolanus’s date. Even though your romantic relationship has only spanned the course of a few weeks, the expectations to be Coriolanus’s girlfriend has been challenging. His new found wealth, victory, and fame has set everything off. His attitude has changed, his image of himself, and the idea that he belongs on top has become the driving force of his life. You had a feeling that Coriolanus used to be much softer, more gentle, and more vulnerable. Now, you got this new side of him and you barely even knew what he was like before all this. He’s such a mystery to you. Your attention refocuses as Sejanus makes his way to you and your friend. You include him in the conversation, happy to be talking to one of the few people in the Capital who seem to be above the pomp and circumstance. Coriolanus is perfect for you, but he was a traditionalist and upheld the many social rules the Capitol citizens had manufactured. As did you, and you knew your place, but weren’t found if it. Having someone like Sejanus around made you feel less alone in your feelings. You let out a small laugh as Sejanus makes conversation with you which Coriolanus manages to pick up on.
He whips around to look at you. There you are, giggling like a pathetic little school girl at Sejanus. Didn’t you get the point? Why the hell are you trying to embarrass him like this? Coriolanus abruptly excuses himself. He swipes two glasses of posca and bee lines for you.
“Here my love. I notice your glass is empty.” He barges forward, taking the empty champagne flute from your hand and replacing it with the posca glass.
“Thank you dear.” You smile trying to mask the confusion you feel about his seemingly on edge behavior tonight. Coriolanus consciously sips on his own posca, looking at Sejanus. Senjanus however, is none the wiser. He gives Coriolanus a goofy smile, which sends his hand trailing down to clutch your hip. He rubs his thumb lightly against you, and you take a drink from your own glass, feeling slightly put off.
“I was going to make our way back to our seats before dinner is officially served. I think your father has a speech prepared for tonight.” He nods to Sejanus, before dragging you back to the table
“Coryo?!” You whisper, your confusion drawing to a peak and your frustration taking over.
Coriolanus stays silent, throwing fake smiles towards people as you make your way to the front of the room. He grips your hand, and you reclaim your seat. He glances at you, sneering slightly. You find Tigris’s face to see if she has picked up on his mood and of course she has. She gives you a concerning look, yet shakes her head as if she’s confused. You’re not sure if you find it reassuring or feel more worried.
“Coryo? Is there something wrong?”
“Later.” He sneered harshly
Just then, Dr. Gaul approaches the table. Coriolanus taps your leg, indicating for you to stand and greet her.
“Hello again Mr. Snow.”
“Dr. Gaul” he smiles and introduces you to her.
“Yes, I’m familiar with your family history. What an honor it must be to have such a name. I’m sad I never got to have you as my student. ”
“It’s a true honor” you lie, you could care less about your name and the history behind it to live a normal life.
“Well Mr. Snow you certainly are lucky to have such a pleasant date night.” She smirks, sounding as if she is revolted by your existence, but masks it well enough to toe the line.
You fake a smile and look at Coriolanus, holding his shoulder with pride.
“Yes we are having a wonderful evening too.”
“How nice. A word before dinner, Snow?”
Coriolanus nods and follows Dr. Gaul. Meanwhile Sejanus scoots closer to you to re-engages in conversation. Dr. Gaul leads Coriolanus to the bar where she orders a glass of posca.
“I just got word of an opportunity I wanted to tell you about.”
“Of course.”
“Would you, instead of mentoring this year’s hunger games, want to take a chance at playing game maker?”
“Game maker? You think I should.”
“You’re a wonderfully, brilliant boy Coriolanus. I can see so much more in Your ideas in your final semester essay that tells me everything I need to know. Think about it and if you write a decent enough application it’s yours.”
“Well thank you Dr. Gaul for letting me know. I will definitely be considering it.”
“Good. And oh your date…she’s very lovely. I see you two working well together…”
“I’m glad you found her charming then.”
“Oh…no Mr. Snow. Not quite yet, but she certainly seems to be charming the young Mr. Plinth over there.”
Coriolanus turns back around to see Senjanus cozying back up to you. He contains his anger as he excuses himself back to you, making sure to thank Dr. Gaul for presenting him the opportunity of game maker. He rushes back to his seat, squeezing in while you are still mid-conversation with Sejanus. He squeezes your thigh. The rest of the evening feels tense. Eventually, Strabo Plinth made a speech about the importance of Academic pursuits and ambitions. He mentioned the games, Coriolanus’s victory and what it meant to be an exemplary Panem citizen above all else. As he talks, Coriolanus is locked into every word, but makes sure to keep you in his sight. You too are locked in, your hand on top of your boyfriend’s thigh, squeezing it occasionally. Little do you know that for so many reasons at this moment, Coriolanus is still angry, but also turned on. Fueled by jealousy over Sejanus, but the words of Strabo’s speech in combination with your hand on him, was making his cock hard.
Despite embarrassing him earlier in the night, you now sat there beautifully by his side. You seem attentive and engaged, and the physical touch is all he needs to know that you’re there. He shifts in his seat and stands as Strabo calls him up to receive the prize. You stand with him, ever so proud. He kisses you, then walks up, shaking Strabo’s hand as he takes the velvet red envelope with the check for the prize money in hand. You tune everything out and focus on the gorgeous man in front of you. Even though you’re still somewhat confused, you can’t help but admire him like this. Confident and on the verge of greatness. His expression screams that nothing will stand in his way.
As the evening wraps up, Coriolanus finds himself wrapped in so many conversations he is starting to feel like a broken record. He stands not too far from you as you talk to Tigris.
“Was he nervous at home? Before he picked me up?” You ask
“No. I’m not quite sure what’s gotten into him to be honest dear. All the excitement perhaps.He seems better now that he has the award.
You sign, shrugging your shoulders. Sejanus returns back to his seat with two glasses of posca in his hand.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
“Perhaps one last one” you smirk
“Is everything ok?” He asks
“Yes. I’m enjoying the evening just…you’re close with Coryo…do you notice he’s acting on edge?”
“Slightly yeah. I’m not sure why.”
“Me either…” you hang your head and take a sip of your drink.
As if he was summoned by the mere mention of his name, he is standing behind you. You look up at him with innocent eyes and set your glass down.
“I’m ready to go. People are starting to leave.” He murmurs, holding his hand out. He bids Tigris a goodbye, promising to see her at home and gives the Grandma’am a kiss on the cheek goodbye, thanking them both for coming. Once in the car, Coriolanus is consumed in his emotions. His leg shakes furiously as he looks out the window. He hides part of his face with his mouth and ignores you. You roll up the driver partition and place a hand on his shaking leg.
“Coryo, please what’s wrong, love?”
He takes a deep breath and looks further into the window. You touch his shoulder and he turns to you.
“You really would rather be with Sejanus” He snaps
“What?”
“I saw you around him. He’s not bad looking, I get it, he’s innocent right. Is that the appeal? Innocent little privileged district boy.”
“Coryo…you can’t be serious?”
“The future First Lady of Panem. Acting like you can flirt around and embarrass me. Tonight of all nights…” he mumbles not loud enough for you to hear.
When the car stops, it isn’t your house it pulls up to. Coriolanus exits the vehicle and swings around to open your door. You get out and he trails behind you. Once in his house he storms into the kitchen, and pours himself a glass of whiskey. He takes a sip and removes his sports coat, placing it on the back of a chain. You tentatively follow him, still keeping your distance. His back is turned to you, his chest rising and falling.
“He’s a friend.”
“He’s my friend too, but I wasn’t hanging around him all night.” He rolls his eyes
“Can I not make conversation with him? I support you through and through, but those types of events are so much. I’ve never enjoyed them, but I went for you.”
“And embarrassed me. Couldn’t you see him flirting with you. Getting you drinks, making you laugh. It was pathetic really.” He snaps, downing his whiskey and pouring himself another. Dr. Gaul sure noticed. Thought I was a fucking cuckhold. Now she thinks I can’t even hold my women down.”
“She said that?”
“She didn’t have to say anything. She saw you.” He huffs
“He’s nothing to me ok Coriolanus! You think I’d rather be with someone who still calls their mother Ma?” You bark back
Coriolanus looks at you for a moment and pauses. Then, he strides towards you, capturing your face, locking his lips with your own. It was the last thing you’d expect of him. As he moves his lips against yours, passion and hunger overtaking his mind. Feeling even more confused than at the dinner, you pull away and look at him. He pants, clearly needy for more.
“I don’t understand?”
“You think he’s beneath you?”
“I well…he’s not you. I’d rather have the boy with the prize than the boy whose namesake it belongs to.”
Coriolanus pulls you closer to him, he hooks his finger along the front line of your dress, his other hand cups your ass.
“And do you know who you belong to?” He sneers
“Y-y-you…”
“Good girl”
He pulls you back to him, his forehead pressing against yours. He pinches your chin, lets out a small smirk and kisses you again. He gropes your ass harshly, landing a fat smack. You yelp in surprise.
“I bet Sejanus just wishes he could feel you like this.”
“Coryo…”
“Shh it’s ok baby. He wants you. He wants you so bad, but he can’t have you….” He noted, grinding his crotch against you. “No he can’t. Because who do you belong to again?”
You close your eyes and rest your forehead again, his nodding, barely able to speak as your mind turns to jelly.
He grips your chin and cheeks, smooshing your face. “Look at me. Who. Do. You..belong to?”
“You” you whimper
He gives you a few light, little slaps to the face.
“That’s right you belong to me. Not Sejanus. You’re mine.”
You nod and he lets go of his grip on your face. He’s hungry for you, it's clear. His lust filled eyes are dark and needy.
“D-do you want to hurt me? Am I being punished?
“No baby, of course I don’t want to actually hurt you…” he coos, chucking slightly “but I think you need to be put in your place a little. Let me ask you something? Do you want to be First Lady of Panem? Stand by my side from this day and help me rise to the top? You want it too don’t you?” He chuckles
He wasn’t wrong. Despite your distaste for your family’s fame and history, to stand by Coriolanus’s side. It would be a dream. You had been fond of him for a while, but like Coriolanus, you thought it was too good to be true. You nod your head at his question and in response he wraps his hand under your chin.
“Tell me” he demands
“Yes, Coyro. I do.”
He pulls you in for another kiss, soft lips landing harshly against yours. He fights for dominance and you give in, letting his mouth consume your own. He pushes his tongue in, swirling it with yours. He breaks from the kiss to start attacking your neck. He nibbles and kisses down your throat, causing you to elicit a soft moan from your lips. He smirks against your skin, causing you to shutter.
“Coyro…a-a-are you sure you want out first time to be like this?”
“Yes doll, especially after tonight.” He hisses
“I-I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” You stutter
“I know and that’s exactly why I need to show you how to act. By showing you first who you belong to. To show you’re mine.
He dives for your neck, lips trailing down your skin.
“Do you not want me talking to anyone but you then?”
“No my dear, I just can’t have you making a fool of yourself anymore by letting men like Sejanus flirt with you. And once I mark you up a little…” he pauses, his hand coming up to cup under your chin. He rubs his thumb along the base of it. “They’ll know to back off.”
Coriolanus’s words sink in as harshly into you as his teeth do as he nibbles down on your neck. He sucks and bites, leaving beautiful wine red marks on you. He pulls back momentarily to admire his work. He lets out a soft sigh, pleased with himself. He trails his fingers around the spots he marked up and smirks. He dives back in, licking a long, broad stripe up your neck, and up to your ear. You whimper some more, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to drip. His hands snake down to cup your ass, he wants to carry you to his bedroom. He moves his arms to lift your legs around his waist. He hoists you up, causing your dress to ride up your thighs. You let out a soft yelp of surprise. He smacks your ass, causing you to let out a more clear squeal. He starts to move towards his bedroom, holding you tightly against his chest. You cling to him, your lips finding his neck and you place a few cautious kisses.
Once in his bedroom he flops you down on the bed, you gasp. Looking up at him, you shutter in excitement, but still feeling fearful. He notices, smirking at you again
“It’s ok my pet, be a good girl for me?” He demands, his tone a warning
You nod and he clicks his tongue at you.
“Tsk…” he has a seat at the edge of the bed. He pulls your ankles towards him, your ass sliding over his hips and settling onto his crotch. He pushes your dress further up your body and over your head. You grunt, arching your back. He tosses the dress on the ground, his hand touches you again, fingers trailing down your figure slowly. He admires you for a moment. Then, with a devilish grin taking over his handsome features, he squeezes your thigh and tosses it across your body. Laying on your stomach in anticipation, you feel exposed. He rolls up his sleeves, then rubs his hand over your ass. He readjusts your lacy black panties to expose more of your butt to him and he lands a firm slap on you. You squirm and yelp, his other hand holds you back down as he gives you another slap to the ass. He grips your hair, forcing your cheek up to his nose.
“I like good girls who know how to use their words. Now when I ask you something I want you to use your words. Got it?”
“Yes..” you whimper
He rubs your ass, his hand moving in slow, soft, big circles.
Slapslapslap
“Yes sir?”
“Yes sir” you bite your lip
Coriolanus proceeds to slap your ass over and over again, each cheek getting redder and redder. He gropes and massages you at the same time, making sure to occasionally dip his fingers over your clothed cunt and rub slowly. Each time you would try not to squirm, but it’s nearly impossible not to. He spreads your legs a little to gain better access to your pussy. Coriolanus moves your panties aside, spits on his hand, then dips his fingers into your aching slit. You cry out in surprise, landing you a fast, sharp slap this time.
“Don’t act surprised. Don’t act like you didn’t expect it. Any of it. Keep being my good girl and tell me who you belong to again…” he growls
“Y-you sir.”
Slap
“Again” he demands
“You. I belong to you Coriolanus.”
He gives you another slap, smiles to himself, then snakes his hand under your stomach through the back of your legs. He lifts you up as he stands, turning around and placing you on the bed, ass up, ready for him. You look behind you and watch him as he unbuckles his belt. You bite your lip in anticipation as he pulls his pants down, bringing his boxers with him. You gasp as you watch his cock spring out. He notices you staring and moves his hand to your hair. He shoves your face into the pillows.
“This isn’t for you to enjoy tonight. Another night we will do this properly, I’ll let you touch me, kiss me, but tonight, I’m in control.”
He moves your panties to the side and you bury your face into the mattress, forcing yourself to muffle your moans as his thick member spreads your core. He leaves you no time to let you adjust and he trusts in you, every so often slapping your ass. He doesn’t let up, chasing his pleasure like prey. You turn your head to breathe, gasping as he practically shoves you into the mattress.
“I’ll treat you how you deserve next time. I promise you my sweet. Because next time I know you won’t act up. Right. You won’t let Sejanus flirt with you.
“Yes sir” you squeal
“Ooooh goood girrrl” he purrs speeding up
The lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your pussy fills the entire room, along with your cries of pleasure. It only encourages him to grab your hair tighter. Tangling it up in his fingers, he pulls you close to him. He starts to fuck up into you like a toy and all you can do is take it. Your mind is numb, brain all fucked out.
“Seems like you know your place now hmm. Are you going to obey me, my love? Not flirt and flaunt around like a common whore?”
“N-no sir”
“Because this is how a common whore is treated. They get treated like a little naughty play thing. Like the filthy little sluts they are.” He snarls
He pounds into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever fuck you. His deliberate, hard thrusts are almost too much to bare and you feel your orgasm creep up on you. All the sudden, you clench and spasm around him. You cum hard, harder than you expect. He whispers continuously praises of “good girl” over and over until he finally finishes, dumping his thick seed into your hole. He fills you up, pulling out slowly and watching as his cum drips out of you. He admires you, his middle finger rubbing up your folds, and into you, shoving the cum back inside you. He pats your ass and you lower yourself. He strips himself of the rest of his clothes, crawling next to you on the bed. He leans against the headboard and you flip over, curling up to him.
“I promise next time it will be sweeter. I just can’t let you get away with that behavior and now…” he kisses your temple “you never will..”
“I promise I won’t let Sejanus flirt with me again.”
“Good. I’ll make sure to send my own message to him.” He smirks, his fingers dancing around your sore neck
“Coryo!” You exclaim in fear
“Shh baby it’s ok. He won’t get hurt, just tuck his tail and run home to his Ma” Coriolanus chuckles, his mocking tone making you laugh a little
“I promise I won’t let him do that again” you nod
“That’s my girl…now get on your knees.” He insists and you nod.
You crawl onto the floor, ushering yourself in between his legs.
“Mouth open, tongue out.” He instructs
You obey and look up at him. You flatten your tongue against your bottom lip and open wide. He coos at you, rubbing his length across your face, teasing his tip along parted lips. Then he pushes in, causing you to gag.
“Fucking suck it.”he sneered
You nod and bob your head, getting his cock nice and wet.
“Oh there you go.”
He holds the back of your head, moving his hips as you take more of him into your mouth. He bites his lip harshly, grunting aggressively. His cock hits the back of your throat over and over and over again. He pulls away for a moment, watching in awe as a line of saliva trails from your lips to the tip of his dick. He wipes it up, sticking his thumb in your mouth. Your lips wrap around it and suck. He smiles at you, slapping your face again. Your eyes water, small tears falling down your cheek from the sting of the pain. But you like this. You liked his dominance in a way that you didn’t expect or realize.
“You’re pretty. Do you like this cock in your mouth?
“Yes sir.”
“Yes Daddy?”
“Yes Daddy.” You nod and he shoves himself back into your mouth.
He lets out a long, staggering moan. He moves his hips more slowly this time, watching your little mouth stretch around him. He pulled away the way out, taking his length in his hand and slapping against your lips. He continues to let his greed overtake him, moving his balls close to your face. You suck them into your mouth and he let out a loud groan.
“Oh fuck you know how to make me feel amazing don’t you baby. S’good for me” he tosses his head back.
Your lips feel so soft and perfect around his cock it makes him want to bust again. You stroke him as you continue sucking on his balls, feeling that he’s close again. With a few more strokes, he finishes. He holds your chin and pressed the tip to your lips. You part them and let the white sticky cum paint the inside of your throat.
“Ohmygod baby girl…fuck look at you.” He pants and you swallow his load. It wasn’t as heavy going down your throat and you take it down with a loud gulp. He tilts your face up to look at him, his blue eyes clouded with lust.
“Have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes Coriolanus”
“Good. Next time you’ll get what you actually deserve.”
You nodded, feeling fucked out and spent. You continue to nod and he pulls you up, kisses you fiercely, some of his cum pressing onto his lips.
He pulled away, whipping it off his lips and shoving it into your mouth.
“Yeah, you learn quickly don’t you. You’ll make a great First Lady.” He whispered
“I hope to be”
“Good. I think you will be. If you continue to learn like you do, this life will be easy on you pet”
⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙
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110 notes · View notes
sidekick-hero · 3 hours
Text
On top of the world
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, prompt 'graduation' | 616 words | tags: fix it, Steve is a sweetheart and takes care of Eddie, first kiss
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Before March 21st, Eddie would have said not graduating again was the worst thing that could happen to him. Now, Eddie knows better.
Nothing like almost dying to put things into perspective, right?
He misses the days when his biggest worry was convincing old witch O'Donnell to give him a "D" and let him leave Hawkins High. Now that he knows what a real hellhole looks like, he thinks he could survive another year under Higgins' thumb.
Still, he doesn't exactly mind when Nancy comes over to his and Wayne's new house—part of the government deal the kids cut for him while he was in a coma—to tell him that he's going to graduate with his class.
He doesn't question it either, just whoops enthusiastically enough to almost pull his stitches, which hurts but has the added bonus of Steve putting his big hands all over him to check his numerous healing wounds.
A week on the run and fighting interdimensional monsters with the guy has changed Eddie's perspective on what’s the best thing that could happen to him as well.
On graduation day, he walks across the stage with a cane for support, something he hadn’t thought possible. It was Steve who had made that happen, even if he refused to accept Eddie's praise. The moment Eddie had muttered under his breath after Nancy had left, ‘But how am I supposed to walk the fucking stage if I can't even go to the bathroom without taking a break?' Steve was a man on a mission.
They practiced every day, before or after Steve's work helping out at the hospital. They needed every helping hand they could get after the damage Vecna and the Upside Down monsters had caused. Eddie could attest to how wonderful Steve's hands were at helping. In fact, he could write songs about it once his hands stopped shaking whenever he held a pencil (or anything, really) for too long.
Eddie wondered if every one of Steve's patients was as in love with him as he was.
As Eddie snags his diploma from Higgins, who looks like he bit into a particularly bitter lemon, Eddie marvels that flipping him the bird isn’t as exhilarating as expected.
Maybe that’s because of last night and the way Steve’s lips felt on his. Every moment since then simply pales in comparison.
Steve had come over after another shift at the hospital, probably sore and exhausted, but giving Eddie one of his dazzling smiles that always made him weak in the knees. Which was kind of counterproductive, considering what they were trying to accomplish here.
They were both trying so hard but Eddie’s legs just wouldn’t cooperate. No matter what Steve tried, they buckled after a few steps, forcing Eddie to sit down or fall down. He had made progress, the muscles in his legs slowly coming back, but three weeks had been too short.
Or so he thought.
Eddie doesn’t know how or why, but this time, Steve had simply positioned himself as far away from Eddie as possible and spread his arms as wide as his smile. “I got you, Eds. I’ll never let you fall. If you can’t trust in yourself just yet, trust in me.”
He had, believing that those strong arms would wrap around him if he stumbled.
He didn’t stumble, didn’t fall, but wrap around him they did anyway. Steve had picked him up and twirled him around, and then he’d kissed him, grinning mouth to grinning mouth.
Eddie might not have graduated top of his class, but he sure feels like he’s on top of the world when he catches Steve’s eye among the cheering group of his friends.
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padfootagain · 16 hours
Text
Only an Almost (XIV)
Chapter 14: Heartbreak
Hi! Here comes a new chapter!
Alright, buckle up! We’re up for a wild ride! We are reaching the heights of the angsty mess, from this chapter all the way to chapter 17. Is our girl going to be an asshole? Yes, I’m afraid she’s about to fuck up big time...
Apologies for all the damage that is about to be made in this chapter.
It’s also the first chapter I wrote for this fic! It all started with this mess…
I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!
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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU
Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!
Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.
Word Count : 3450
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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It was 11pm, which was early for a night owl such as Andrew, but late for his friends. Neither Sam nor Daphne were nocturnal creatures, and so Andrew answered his phone in a hurry when Sam’s name appeared on the screen. Something had to be wrong. He suddenly wondered where he had put his car keys, in case he needed to leave in a hurry.
“Hello? Andy? It’s me. It’s Sam.”
“Yeah, I know, are you alright?” he asked with worry making his voice deeper than usual, pausing the tv-show he was watching, lounging on his comfortable sofa.
“Yeah, yeah…”
“It’s 11pm, is there something wrong? Is Daphne okay?”
“What? Oh, no! Don’t worry, we’re both fine!”
Andrew heaved a relieved sigh.
“God, don’t scare the shit out of me like that ever again…”
“Did I wake you? I thought you never went to sleep before dawn.”
“Vampires tend to do that indeed.”
“Whose blood did you drink this week?”
Andrew wanted to answer, but he heard Daphne pestering Sam about not having much time, and he merely frowned instead.
“Right… sorry, darling…” Sam mumbled through the phone. “Are you alone, Andy?”
“Erm… yes…?”
“Okay, erm… it’s… it’s about Y/N.”
Andrew sat straighter this time.
“Y/N? Is she okay? Did something happen?”
“No, no… I mean… she’s fine, but…”
“For fuck’s sake, Sam! Spit it out! What’s going on?”
“Look I… I know that you said that I couldn’t tell Daphne about you and Y/N… but Y/N told her, so we’ve talked about you two together…”
Andrew rolled his eyes, lying back down, resting his head on the armrest of the couch.
“It’s alright, Sam… I knew you’d break it to her sooner or later anyway.”
“No, Andy… look… have you talked to Y/N lately?”
Andrew frowned.
“Erm… I don’t know… about… three days ago. Why?”
“I think you should talk to her.”
“Why? Sam, what is it?”
There was a short silence, while the couple exchanged a glance, no doubt.
“Daphne thinks she might take a terrible decision,” Sam answered.
“What kind of decision? What are you talking about?”
Andrew was growing annoyed at this game of riddles. If something was wrong, he ought to know what it was…
But even if he insisted some more, Sam refused to speak.
“Just… call her, and tell her you love her. Tell her to choose you.”
“’Choose’ me? What do you mean?”
“Just… do it tomorrow, will you?”
“Alright, alright. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“Good… good…”
When he hung up, Andrew stared at the ceiling for a while.
Choose me?
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Andrew didn’t need to call you the next day. You were the one to call, and ask him if he was free tonight. You didn’t offer an activity, like you usually would: a movie on Netflix, the cinema, a walk, going to the beach, eating together… There was little ambiguity to the reason behind your demand, and Andrew wasn’t sure whether he was flattered or vexed by it.
He warned you that he wanted to talk to you about something tonight though, and you agreed. You had something to ‘discuss’ with him too. His heart dropped as you spoke those words through the phone. It ought to be some kind of bad news. Or maybe not. Maybe he was reading too much into this, and you meant… to talk about the upcoming wedding, or your job, or… something else entirely. He wondered if you knew that he meant to tell you that he felt more for you than what he had let on.
He parked his car in front of your house, but didn’t climb out just yet. First, he ran through his speech one last time.
I know that you are not looking for a relationship at the moment. But I want more than just sex when it comes to you. To us. Our arrangement can’t go on like this. Again, I understand that you are not in a position now where you want to be in a relationship. And that’s okay. If you tell me that you could give us a chance, I will wait for you. I’ll wait until you’re ready, until your job is more stable and you’ve figured things out in your life. I’ll wait until you want a relationship with me. I have feelings for you, feelings that go beyond a casual fling. And that’s the reason why I’m asking you now to give me a chance. To give us a proper chance…
No l-word yet, you might freak out if he used it. But this speech seemed good enough. Short, to the point. He had written six versions of it this morning.
He took a deep breath, before finally climbing out of his car and walking up to your house.
You were quick to unlock your door and welcome him in. You looked lovely tonight. But then, you were always beautiful…
You went through some meaningless chit-chat while Andrew took off his coat and shoes and followed you down the hall to your kitchen.
You offered him tea without asking if he wanted one. It was late afternoon, but not quite dinner time yet. He could have used some alcohol, but it would have been impolite to ask for some, so he thanked you when you handed him his favourite mug with two teabags plunged in warm water. He leaned against your kitchen counter, his back to your tiny window and your sink while you were facing him, a couple of steps away.
“You… you wanted us to talk about something,” Andrew reminded you, taking a sip of the warm beverage. “And I wanted to talk to you too, so… who should start?”
You were growing nervous, the signs were obvious. In your modern kitchen, there was a window above the sink that let in some golden light. The photons embraced your form, in a way that made Andrew’s heart skip a few beats.
You pushed back some hair behind your ear, pulled on the sleeves of your jumper. Andrew frowned at the sight.
“You’re alright? I can start…”
“No, I… I reckon I should start.”
“Okay.”
He was nervous beyond reason and measure. Andrew dried his clammy palms on his jeans, tried to breathe deeply through his nose, but his heart kept on pounding and his stomach was turning into knots…
You stared at each other for a moment, him expectant and you hesitant. He raised an eyebrow as a silent encouragement for you to speak, but you merely bit on your lower lip.
But then you heaved a sigh, crossed the distance between your bodies in a hurry. Andrew barely had time to blink, and you had grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down to you while you rose to your tiptoes so you could slam your lips to his. But kissing you was a habit by now, and a delicious one too. Andrew’s body was reacting on instinct as he kissed you back, messy and passionate and breathtaking. Your teeth bumped into his in your passion, but he didn’t mind. It was easy to deepen the kiss instead, cradle your face in his hands while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, always closer.
You were making his brain short-circuit, despite the important talk he wanted to have with you. You were everywhere, blurring his senses, making all traces of reason disappear…
Only when he felt your fingers travel down his chest and towards his belt did he stop you, pulling away.
“Wait, wait… stop…”
You immediately took a step back, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“You’re okay?”
“Yeah… yeah… I… look, we… We wanted to talk, like… I think we should, erm, talk before we…”
“Or we can have sex, and talk after that.”
“Is that wise?”
“Do we really need to be wise?”
It was tempting. Too tempting to resist. God, he couldn’t think about anything else but your lips, how inviting they looked, how he wanted to kiss your neck too, he could feel his fingers tickle at the thought of touching all these places of your body, entire landscapes of bare skin…
He blinked a couple of times, struggled to swallow, trying to calm down. But blood was pulsing in his ears, and when he tried to remember his carefully-crafted speech, he couldn’t remember a word…
Fuck all of this…
“Alright,” he nodded. “But we talk tonight… cause it’s important…”
“Deal. Deal. Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes… God, yes, please… please, kiss me…”
You were back in his arms in a second, hands in his hair at first, while his travelled along your frame, from chest to hips and arse, feeling your shape through your clothes. You detached your lips from his to take his hand and guide him to your bedroom.
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“We should get dressed to talk,” Andrew proposed, his breathing finally settling back into a regular rhythm.
He threw his condom away in the tiny bean next to the door of your bathroom. He grabbed his underwear as he walked back to your bed and handed you your large jumper.
“You’re too beautiful not to be distracting,” he chuckled, only half-joking, while you put on the piece of garment he was giving you.
He noticed how you looked away, how you seemed uncomfortable, all of a sudden. Instead of joining you in bed once more, Andrew sat down on the edge of the mattress, right next to you.
“So… who should begin?” he asked, voice soft and a little timid. “I… like… actually, I think I should…”
“Andy, I… I think you should get dressed.”
He frowned at that remark, or rather… he frowned at the tone you used. Cold and distant, whispered, and your eyes were still fleeing his.
“Why? Am I distracting too?” he asked with a charming smile, forcing a chuckle out. But you didn’t laugh, merely brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.
Andrew’s nervous smile soon crumbled.
“Right,” he let out in a breath, blushing hard now, heart racing.
He grabbed his undershirt, slowly put it on while trying to swallow back the lump in his throat.
“Look, I… We should talk about… this arrangement of ours…” he started, but you interrupted him, blurting out words he wasn’t expecting so fast he second-guessed if he had heard you right.
“We need to stop sleeping together.”
He was half-bent to grab his pants when you spoke. He froze, looking up at you, cursing at his long hair when it fell before his eyes and hid you away. He stood back up in a jolt.
“What?”
“We… we need to stop this arrangement. Things have changed.”
And all of a sudden there was hope again, brighter than a sun and blinding every bit of reason in him… And he fell for it. No matter the odds, he fell for it, flew straight to it like a moth ready to be burned at the pyre of your flames…
“Right… things have changed for me too. So, actually, I do think that we need to change things between us…”
“I have a date next week.”
He froze again. Stared at you, too stunned to say a thing, too stunned to protest or ask any question or even comprehend what you were saying.
“I… I have a date with a coworker, Maggie. Next week. So… we should stop this… We said we would if we wanted to try something with someone else…”
A date? Next week? Maggie?
You… you wanted to date again… just… not him…
“But… we’ve just had sex,” breathed Andrew.
It sounded stupid and he knew it, and yet these were the only words he could summon now. The first that came to mind, the only protest he could find.
There were too many emotions all at once. It felt… like falling… falling forever… like the ground being stolen from under his feet. He had no air left in his lungs, and he had forgotten how to breathe.
“Yeah… it wasn’t planned. But I… I just… Maybe I shouldn’t have done that…”
His lip trembled, but his cheeks were still dry.
You were regretting him now?
“I think I just… wanted one last moment with you. Before we’d stop and I would date someone else.”
“So… you… you have a date?”
“Yes, I have a date with Maggie.”
“What do you mean, you have a date with Maggie? Who the fuck is Maggie?”
Andrew stared at you as he was about to cry, and he couldn’t help it. He blinked tears away, but they lingered at the edges of his eyes, ready to fall at your words.
“She’s nice. She works at HR, she’s a secretary. She asked me out, and… I don’t know, I said yes. So… I think we should stop this arrangement.”
“Oh…”
At long last, the information was being recorded in his brain. Andrew shook himself back to earth, turned around, fleeing you and your beautiful eyes, hurrying to put his trousers back on. He almost fell in the process, already looking for his shirt. He felt so exposed like this, so vulnerable, so flawed…
You were going on a date… with someone else… because you didn’t want to date him… he was the fucking problem. He was all along…
“I just… it was… good.”
He nodded, but didn’t let out a sound.
He couldn’t look at you. He would start crying if he did. He needed to run away as fast as he could…
“And she’s nice, you know? And… just… easy. Not like, easy to sleep with, but…”
“I understand.”
Of course, he did. Same argument all over again. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he?
But what if he dropped everything? What if he stopped touring? Stopped the whole music thing?
He thought about what you looked like right now, perfect and dishevelled and still gently glowing after the efforts of love-making. Absolutely perfect. Yeah… yeah… You deserved better than him, no matter the touring or the staying…
“Andy… are you angry?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t start acknowledging his feelings now. He would start crying if he did.
Where the fuck was his sock?
“I loved the nights we had together,” you went on, apparently unaware of the daggers each of your words planted through his heart, and for the first time in the long years the two of you had known each other, he wanted to stop hearing your voice.
You seemed to need to fill up the silence that Andrew was trying to maintain. Perhaps it was a way to reach out, perhaps it was a way to keep him at bay. He wasn’t certain about that.
“It was nice.”
Where was that fucking sock?!
“Andy?”
He put on his jumper, abandoning the thought of his black sock. He couldn’t lose any more time, he couldn’t breathe properly anymore…
“You’re okay? Can you say something?”
Silence. Only the rubbing of fabric against fabric as Andrew was getting ready to leave. He only had to grab his shoes and jacket in your hallway.
“Andy, wait!”
But he was already outside of your bedroom.
“You can’t be mad at me! We agreed about this, Andy! We agreed that… that… this was nothing but sex! It didn’t mean anything.”
He was blinded by tears when he reached for your doorknob, unlocking the door without seeing the keys he was turning in the lock.
“Andy! Where are you going? Stop! We need to talk about this!”
He shrugged you off when you reached for him.
“Andy!”
But then he was shutting the door behind him, his movement so harsh it shook the doorframe. He hurried to his car while he dried his eyes, refusing to crumble now, in the alley leading to your house.
He drove blindly, unaware of a destination, of a will behind the turns he took and the roads he chose. The words kept ringing in his ears, he couldn’t shut them out, they played on repeat in his busy mind…
This was nothing but sex.
It didn’t mean anything.
Did it not? The way you touched him, the way you kissed him, the way you held him… did it not mean something?!
His hold tightened on the wheel. His jaw clenched until it was painful, until he could hear it.
Nothing. The tenderness in your touch, the fondness in your gaze, the sighs on your lips. The way you held him after it was done, like you needed him to land again gently on the ground, like you held onto a dream before it faded. How you stared into his soul when you connected in the most intimate way possible. How you laughed together until none of you could breathe, how you talked for hours about the most meaningless things and the most intimate parts of your lives. How you let him be yours, how you almost let yourself be his…
Only an almost…
He parked the car before a house he had always called home, and it was only then that he realised where he was. He stared at the familiar door of his parents’ house, the curtains behind the windows, the light that came through them.
So, you had let him love you, and it meant nothing at all?
He turned off the engines, stared at the house for a suspended moment. What would he do now? He couldn’t possibly face you again after this. He was about to lose you for good; because after having a taste of what loving you felt like, he couldn’t go back to being a mere friend. No… no, he wasn’t strong enough for that. For seeing you happy with someone else, knowing that you held him close for a moment only to let him go, because he wasn’t enough.
He picked up his phone, ready to do something stupid, something he would regret the second his thumb would press send. He typed the text under your name.
If I gave up on touring, if I stayed home… would you give me a chance? Would I be enough if I weren’t just a ghost?
He heaved a sigh, resting his head against his seat, head tilted upwards in his exhale. He blinked tears away, staring at the dark ceiling of his car.
Did you really feel nothing now? Did it not hurt at all for you? Not even a little bit? Not at all?
Andrew didn’t press send. He deleted the text, opened the door, climbed out of the car and into the street bathed in an inky darkness and orange streetlights. His feet guided him to the safest place on Earth while he tugged his phone into his pocket. His right foot was hurting in his shoe without a sock on. He didn’t even notice.
It took his mother a moment to open the door, nothing surprising at this hour. She saw him through the glass of the backdoor, and her eyes grew round. Andrew finally noticed he was crying.
The door opened in a hurry, bumping into Raine’s foot in the process.
“Andy? Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
His lower lip trembled as he stared at his mother, hands digging further into his pockets, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His throat was too tight to speak.
“Honey, what’s wrong? Tell me. Tell me what’s wrong?”
She narrowed her eyes a little as she guessed, aiming straight for his heart.
“Is it Y/N?”
He opened his mouth to answer but all that he could let out was a sob. His legs were shaking, he could feel all of his strength leaving his body. He barely registered his own moevements as he bent into his mother’s arms, folding around her frame.
“Oh, Andy… here, it’s alright. It’s gonna be okay, darling. It’s okay. I’m here, I’m here…”
She rubbed his back, in this soothing movement that had never failed to appease him ever since he was a child. His voice was a hoarse whisper when he let out the most painful words he had ever pronounced.
“She doesn’t love me, mom. She doesn’t feel anything… What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do without her?”
She let him cry for a moment longer, his father calling from the living room to know who was at the door. Raine merely answered with her son’s name, and gently pushed him upwards so he would stand straighter again.
“Well, for a start, I’m going to make you a cup of tea, with a lot of honey. And then, we’ll figure out the rest.”
77 notes · View notes
orshii · 20 hours
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Did I cross the line?
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➼Author: orshii
➼Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader
➼Word count: 4 k
➼Summary: On Valentine's Day in Paris, a romantic trip with your boyfriend, takes a painful turn when unresolved feelings about his ex-girlfriend, who was once your best friend, resurface. Despite the love between you, the past threatens to tear you apart. Through heartfelt conversations, you confront your insecurities and reaffirm your commitment, realizing that to move forward, you must leave the past behind.
➼A/N: Well...here I am again with a Hongjoong drabble, and this little something was born because of Billie Eilish's new song. And it was completely inspired by it, so please please, listen to the song and pay attention to the lyrics so you will understand the story more. I just love it, it's such a beautiful song and I can't get it out of my mind...just as well Hongjoong haha...Anyway, I am not sure this is what I wanted, but this happened so enjoy! Byee...--also, sorry for any mistakes :'(... (divider)
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Things fall apart, and time breaks your heart, but it also heals your soul, allowing you to feel like a normal human on this chaotic Earth. It's much harder when you're alone, but if you find someone who is always by your side and supports you unconditionally, you become unstoppable. Nothing can come your way when they are next to you and cheering for you on the side to chase your dreams. When you find the mate of your soul, you think nothing can stop you from now on.
Except... sometimes, despite everything, you grow farther apart because of a tiny reason, turning what was once promising into something that couldn’t bloom or burn with passion.
This is the reason why I am crying in a hotel room in Paris, the city of love on Valentine’s Day, with my heart broken into thousands of pieces. How ironic life can be. It's the day of love and I'm in the city of love, yet I never felt more disappointed in love ever. The broken pieces of my heart are cutting me from the inside, I want to scream from the pain, but I have never been quieter in my life, my voice got lost between the sharp pieces of my heart.
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Our trip to the city of love started like a cliché straight from a romantic movie. We decided with my boyfriend, Hongjoong, that we were going to travel to Paris for a little break, as we both needed it, we were overwhelmed with work, and we barely saw each other. And Valentine's Day was a perfect excuse for both of us, to celebrate our love, that just started to bloom. Our relationship began six months ago, and it was a maze until we finally understood each other and found our way through the dark, complicated labyrinth of each other's hearts.
We wandered around the city with our hands interlaced, never letting go for even a minute. We felt locked together, forever. Throughout the day we visited a lot of museums and the typical sights of Paris, that being the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower. When the both of us were on top of the Eiffel Tower, the wind was so strong up there, that we could barely see the city down there. The air was chilly, as it was mid-winter. The clouds were gone, and the snow had already melted away, leaving behind only the cold.
I stared at Hongjoong, my hair in my face, giggling as he took pictures of me. The photos came out blurry but full of happiness. The sun that slowly approached its lowest spread an orange blanket over the city, lighting it with all shades of orange. I looked next to me, where Hongjoong was smiling. I saw him in slow-motion, as he was looking down at the orange city, the sun's beams lighting his beautifully shaped face, his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, his eyes in the shape of a crescent moon as he was smiling. The wind blew very slightly on his brown hair alongside his elegant black clothes.
And his smile... that was why I fell in love with him so deeply that I couldn't escape. His smile was so perfect and wide, full of humanity, with sincerity that immediately caught me off-guard because I didn't believe in the fact, that perfect humans on this Earth existed. But as soon as I saw him, I knew it was just a lie, because with time every human being finds their perfect mate for their soul, no matter if someone sees them as imperfect. For you, they are always going to be perfect.
After coming down from the tower, we wanted to do one last thing: put a padlock on the famous bridge where people place padlocks to symbolize their love, as the saying goes, 'Lasts until forever'. And as it was Valentine's Day and we were in the city of love, to make it cheesier we bought a red padlock to put it on the bridge.
"So did you enjoy yourself today?" Hongjoong asked looking at me with his adoringly beautiful smile, as we were walking towards the bridge.
"This was the happiest day of my life Hongjoong." I looked at him with loving eyes, tears almost appearing in my eyes as I was very overwhelmed by the fact of how much I loved him. "Thank you."
"Come here, my little bun." He pulled me by my hand that was interlaced with his and hugged me strongly I felt like he might break my bones, as we were at the end of the bridge. He pecked the top of my head and slowly separated from me, leaving little distance between us, just to cup my face into his warm hand. Chills ran through my body as I felt his warm hand on my cold and red face, he immediately warmed me up with only one slight touch.
"I love to see you happy." He said his voice a little childish as he was saying it adorably. He tugged my hair behind my air. "I'm happy if you are too."
"You are too cheesy, what happened to you?" I looked at him suspiciously.
He chuckled at that. "You happened; I can't help it." He slowly leaned closer to me and slightly pecked my lips with his. Then he looked at me and smiled like I was the only human being on Earth.
"So, it's my fault?" I whispered onto his lips, that still hovered over mine.
"Yes, it is." His eyes were on my lips, as he whispered the words sweetly.
Then he closed the distance again between our lips and kissed me more passionately, putting his heart into the kiss, giving it to me so I could keep it safely in my imaginary safe made out of unbreakable metal, but sometimes that metal can get infected and it can crack and that hurts. As I kissed him back my lips slowly moving against his, the world was gone around us, and I did the same with my heart, giving it to him, so he could keep my heart wherever he wanted to. I hoped our hearts belonged to the other and no one else.
"Let's put that silly padlock on." He said as we separated from the kiss, caressing my cold cheeks.
I just nodded and took his hand to lead him through the bridge's middle.
"It's nice to be back in here." He said as we were looking around, observing the padlocks people already left there.
"Have you been here before?" I asked him surprised with a frown.
Suddenly his expression changed, as we stopped in the middle of the bridge, people around us walking and smiling, the sky had already gone dark, and only the street lights showed the way.
"Well…yes." He scratched the back of his head, averting my eyes.
"I didn't know, when?" He acted strange all of a sudden and I didn’t know why.
"Last year—with… Hana." He slowly looked up, to see my reaction.
I gulped and my heart started to race quickly as I heard her name. I really wanted to stay calm it wasn't the time to argue again as he knew it was an uncomfortable topic between us.
I nodded barely visible. "I see…" I looked down on my hands. "And did you like—were here?" My voice came out strange, it lost its power as I pointed at the padlocks.
"Y—yes," Hongjoong said noticing as my expression changed very quickly. He stepped closer to me to hold my hands. I just looked down at our hands and then at the padlocks. "But it was in the past and you know it, Y/N. I want to do this with you." He reached his hands towards my face, but before he could touch it, I stopped him.
"Well, I don't want to anymore." My voice came out serious, my face looked hurt and disappointed. I stepped back, putting distance between us.
"C'mon, Y/N. You can't be serious." He stepped closer to me and I stepped back again on that. He scoffed at that. "Why can't you put it all behind you? It was a long time ago."
"Because she's everywhere I go, Hongjoong, anything I do with you has to do something with her." Tears started to well up in my eyes.
"It's not, you just made it up here," He pointed at his temple."…because you can't get over it, Y/N." He seemed upset as his voice got more serious.
I scoffed at that in disbelief. "So, now you think I'm crazy?"
It is very unpredictable how everything can change from heaven to hell.
"No, you are not crazy, but you definitely can't let go of the past and be in the present…with me." Hongjoong said running his fingers through his brown short hair.
"What can I do, when all the time I see her face, everywhere." I lifted my arms helplessly. "In our daily life, in our home…in your eyes." One tear slowly escaped my left eye.
"When will you understand she is nothing to me now?" He stepped closer to me, disappointment showing on his face. "When will you understand you are my everything? That I love you and no one else." His voice got lower, weaker.
"I know that you love me, you don't need to remind me like it's an obligation." I looked at him already feeling so far away from him.
Hongjoong scoffed at that. "What are you talking about?"
"You always sound like you have to assure me you love me." I looked down at the ground, where our shadows melted into each other. I just wanted to hide from him. "I am sure you love me. But…it's just a feeling I can't shake."
"You have no idea what are you talking about. Can't you get that you are my fucking world Y/N?" I felt as he stared at me with deadly eyes, growing more furious.
Stressed, I ran my fingers through my hair, tears streaming down my face. "But you aren't mine," I barely said out loud, knowing he could hear me.
I couldn't see his expression as he stood there in silence for a moment.
"You think so?" he asked, his voice calmer.
I just nodded, unable to look up.
He chuckled and came closer to me, his breath close to my face. "So, let's make it fair, then. Shall we?" His voice was like a threat. Then he grabbed the padlock from my hand and threw it away into the water. I stared at him, my eyes wide in shock. "I wanted to make you happy, to do cheesy things like this. But if you can't understand, let's just stop."
"I never wanted to fight," I mumbled.
"But we always do, Y/N." He lifted his eyebrows as he looked at me, disappointed. "It wasn't like this before."
"What do you mean?" I asked him, confused.
"I mean, when we started, it was nice. We were happy, no arguing. But you kept looking into my past and everything changed." He looked into my eyes, tired of the arguments.
"Because she was always there in the back of my mind." I sniffled and wiped away a tear.
"She isn't now. But you can't see it." He shook his head slightly. 
"Honestly…I don't know if I can be with someone who can't let go of the past…" I snapped my head up at that, his face was nothing but serious without any emotions. My heart started to race more quickly than before.
"Hongjoong…" I stepped closer to him with regret on my face.
"No." Now he was the one who stepped back, and my heart started to crack. "I am tired of this, you have to let go of our past and be present completely, not only with half of your heart." He said those words like it was venom and it flew right into my lungs poisoning it so I couldn't breathe anymore.
"We will talk when you finally manage to do that." He put his hands into his pockets and just passed by me like we suddenly became two strangers, leaving me there on the bridge where we could've locked our love forever, he left me with a heart suddenly broken into millions of pieces.
Did I cross the line?
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The thing is Hana was Hongjoong's ex-girlfriend and my best friend.
My best friend and Hongjoong got together three years ago and broke up last summer. And it wasn't particularly because of me, well I played a little part in that as well, but they just always argued about little annoying things and I was the one who reconciled them. I'm not sure when it happened, but the more I was hanging out with my best friend and her boyfriend the more I felt something wasn't right. I started to feel something towards Hongjoong and I knew it wasn’t right so I quickly buried it deep down into my soul, so no one would know it.
I watched them through these years when they were arguing and when they hated each other, but they always made up at the end of the day and everyone was happy.
Not until one day, Hongjoong found out Hana cheated on him. That day was a disaster because the more time I spent with Hongjoong, the closer I grew to him. I considered him a friend and liked him. I could talk about things with him, that I didn’t even tell my best friend. It was hard to take sides, to be honest, it was cruel of my best friend but at the same time she was my best friend and I needed to be by her side. She was crying on my shoulder even though she fucked all of this up. Slowly, Hongjoong walked out of our lives, and it didn't feel right for some reason. Not seeing him every day, not knowing what he was doing, made my heart ache for some reason and I was so confused.
Not until July.
We accidentally ended up at the same event connected to our work and started talking. We talked, but like we just met, like we didn't know each other before like Hana didn't even exist. I felt guilty of course but sometimes people have to be selfish, for their own sake. We had a deep connection with Hongjoong and I didn't want to let it go. I just couldn't.
From then on, we grew closer to each other, and got to know each other. And one night, Hana saw us, of course, I didn't tell her about Hongjoong, that we were talking. And of course, the universe loved us and Hana saw us exactly that summer night when Hongjoong kissed me for the first time. When he kissed me, I felt like I was finally complete, like I found the missing piece of my lost soul. But when I saw Hana's face, my soul immediately burnt into specks of dust.
Until then, all I could see was her face when he saw us, the hatred in her eyes, that I could understand. I haven't see her since then, but she lives in my head rent-free. I hated myself because this was the cruelest thing a best friend could do. But I stayed selfish and chose Hongjoong because he made me happy and made me feel alive.
And now I fucked up everything because I can't get through our past. What happened is happened, but when he touches me all I can think of is how she felt, I always compare myself to her.
As I was standing on the bridge and trying to somehow organize my thoughts, I just started to walk in the city that was full of couples and happy people. The city was alive, restaurants were open, and people were celebrating, and laughing together. Yet, I was there walking past them with my eyes crying out, slowly losing myself in the dark. When I passed by a lucky charm seller, the old lady beckoned me to go there. I frowned as I slowly approached her.
"My daughter, you look sad, did somebody break your heart?" She asked me putting his hands on my shoulders.
I nodded tears appearing in my eyes again. "But… it was my fault…so I deserve it." My voice came out weak.
"No one deserves a broken heart, sweet girl." She slowly wiped off my tears. "These lucky charms will tell you what to do, I am sure." She pointed at the little papers with green trefoils on them.
I just shrugged, I didn't believe in these things, but at least I could make someone happy by buying one. I chose one randomly and paid for it, thanking the lady.
"And don’t forget, sometimes before loving someone else, we have to learn how to love and how to receive it." She smiled at me and let me keep going.
I put the lucky charm in my pocket, not even bothering to read it, and walked forward without any destination. All I could think about was Hongjoong and how much I fucked up. It was a perfect day…why did I have to fuck it up? As I walked next to the river my palm was itching in my pocket so I stopped to read the paper. I slowly opened the decorated paper.
"I fell in love with you because you loved me when I couldn't love myself.
 And then you realize it was all real."
I read the lines with my heart slowly warming up and pumping quicker. I never believed in things like these, but these lines hit me hard in the chest just so I could realize how stupid I was, how stupid I was to think Hongjoong didn't love me. I mentally face-palmed myself and tried to stop myself from jumping straight into the cold river and turned around just to run back to our hotel, hoping Hongjoong was going to be there.
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Hongjoong wasn't there and he will never come back. He will never come back, because I made myself believe he had anything to do with Hana and that he always compared me to her. But the truth is I compared myself to her and it made my brain a fool, so I believed every cruel thing it whispered to me.
I collapsed on the bed, hugged myself and here I was, crying my soul out with a broken heart, on Valentine's Day, in the city of love.
Hours or just minutes passed by, and I lost track of time when I heard the door closing. I opened my eyes quickly; I was facing the door to our room laying on my right side. Hongjoong slowly stepped inside and took off his winter coat his eyes on me the whole time. I couldn't tell what was he thinking.
I sat up as he approached me and sat on the bed, just to cup my cried-out face into his, now cold, hands.
He leaned his forehead against mine as he whispered. "Oh, my little bun. You make my heart break, seeing you like this."
Probably I looked like hell, my eyes red, my cheeks puffy, my make-up smashed from crying. 
I slowly held his wrists that cupped my face. "Hongjoong I—" Tears found their way out again; I didn't understand how I hadn't dried out by now. I started to sob.
"I'm sorry, my love, I shouldn't have talked to you like that." He hugged me, his fingers running through my hair, trying to calm me down.
I slowly lifted my head from his chest. "No, you were right, Hongjoong." Words could finally leave my mouth. "I was living in the past, that hurt me, but at the same time healed me…you healed me. I was so broken, but you managed to glue together the pieces of me. But this Hana thing just hunted me and I couldn't run away it’s like she cursed me just so I could feel his revenge." I looked down at my hands sniffing.
Then I looked into his eyes and the mate of my soul looked at me like I was the most vulnerable creature on Earth. And that was the moment I got reassured about everything.
"I'm so sorry for making you feel like it was all your fault when it was just my fucked-up mind. You are my everything Hongjoong, and I couldn't spend even a minute without you in my life. Please, don't leave me…" My tears flew down my cheeks endlessly.
He sighed and slowly reached for my hands, holding them like a treasure. "You are a fool if you think it is an obligation for me to say I love you. I say it because I mean it with all my heart, and to let you know that Hana is in the past you know I never really loved her. Not like I love you. You are my partner in life, my future and I never want to let you go." He wiped my tears away as his eyes watered and a little teardrop escaped his eye. I immediately wiped it away, not wanting to see him cry because of me. Ever.
"I love you so-so much!" I whispered weakly as I cupped his face.
"I love you endlessly, bun." He smiled at me adoringly, his smile that cured everything inside me and his lips on mine that slowly put the broken pieces of my heart into its place, my heart being whole again, in one piece, just so I could give it to him, into his hands to do whatever he wanted to it, because I just belonged to him and he belonged to me.
He kissed me slowly, like never before, his soft lips moving along mine leaving a sweet taste behind. I slowly crawled into his lap, straddling his thighs. His hands found their place on my waist like they belonged there and squeezed it like he never wanted to let me go. Our kiss got more hotter as I parted my lips letting his tongue inside, discovering every hidden place of my mouth, like he wanted to taste every inch of me. My hands crawled into his hair squeezing it as a moan left his mouth. His hands slowly got their way under my clothes, running his fingers up and down my back, like he couldn't get enough of me.
"You are so beautiful, Y/N." He whispered onto my lips between hot kisses. He looked at me like he couldn't believe his eyes. "You are my beautiful girl." His lips traced over mine as he firmly bit my lower lip.
I chuckled at that, as he quickly flipped us over and he hovered above me, supporting himself with his hands on both sides of my head and he just looked at me. I got impatient and quickly lifted my head so I could kiss him, but he pushed me back to the bed and kissed me harshly, my body felt hot, and I felt like I could burn alive.
Everywhere he touched me burned my skin down to my bones. But I didn’t care because I knew he was the love of my life, that one person who was always beside me and supported me no matter what. The past needs to be locked in the past and the present needs to be lived just so I can build a strong future alongside the emotions I feel, alongside Hongjoong, now, on Valentine's Day and in the city of love, Paris.
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76 notes · View notes
wyuovvia · 2 days
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— BRAT TAMING 101!
Kento Nanami x Male Y/N || Content Warnings: minor writing smut, nsfw, idea/request from my old account (@ballsinyojaws2000), anal, blowjob, nudes, sending nudes while at work, semi-semi-public(??), rough, creampie, cum swallowing, throatfucking, married y/n + kento, subbot y/n & domtop kento, rest of writing under cut || Word Count: 2,212 || Followers When Posted: 95 ||Author's Note: told you guys a fic would be posted tonight || property of ©wyuovvia . all rights reserved . do not plagiarize , repost , or translate any of my work without my permission .
ALBUM ENTRY!: Being home alone without your husband is boring, so why not spice things up by sending him nudes while he's at work? Who knows what'll happen! You'll only find out if you try it!
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Kento is busy at work, stuck doing what seems like an endless amount of paperwork because his co-workers couldn’t finish it. It was currently 11:56 PM. He better be getting paid more for this. Kento is on the verge of just leaving the building right here, right now, but of course, he can’t do that because then he would probably fired. The job has adequate pay anyway. It’s enough for him to get good money if he works enough. When Kento is about to start yet another portion of work he had, his phone buzzes on the desktop near him.
He checks his phone, and it was [Y/N]. But out of all things, he didn't expect [Y/N] to send him nudes while he was working at all. In the picture, [Y/N] was laid out on the bed with a dildo in his ass and a vibrator pressed against his cock. The message that [Y/N] sent after that was "Miss you Kento <3"
Kento's heart skipped a beat as he gazed at the explicit image of [Y/N] lying seductively on the bed, the dildo firmly planted inside him and the vibrator teasingly touching his erect member. A mix of shock and excitement coursed through him. Without thinking twice, he quickly locked his office door, pulled his phone closer, and replied to the message, "You're such a bad boy, playing with yourself while I'm stuck here." He closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself in the dildo’s place, feeling the sensations of [Y/N] squeezing around him and begging him for more.
After a few seconds, Kento continued, "But you know what they say - bad boys deserve even better punishment. Once I get home, I'm going to spank that cute little ass of yours until it turns bright red. And then, I'll slide into you nice and slow, reminding you who owns you, you horny brat." With each word, his grip tightened around his phone, and his jaw clenched as thoughts of dominating [Y/N] consumed his mind.
A few seconds later, [Y/N] sends a picture of his cock dripping cum. The message [Y/N] sends after says "you should come home soon" Kento nearly dropped his phone as he saw the fresh wave of explicit content from [Y/N]. His husband's cock glistening with cum against the soft sheets, the messy aftermath of self-indulgence. His pulse quickened, and he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure amidst the carnal images. Taking a deep breath, he texted back, "You naughty little thing, already cumming without me? Fine, I'll see how much more you can handle when I get home. You'd better clean up before I arrive, or I might show you just how much worse it could get."
With a final, smug grin, Kento shot one last message before shoving his phone back into his pocket. "And don't think you're off the hook yet. I'm bringing a surprise for you tonight - something to remind you of our little arrangement. Get ready to feel every inch of it, my dear husband.", he whispered to himself, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. He couldn't wait any longer; he grabbed his jacket and headed towards their apartment, eager to claim his prize.
As he walks to his car and turns on the engine, his cock starts to throb in his pants. He can barely focus fully on the road due to his mind thinking of all the things he's going to do to [Y/N] as punishment. Kento's grip on the steering wheel tightened as his throbbing cock strained against his pants, an unwelcome distraction as he focused on navigating the busy streets back home. The thought of punishing [Y/N] for his impudence was both enticing and arousing, filling him with a primal sense of dominance. He knew [Y/N] was enjoying this game, and so was he. But he couldn't let it affect his driving.
With a deep breath, Kento tried to redirect his thoughts to the road ahead, his mind racing between visions of [Y/N]'s eager body and the need to safely transport himself to their apartment. Though his heart pounded in anticipation, he managed to keep his focus and eventually pulled into the parking lot of their building. As he exited the car, he took one last deep breath and reminded himself that he was the one in control. Once inside, he would show [Y/N] just who wore the pants in their marriage, and he couldn't wait to sink into his husband's tight warmth.
Kento quickly made his way up to their room as fast as he could. He pulls out his keys, unlocks the door, and immediately rushes to the bedroom where he finds [Y/N] teasing his cock with the vibrator still, and the dildo that was in him before was next to him on the bed. In between [Y/N]'s legs, there was still cum on his cock and the bedsheets below. [Y/N] only had one of Kento's shirts on and he looks up when Kento enters the room as he blushes and smirks at him. 
Kento's blood ran hot as he caught sight of [Y/N], still teasing himself with the vibrator, the dildo lying beside him on the bed. His eyes immediately locked onto the residue of his husband's earlier climax, a testament to his naughty behavior. His heart raced, and his cock twitched at the thought of taking [Y/N] right then and there.
Stepping into the room, Kento's eyes never left [Y/N]'S smirking face. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, otherwise, you'd be punished already," he hissed, his voice thick with desire. "Get up, and get the rest of your clothes off. We have a lot to cover tonight."
As he spoke, Kento's fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning it and shrugging it off his shoulders. He made quick work of his tie and unzipped his pants, revealing his hardened member. "I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget, my naughty husband."
[Y/N] takes Kento's shirt off of himself and after that, Kento lays on the bed and [Y/N] lays across him with his head laying on Kento's lower abdomen. [Y/N]'s bold move caught Kento off guard, but he found himself liking the initiative his husband had shown. With a smirk, he patted the spot on his abdomen, beckoning [Y/N] to settle in comfortably. As [Y/N] lay across him, Kento felt a surge of power, his gaze lingering on the curve of his husband's ass. Kento grabs one of the pillows and places it so [Y/N] laying on it, and it's under [Y/N]'s waist.
"Spread your legs, boy," Kento commanded, his voice stern as he adjusted the pillow beneath [Y/N]. "You're going to get exactly what you deserve, so be ready." As his husband complied, he couldn't help but admire the view before him. He reached for one of [Y/N]'s plump cheeks, giving it a sharp smack. "Keep your legs open, or I'll make sure your ass is red by the time I'm done with you."
With that, Kento's eyes locked onto [Y/N]'s eager mouth as it engulfed his cock. He groaned, his hand tightening on the sheet as [Y/N]'s skilled tongue and lips worked their way down Kento's cock.
Nanami puts his hand on the back of [Y/N]'s head and slowly moves him up and down his cock. As Nanami starts to make [Y/N] go lower onto his cock, [Y/N] gags a bit and moans around his dick each time his head moves back down. While Nanami's one hand moves [Y/N]'s head up and down, the other is reaching over and spanking [Y/N]'s ass.
As [Y/N]'s gagging moans echoed in the room, Nanami couldn't help but smile. The sight of his husband's face contorted around his cock, the feeling of [Y/N]'s throat muscles pulsating around him - it was all too much. He leaned back, his hand tightening on the back of [Y/N]'s head as he guided him to the tip, letting him catch his breath before plunging back down.
The spankings continued, his palm meeting [Y/N]'s ass with a satisfying slap. He felt the sting, the heat, the mixture of pain and pleasure that only he could provide. "That's right, take it all, you little brat. I'll decide when you can breathe." Nanami's voice was firm, his control over this situation absolute.
[Y/N]'s moans grew louder, his body bucking with each spank, his cheeks flushing a deep red. Nanami continued to thrust into [Y/N]'s mouth, the sensation of his husband's warm throat surrounding him almost too much to bear. He was close, his release building with each thrust; but he wasn't done yet.
[Y/N]'s moans washed over Nanami like a tidal wave, each one pushing him closer to the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he felt his orgasm approaching. "That's it, my boy, make me cum. Make me spill my seed down your throat," he growled, his grip on [Y/N]'s hair tightening.
His orgasm hit him like a freight train, his hips bucking involuntarily as he filled [Y/N]'s mouth with his seed. [Y/N] gags as his eyes widen and he tries to swallow the cum, but some of it drips down his chin. He gazed down at his husband, his chest heaving, his breaths ragged. "That's for teasing yourself without me," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction.
Once he had caught his breath, Nanami pulled out of [Y/N]'s mouth, his cock still dripping with cum. He leaned down, brushing his lips against [Y/N]'s ear. "Now, it's your turn," he murmured, his voice laced with promise and desire. Nanami's fingers traced the curve of [Y/N]'s ass, lingering on the red marks he'd left behind. "Turn over, and get ready for me."
[Y/N] whimpered and then turned away from Nanami, and then he got into a position where his ass was up, and his head was pressed into the pillows. [Y/N]'s hole was practically clenching around nothing, begging to be stuffed.
Nanami's heart swelled with pride at the sight of [Y/N], eager and ready for what was to come. His husband's neediness was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of dominance. He reached for a bottle of lube on the nightstand, slicking his fingers before slowly sliding one inside [Y/N]'s eager hole.
[Y/N] gasped, his body trembling as Nanami prepared him for what was to come. "You're so ready for me, aren't you?" he purred, his voice thick with desire. With a second finger joining the first, he felt [Y/N]'s muscles clench around him, a testament to his arousal. "I bet you can't wait to feel my cock inside you, can you?"
Nanami gently stretched [Y/N]'s hole, knowing he had to be careful. He didn't want to cause any pain, only pleasure. When he was satisfied with the preparation, he removed his fingers, slicking his cock with more lube. He was already hard again. Lining himself up at [Y/N]'s entrance, he paused, looking into his husband's eyes. "Ready?"
"M-mhm... p-please Kento.. 'need your cock..." Nanami couldn't resist the pleading look in [Y/N]'s eyes. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed into [Y/N]'s tight heat, groaning as his husband's muscles clenched around him. He hesitated, allowing [Y/N] to adjust, then began to thrust, setting a slow, deep rhythm.
Each thrust brought a moan from [Y/N], his hips bucking to meet Nanami's advances. "Fuck, you're tight," he growled, his hands gripping [Y/N]'s hips, guiding their movements. "Even after getting yourself off while I was at work you aren't prepped enough for my cock?~" The feel of [Y/N]'s ass wrapped around his cock, the way [Y/N]'s body responded to his every touch, it was pure ecstasy.
Nanami's grip tightened, his thrusts becoming more forceful as his arousal climbed. "You like this, don't you? Being taken by me, like this?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. Sweat dripped down their intertwined bodies, the scent of sex thick in the air. He leaned down, his lips brushing against [Y/N]'s ear. "Soon, I'm going to fill you up with my cum, my good boy."
"Ah!~ Ngh- Kento!~ Slow- Ah~ Slow downngh!!~" [Y/N] clenched around him as he desperately tried to adjust to the speed and roughness of his thrusts. Nanami couldn't help but laugh at the sight of [Y/N]'s struggles. "Not tonight, my pet. Tonight, you're going to take it however I give it to you." He continued his intense pace, watching as [Y/N]'s body began to adjust, the clenching becoming more rhythmic.
[Y/N]'s moans grew louder, mingling with the slap of their bodies connecting. Nanami felt the familiar build-up, his release nearing. "You're doing good, [Y/N]. Keep taking it." He leaned down, his teeth grazing [Y/N]'s neck as he whispered, "Soon, my dear, you'll be mine completely."
With a final, powerful thrust, Nanami's orgasm tore through him. He groaned, his seed filling [Y/N] as he held onto his husband's hips, not wanting to let go. They stayed that way for a moment, Nanami's breath ragged, his heart pounding. "Are you satisfied now?" he asked, his voice thick with aftershocks. He slowly pulled out, watching as [Y/N]'s hole slowly closed around the absence of his cock and how his semen slowly dripped out of his twitching hole. Maybe [Y/N] would send him more nudes if it always ended like this.
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gleefullypolin · 2 days
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Romancing Mister Bridgerton Book Spoilers for reference:
Everyone is getting up in their feels about how Colin is going to handle the LW reveal and I know the show has really ramped up the drama compared to the book with extra risk however I still think some of the book is relevant here. Stick with me, this gets lengthy...
We’ve all seen the rumors. Brothel smothel. I’m not here to soothe anyone’s mind or spoil the show. I’m not a brothel hater from part 1. I felt the scenes while not completely fun to watch, were part of the story. Colin is playing the role he feels society is asking him to play. He seeks out this part while still feeling this enormous loneliness from it (see journal entry). He also does not seek out intimacy, there is a reason he is with 2 women and not 1. It is easier to avoid intimacy if you do not have to be one on one. There is much to draw out of the brothel scene but I’m not here for that. Either way, we may see him return to one in part 2 and we may not. I am withholding judgment until we know how it plays out and what he does there. Colin will have a huge secret that he cannot share with anyone, he may not have many places he can go. So I’m just going to wait and see.
However, I also know that Show Colin is as Book Colin, Kind. He is forgiving. And lets look past the situation and go to where he will return to Pen AFTER he has resolved to continue his conversation regarding LW.
Colin will definitely be angry. Pen lied to him. And she wrote as LW after they were engaged and announced. This will definitely I am sure be a punch to the chest. I feel for Colin. This again is imperfect people making mistakes. Pen made one here.  In the book she made the same mistake:
“Don’t,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Don’t touch you?” His voice grew mocking, and Penelope was glad that she couldn’t see his face. “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”
“Not yet,” she warned him.
“Oh, but you are. You saw to that. It was rather clever timing, actually, waiting until our engagement ball to make your final announcement. You knew I didn’t want you to publish that last column. I forbade it! We agreed—”
“We never agreed!”
He ignored her outburst. “You waited until—”
“We never agreed,” Penelope cried out again, needing to make it clear that she had not broken her word. Whatever else she had done, she had not lied to him. Well, aside from keeping Whistledown a secret for nearly a dozen years, but he certainly hadn’t been alone in that deception. “And yes,” she admitted, because it didn’t seem right to start lying now, “I knew you wouldn’t jilt me. But I hoped—”
So yes the show is different here because he already knew she was LW at the engagement in the book and published after they agreed she wouldn't. But same premise in the show, she lied to him after the engagement. so work with me here, She knew that Colin would not leave her even after she posted her article. It was wrong. She knew it. But she did it anyway.
“You hoped what?” Colin asked after an interminable silence.
“I hoped that you would forgive me,” she whispered. “Or at least that you would understand. I always thought you were the sort of man who…”
“What sort of man?” he asked, this time after the barest hint of a pause.
“It’s my fault, really,” she said, sounding tired and sad. “I’ve put you on a pedestal. You’ve been so nice all these years. I suppose I thought you were incapable of anything else.”
In the book you start to see that Colin becomes concerned about Pen, this is where his concern comes in, he’s worried about her safety here. He wants her to allow Cressida to just have taken the fall. She is being reckless.
Colin looked away. He didn’t know why he did so; it wasn’t as if he could see her in the dark, anyway. But there was something about the tone of her voice that made him uneasy. She sounded vulnerable, tired. Wishful and heart-broken. She made him want to understand her, or at least to try, even though he knew she had made a terrible mistake. Every little catch in her voice put a damper on his fury. He was still angry, but somehow he’d lost the will to display it.
“You are going to be found out, you know,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “You have humiliated Cressida; she will be beyond furious, and she’s not going to rest until she unearths the real Lady Whistledown.”
Penelope moved away; he could hear her skirts rustling. “Cressida isn’t bright enough to figure me out, and besides, I’m not going to write any more columns, so there will be no opportunity for me to slip up and reveal something.” There was a beat of silence, and then she added, “You have my promise on that.”
“It’s too late,” he said.
“It’s not too late,” she protested. “No one knows! No one knows but you, and you’re so ashamed of me, I can’t bear it.”
“Oh, for the love of God, Penelope,” he snapped, “I’m not ashamed of you.”
And now we start to shift. The conversation of anger to shame.
Colin crossed the room and fumbled in a drawer for a candle and the means with which to light it. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he reiterated, “but I do think you’re acting foolishly.”
“You may be correct,” she said, “but I have to do what I think is right.”
“You’re not thinking,” he said dismissively, turning and looking at her face as he sparked a flame. “Forget, if you will—although I cannot—what will happen to your reputation if people find out who you really are. Forget that people will cut you, that they will talk about you behind your back.”
“Those people aren’t worth worrying about,” she said, her back ramrod straight.
And now we talk about society. We talk about what Pen has done throughout the years. What her words have meant across the ton.
“But forget all of that,” he continued. “You have spent the last decade insulting people. Offending them.”
“I have said lots of very nice things as well,” she protested, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Of course you have, but those aren’t the people you are going to have to worry about. I’m talking about the angry ones, the insulted ones.” He strode forward and grabbed her by her upper arms. “Penelope,” he said urgently, “there will be people who want to hurt you.”
She doesn’t see that she has tried to hurt people. Pen is not a bad person. She has written the truth. Even when it has hurt people she doesn't see herself as a bad person, she is NOT and I mean to say this clearly for those that have not heard me, she is NOT a villain. But here is where it gets interesting for me and it will harken back for me to the show. To the MOST important conversation that Pen and Colin have ever had.
“What I want to know,” he asked, deliberately forcing the conversation back on topic so his mind wouldn’t wander down such dangerous roads, “is why you’re not jumping on the perfect alibi if the point is to remain anonymous.”
“Because remaining anonymous isn’t the point!” she fairly yelled.
“You want to be found out?” he asked, gaping at her in the candlelight.
“No, of course not,” she replied. “But this is my work. This is my life’s work. This is all I have to show for my life, and if I can’t take the credit for it, I’ll be damned if someone else will.”
Colin opened his mouth to offer a retort, but to his surprise, he had nothing to say. Life’s work. Penelope had a life’s work.
He did not.
So lets go back to Season 2. To this most important and intimate conversation that I think they have ever had together.
Pen: I am certain you will find your purpose one day. Everyone must eventually.
Colin: Have you found yours?
Pen: Of course not. But I imagine it to be something both animating and satisfying. The type of venture that speaks not to who I am but rather who I am to be. My purpose will challenge me to be brave and witty. My purpose will propel me far beyond the watchful glare of my mama. My purpose shall set me free.
Colin: What could possibly measure up to all that? Your dreams are grander than you let on, Pen.
Pen: Yes, they are mere fantasies, but I do believe we must allow ourselves those private moments so we may face reality armed with our reveries.
This is what we built up to, this right here. This is what we lead to in Season 3. And that will lead us to Book Colin. This is what they are giving us and it is glorious. And I love it. And I believe this is our New girl kiss and this is our Mirror and I am here and I will believe in this because this is our Polin!
She was amazing. He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized it before, when he’d already known that she was smart and lovely and witty and resourceful. But all those adjectives, and a whole host more he hadn’t yet thought of, did not add up to the true measure of her.
She was amazing.
And he was…Dear God above, he was jealous of her.
“I’ll go,” she said softly, turning and walking toward the door.
For a moment he didn’t react. His mind was still frozen, reeling with revelations. But when he saw her hand on the doorknob, he knew he could not let her go. Not this night, not ever.
“No,” he said hoarsely, closing the distance between them in three long strides. “No,” he said again, “I want you to stay.”
She looked up at him, her eyes two pools of confusion. “But you said—”
He cupped her face tenderly with his hands. “Forget what I said.”
And that was when he realized that Daphne had been right. His love hadn’t been a thunderbolt from the sky. It had started with a smile, a word, a teasing glance. Every second he had spent in her presence it had grown, until he’d reached this moment, and he suddenly knew.
He loved her.
He was still furious with her for publishing that last column, and he was bloody ashamed of himself that he was actually jealous of her for having found a life’s work and purpose, but even with all that, he loved her.
And if he let her walk out the door right now, he would never forgive himself.
This will lead to jealous Colin because suddenly the woman he is marrying has her purpose, he still does not, his new wife is successful, a writer, who he deems himself to be. This woman who compliments his writing suddenly has clout to do so. This is Book Colin coming home to us. But at the end of the chapter...let us remember, he would not let her walk out the door because even with all of that, the deception, the jealousy...he would not forgive himself if he let her walk out the door, because he LOVED her.
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042502 · 23 hours
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☆༉ — CHRIS STURNIOLO. The Unwritten Rule.
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about. Everyone knows the rule, don't fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend.
author's note. This is the chapter 6, I hope it sounds interesting to you. My first language is not English. masterlis!
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Anna's house is quiet and empty, and I stand hesitantly in the kitchen as I check her messages.
Anna's house seems normal enough. Anna drops things on the floor, his mother leaves half-eaten cans of peppermint candy that she always has with her everywhere. But I still haven't felt comfortable here.
I don't think Anna will either, but I feel even more uncomfortable than usual. I can't believe Chris is coming. I can't believe I'm here. Why did I agree to this?
Because I want to see it.
I'm not here for Anna, I'm here for me and I'm a horrible friend.
I can't help it. I still want to see it.
Anna threw her cell phone on the table with some anger, clearly she wants me to ask her what's going on. So I do it.
"What's happening?"
"The usual, mom is working late and dad doesn't call," she rolls her eyes and sighs frustrated. "Why do my parents hate me?"
"They don't hate you" This talk again? "Your mom is... she is what she is, and your dad is not always far away if it seems that there will be something else legal."
"There is always something else legal" it seems obvious to me. I'm like this bone that he and mom fight to get. Sometimes I think it could be a dog or a vase and they would still act exactly the same." I look away." “I would be lying if I said it wasn’t true.”
"They know you're not a dog or a vase" I'm not lying. I think Anna's parents know she exists and that she is their daughter.
I just don't think any of them care, it's not important to them, like it should be and I know it's really hard for her.
I walk over to where she is standing and put my arms around her to hug her. “You are better than them.”
"You think?"
"Completely."
"I would never treat my son like they do, when I have my children, I will make him love me more than anything."
"You shouldn't have to make them love you, Anna. They always will."
"No, sometimes you have to make people love you."
"You can't make someone love you" I laugh.
"Of course you can. Just know what they want it to be and eventually they will" basically manipulation...
"That's... horrible, I mean, but the look on Anna's face was a mix of rage and helplessness. "And what about being yourself?
"Tell me, what's so good about that?" He looks at me seriously. "Look at you for a second, you're small and quiet, so guys never notice about you. That's because they're stupid and only think about looks and things, of course, but still."
"Okay" I remove my arms from around her and return to my seat.
"Don't be sad" I bite the inside of my cheek. "It will be different in time, I'm sure of that. Besides, your parents love you in a crazy awesome way, and you know I love you. If I could have a sister, it would totally be you, but I like to think that we are already sisters. You do not believe it?"
"Yes" Does she try to soften it with a friendly comment every time she says something hurtful to me? but what I really wonder is if there are sisters where one feels like she is the shadow of the other. Yes there is a girl with a sister who sometimes makes her feel like nothing. In that case it would be Anna and me.
"Oh shit, Chris will be here soon" he changes the subject. "Will you wait down here and let him come in for me? I have to go get ready."
"But you look good" I admit that, if I wanted to see Chris, but I didn't want to be alone with him, not yet.
"I have to be Perfect" she smiles. "All you have to do is talk to him for a few minutes.
"Anna…”
"Okay, don't talk. Just do homework with him. You can do that right? We're going to do homework tonight anyway."
"Anna" I repeat, but she ran up the stairs.
"You are the best, you are great Adi!" He yelled at me as I went upstairs.
I grab my notes and look for a place to sit waiting for Chris.
I ended up sitting at the kitchen table, and when the doorbell rings I jump. I go to open the door knowing that I would meet Chris.
"This is new, I always have to ring the bell more than once before..." he finally looked at me and smiled "Ada, hello."
"Hey," he greeted, looking at the ground. "Anna is upstairs getting ready. She will be with us in a few minutes.
"Well," he runs his hand through his hair, combing it back. I could see how the strands of hair were messy. Jamás lo observó tanto, But I've been waiting and regretting that he shouldn't see me here and now he blushes, I want to touch him so much that my stomach is boiling and shaking because of it, my fingers tremble.
"We should sit down" I spoke at the same time he said 'Do you want to sit down?', we both sat down, we smiled at each other at that.
It's Chris, it's just Chris. I can do this, I've known him forever and we're friends, he's dating my best friend. I have to do this, be normal. Stop looking at him so much, stop wanting him Ada.
He pointed to the room in which no one in Anna's house ever sits, and cocked his head.
"I'm really a little scared about that room."
"Me too," I admit, still smiling openly at each other. I can't seem to stop smiling, and he seems happy, like he's glad to be here. I could reach out my hand and touch his. He's so close, I could just touch his hand and slide my fingers up his arm so he'd lean toward me and...
"I'm coming down!" Anna shouted.
Of course, he's happy because he's here for his girlfriend. What were you thinking, Ada?
I walk towards the living room, blinking several times to avoid the tears that burned my eyes, I hear his footsteps behind me.
I sit on the reclining sofa, so he and Anna can sit together, so then they can say 'Ah, my books, I have to go get them', go to the kitchen and avoid seeing them. I will come back and be clean in heart and mind, I swear, I just need a second or two.
In the kitchen, I gather my things and then head over to the refrigerator, resting my head against it. Then I had some cans of grapes and a beer for myself.
I'm calm, I'm relaxed. This will turn out fine.
Although I know it won't be like that.
Silence falls when I give him his soda, a silence I am familiar with, a silence I know. I look at him and notice that he casts his gaze into the distance as if he were looking at me, his throat passing saliva. Anna finally comes down. When she does it I'm sure she must see how hard I try not to look at Chris and how hard he tries not to look at me.
Taking a sip of my beer, my throat feels closed making it harder to pass the intoxicating liquid.
"Hello," he greets us both. "That's what you say when someone comes in, you know that? Why so silence?"
“me” Chris clears his throat “Is that the only beer?” ask.
"That's progress," Anna smiles. "Just for that you earned a kiss!" I notice how Anna leans towards Chris.
But the moment Anna intended to join her lips with Chris's, he stood up and Anna froze.
"I'm going to get a beer," his voice was firm, I rarely heard him speak that way.
"I'm going with you," Anna is quick to say.
"Okay, I'll be right back" then I see him walk past me and into the kitchen.
"Hurry up!" Anna's voice sounded bubbly. “Did you see it? Did you see that?" She approached me, whispering irritably.
"I'm sorry" I wasn't saying it because of what she believed, I was saying it because I regretted kissing Chris, but not that much.
"Don't do it, I'll fix this myself," she stretched her lips and walked into the kitchen.
A few seconds later he heard some sounds, her voice being soft and Chris's voice calm. Followed by a long silence.
Silence of kisses.
I left my beer. I see Chris return, his gaze connects with mine and I notice that in his hand he was holding a can of beer like mine.
"I like this more than grapes," he had something in his eyes, something that made me take a breath.
"Me too, obviously," I responded almost obligatorily, looking at my notes.
"I know" then I look up and see him smile at me. Damn it Chris don't make it so obvious.
Where the hell was Anna? Why does it take so long in the kitchen?
"Did you start reading history?" he asks me, like he's trying to make this all normal, but he knows it's not, it's not normal at all.
"No, I don't have it yet," I replied. "Did Anna call you last night?" I opened my eyes wide looking at him. “The things that happened, I didn't think would happen. But I'm serious..."
"Why are you two looking at each other so intensely?" Then my best friend appears, my gaze almost unwillingly moves away from his and looks at Anna. She was standing in the doorway looking at us. "And Ada I was only gone for a few minutes. Did you think I was gone?" true I called her.
“We were just waiting for you,” I shake my head. “You should sit on the couch.”
"You mean with my own boyfriend?" Chris rolled his eyes. Did he like her saying that? “Are you ready to pay attention to me now?” He sits next to Chris and kisses him.
I concentrate on looking at my history book and open it. I'm not even on the right page, but I didn't care about that. What really matters is not looking at Anna and Chris kissing.
I try not to wonder what he was going to tell me before Anna interrupted, I try not to think about how his mouth feels.
He looked up and Anna was looking bad, but her eyes were worried, Chris isn't kissing her, he's opening his own history book. He gives me a look and then looks away.
"We should get started," he tells his girlfriend.
"I should have known that Ada here would manage to embarrass you and put you in 'studious boy' mode. Ada, you really owe me for taking away my real boyfriend.
"Yes," I held that history book tightly in my hands. "I know I do."
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author's note. If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment below and I will add you. Thanks for reading, remember to like, share with your friends and leave a nice comment ^^
taglist. @l34n @jetaimevous @jnkvivi @loveyoumatthewbernard @d1tzy-bl0nde @laxbabe131147 @slut4chriss @dontellaf1lms @surniolozzzprincess @sturnlova @inlovewithchriss @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsgirlsblog @nsjsnshey @always-reading @y-s-a-p @h3arts4harry
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readypanda · 3 days
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Indigo Park Spoilers (and very long post) ahead
Since Indigo Park is the newest fandom I've been dipping into, I figured I might as well make my own analysis for the game. The question I'll be discussing today is,
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WHAT EVEN ARE THESE THINGS?
(sry for bad picture quality lol)
The thing I find interesting about these mascots (Molly, Lloyd, and what we've seen of Finley) that kind of sets them apart from other monsters in the mascot horror genre is...they almost seem like they're just animals. (I'll go over evidence for this in this post)
Think about it. In other mascot horror games, we've gotten:
animatronics possessed by dead children
employees/kids surgically(?) turned into toys
people mutated by a giant ink machine
animals/people who have had their DNA spliced with a mutagenic chemical
A little girl somehow turned into a monster (I think??)(really sorry Amanda I don't know what you are)
etc.
(I'm not up to date on all these properties and I know there's many more, so forgive me if my lore understanding is less than adequate. you know how it is with indie horror)
The important note about all these is that for the most part, these mascots are intelligent, or at least have the capability of intelligence. Almost everything on this list was at one point human, in fact.
So why do I think Indigo Park is any different? What leads me to believe they aren't intelligent? (at least, the animal versions of the characters that we run from in the game. Whether they are separate from the versions of the characters Rambley interacts with is something I'll touch on later)
I think the most obvious piece of evidence in regards to Molly and Lloyd (again, not much info on Finley yet) is how Lloyd acts. He doesn't talk at all, he just stalks the main character and attacks like an animal might (with the exception of a couple times he stands on two legs or props himself up here and there).
As for Molly, I hear you saying, "But she talks! We hear her speak!" And yes, dear reader, you are right. Molly does speak. This would disprove my argument of the mascots being purely animalistic, if it weren't for this kill screen.
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Now, do we ever actually hear Molly say something that isn't a repetition or couldn't reasonably be a repetition? Has she said anything to prove her intelligence at all? (genuine question here because I haven't examined every one of her voice lines lol. If I'm wrong about this then whoopsie!)
Despite the past 250 words of speculation, though, whether they act just like animals isn't actually that important. We'll see more of them in later chapters anyway (or Lloyd and Finley at least) so that will likely prove or disprove this point with time.
The more interesting question is, what are they? Like, physically?
When Molly dies, we clearly see blood around her decapitated head. At the very least that rules out animatronics or something mechanical. In addition, in the audio of the hidden tape you get when you show Rambley one of the collectables, you can hear two staff members complaining about being replaced by "new mascots" right after they "got a new raccoon costume." This could mean a few different things, but it seems to imply that the mascots we see in this chapter are meant to be replacements for actors in suits (for meet and greets, promotion, shows, etc) and/or replacements for limited, expensive, and cumbersome animatronics. If this is true, we can also probably rule out them being human. Unless Indigo Park also had a secret human experimentation lab, which I wouldn't put past them.
I think it's too early to definitively state what these mascots are, but based on the evidence of above, I have a theory.
My personal theory is that these mascots are just animals who have been changed or mutated in some way to allow the park to have more "realistic" representations of the characters (also probably to cut down on the costs of paying a human employee). That would explain why they act the way they do and why they are so violent. They literally are just wild animals who have been warped to represent these cartoon characters.
Another important caveat to this theory is that, if this is true, then the mascots who attack us in the game are most likely NOT Rambley's "friends" as he knows them. That would explain why he doesn't call attention to Molly chasing us or Molly's dead body (with the exception of one very small reaction when he talks about the mascots). You would expect him to seem a little more upset if he thought that was his friend, but maybe on some level he knows it's not really her, just a representation of her.
That brings up another question, which is a can of worms I won't fully open here: Do Molly, Lloyd, and Finley have sentient "AI" equivalents like Rambley? If not, does Rambley know his friends aren't real? I'll let you decide.
Anyway, that just about closes my thoughts on this silly raccoon game. Thanks for letting me ramble on about it, and thanks for making it to the end of the post!
Lemme know about your own theories in regards to what these things are, or if there's any key evidence I missed. Kinda threw this together lol. Most of it will likely get disproven by future chapters but hey, thus is the price of theorizing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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madlori · 2 days
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The Claw is our master.
I've had a few folks in DMs ask me how/why/when my shipping did such a completey 180. It's a fair question. I am, after all, someone who spent the last 2 years fervently Buddie shipping, writing fic for them, doing the same hoping/analyzing/searching etc that everyone else (well...not exactly the same, I've always been skeptical of most of the theories and such because I don't believe in a production's ability to be that sneaky, covert or mischievous).
And yet, here I am. I can't really even pretend I'm still a Buddie shipper anymore. Initially I said sure, I still hope for it. I...can't in all honesty say that now. I've firmly decamped for BuckTommy Land. Is this a recipe for heartbreak if they eventually breakup? Sure, but that's always a risk. No more than shipping a non-canon pairing, anyway.
And there's nothing wrong with shipping a non-canon pairing. People do it every day. Hell, it's practically the backbone of fandom. Obsessing about ships being canon is a one-way ticket to dissatisfaction and sometimes total unraveling. I've seen it happen more times than I can count over 30 years in online fandoms.
But if that's the case, why didn't I stay on Team Buddie? Why did I defect so thoroughly that I'm at the point now where not only do I not think Buddie will ever happen, I don't want it to, because I now want to see something different from those two characters, something I believe we will actually get from the writers.
The answer to that question is: I have no idea.
People ask this like I'm somehow in control of it. I'm not. The Fandom Brain is like The Claw in Toy Story. The Claw is our Master. The Claw decided who will go and who will stay.
Fandom Brain is my master. It decides what I'm going to ship, what I'm going to be fannish about and what I'm not, and when I'm going to stop feeling fannish about something. I have zero say in the matter, I'm just along for the ride. At some point in every fandom I have ever been in, my Fandom Brain has, usually with no provocation, decided "Ok we're done with this fandom now." And nothing I can do will make that not true. I can't force it. I can't cajole it. It just is.
Similarly, Fandom Brain has decided "Welp, we're done with this pairing now. We like THIS pairing now. Proceed." Are there reasons? I'm sure there are.
Is it just that it's a canon pairing? Possibly. There is something very seductive about a canon pairing after so long of looking for crumbs and tiny hints where there (mostly) none to find. But I've shipped plenty of non-canon pairings before.
Is it that I prefer Tommy/Lou to Eddie/Ryan? Absolutely not. I love Eddie, always have. I admit to being slightly more of a Buck girlie, but that doesn't mean Eddie means nothing to me.
Is it the immediate gratification? Maybe. Is it just how the relationship's being written? Possibly. Is it just a mental adjustment for my belief that Buddie will never happen, and Eddie will always be straight? Likely. But that doesn't change the outcome.
So here I sit, just...yep. Sometimes it just be like that. I didn't choose this, it's just what my brain decided was going to work for me going forward. If this goes up in smoke, my brain will choose something else, whether it's to run back to Buddie, or be done with 9-1-1 entirely, or who knows what else?
The good news for any of you who follow my writing is that I'm still working on the next Husbros installment. That universe is removed enough from the canon that it almost feels separate to me now, and I'm still feeling connected to it. Yes, I've written a few short BT fics, but so far I've not had any lengthy or involved plot bunnies for it.
So there you have it. I didn't choose the thug life, the thug life chose me. I don't know if I'd have chosen this if I could, but tbh I'm having a pretty good time with it so far, so. That's probably a big part of the reason.
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secretwhumplair · 2 days
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Don't you want a bath?
727 words | Izara and the serpent king (sequel to Fighting spirit)
Content | Slavery, dehumanization, manhandling, defiant whumpee, carewhumper, implied/mentioned: nudity, future noncon, punishment, victim blaming
Notes | Izara's introduction to the serpent king continues! He hates it!
Taglist | @yet-another-heathen @echo-goes-aaa @whumpinator @neverthelass
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Izara was dragged on to the next room.
It had large, arched windows, looking out over the palace grounds. It was on some sort of terrace—which made sense, there was a sizable pool in its center, a bath, Izara realized—and if he leapt just right-
»What are you looking at, little thing?«
The serpent king had seen through him, Izara could tell from the amusement in his voice. Like he knew just how helpless Izara was. The worst part was that it was true.
Izara didn’t answer. What was he supposed to say, anyway? He just forced himself to look at the serpent king, who had slid into the water, then dropped his gaze to the edge of the pool. He could vaguely imagine what the serpent king wanted with him here; he was already naked, after all. He tried not to think about it too hard. His whole body already hurt. Maybe the guard, still holding him, would get a turn too.
He tried not to think about it.
The guard marched him over to the edge of the pool, and the serpent king moved over to look up at him. It was the smallest comfort, looking down on him like this, but he knew it wouldn’t last.
»Come join me.« The softness of the serpent king’s voice couldn’t conceal that this was an order.
Izara didn’t want to move. He knew what was going to happen. It would be worse if he disobeyed, too.
There was no way out.
His eyes drifted to the windows again. Freedom was so close, and yet utterly unreachable.
»Come, sweet thing. You can let him go,« he added at the guard, and then added something in their language. Izara could imagine his punishment, should he disobey, being outlined to be carried out by the guard at the first wrong move.
For now, the guard let go of his arm again and positioned themself between him and the windows.
Izara’s hands—his newly freed hands, for whatever reason—curled into fists again. Of course.
The serpent king still looked up at him, quizzically. »Don’t you want a bath?«
Izara could have screamed at the duplicity. Of course he wanted a bath. He was desperate for a bath, even if he doubted he would ever feel actually clean again. What he didn’t want was for another master to toy with him, make it worse, and least of all he wanted for it to be disguised as some sort of mercy.
He could see what would happen if he refused, as clear as day. He would probably be locked up somewhere in a cell, or perhaps made to do the dirtiest work the king could think of, without the slightest opportunity of washing himself, and then he would be told it was him who chose this. He had been offered a bath, after all.
He ground his teeth, swallowing down tears. »I do.«
»Good. I want you to bathe as well.« The serpent king stretched out an arm, as if offering to help him into the pool.
»I don’t want to take a bath with you.« He was furious enough he barely felt fear at the impossible thing he was saying.
»I’m afraid that is not a choice I am offering you,« the serpent king said softly. »I want to get to know your body.«
Of course. Of course that was what he wanted. Izara felt sick.
»I won’t hurt you.«
Izara didn’t believe that for a second. A good bedslave would pretend not to be hurt far beyond the threshold of what counted as pain for real people, and that was probably the serpent king’s reference point, if he wasn’t straight-up lying.
He was not a good slave. He would forever refuse to be.
For as long as he could.
For as long as his waning strength lasted him.
He couldn’t fight the tears forever, and now they were welling up. »Come on, little thing,« the serpent king said, even softer. »It’s alright. Come on in.«
He reached further and took Izara by the hand, only grabbing on tight when Izara tried to pull away. »Come on.«
There was no way out.
He let the serpent king pull him into the water with the same uncanny gentleness he had displayed this whole time, and he hated himself for it.
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teaspoonnebula · 2 days
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Hey tumblr, can we do something awesome?
Don't Go Into The Cellar! is this wonderful theatre company that's brought me so much giddy glee over the past couple of years. I feel like 'theatre company' is almost a misnomer because the entire thing is spearheaded by actor and writer Jonathan Goodwin.
At a performance, he comes out and completely NAILS a macabre tale from Victorian or Edwardian literature. It's generally spooky, and yet somehow, it's always so warm, so fun. I think it's because you can tell you're watching someone doing something they utterly love. A passion for the literature, for the theatre, for the characters he portrays, radiates out of him.
(And like... his Sherlock Holmes. Augh. When I first saw him perform I was like IT'S HIM HE'S HERE. I'm not saying visually, he's not a living Paget illustration or something, I'm saying he Nails The Vibes)
I just want DGITC to succeed and go on succeeding, and for everyone involved to have the financial security needed for that to happen.
Anyway, long story short he's been a little short on funds lately and started to do fortnightly live performances on livestream and I have this vision of a bunch of us turning up and giving him a wonderful appreciative audience.
So, it would be awesome if you could...
Check out his existing recordings! I have linked one above :D Is the video quality the best? No. Doesn't matter, watch it and bask in the fun.
The next live performance (at the time of writing) is Sunday June 2nd at 9pm BST, on Facebook! Save the date!
And last but not least consider the GoFundMe for the theatre company <3
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A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav
Chapter 10: Want
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Summary: Astarion finally leads Tav to a pretty, private clearing. ❤️‍🔥
Rating and Warnings: 18+ Explicit Content ❤️‍🔥. Kissing, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Unprotected Sex But No Pregnancy, Sexual Abuse and Recovery, Dissociation, Flashbacks. A/N: Please mind the tags! This will be a horny and hopeful story, but I also want to honor and explore Astarion’s sexual abuse and recovery journey. Full tag list on AO3. Read on AO3. Chapter 9. Read from the beginning. Tav was late. Astarion resisted the urge to pace and instead stayed in position, leaning against a thick oak tree. He had brought a spare bedroll with him, which he had fluffed and arranged nicely on the forest floor, alongside a fresh bottle of Ithbank he had stolen from their supplies. He had even brought the nice glass chalices he had “found.” He didn’t have any flowers or chocolates, but at least he had decent wine. Obviously, he had removed his shirt. Once Tav entered the clearing he would reveal himself, his lean body a vision in the soft moonlight, and begin the romantic monologue he had prepared. 
He was looking forward to it. He had used the same rote moves over and over again in the bars, the flop houses, the brothels. With strangers, it was better to stick to a safe script, even the repetitive one that had been trained into him. But this was a rare moment of theatricality he could plan. 
Crickets chirped. An owl hooted. A few fireflies flickered and danced across the clearing. It really was a lovely spot.
He had spent a long time thoroughly choreographing this encounter. It had to be perfect. Would Tav like it soft and romantic? That was always a safe bet. Or would she surprise him? Was Tav secretly a naughty little thing underneath her do-gooder veneer? Was she as bossy in bed as she was outside of it, or would she attend his every command? He wasn’t completely sure what Tav would like, but he had a few educated guesses. Most people liked the same kinds of things anyway.
Tav was a bard. Given their reputation, he assumed she would at least be competent. 
Finally, he hears new footsteps approach and Tav steps gingerly out of the darkness. She’s freshly bathed and dressed in a loose, flowing peasant blouse that sits low upon her shoulders, revealing her gorgeous collar bones. On cue, Astarion strides forward into a moonbeam, angling himself so that the light catches the hard planes of his chest, the hills and valleys of his abdominals. Tav is appropriately awestruck: she looks him up and down and up again, her pupils dilating with undisguised surprise and desire. 
“There you are. I’ve been waiting,” he purrs eagerly. He prowls towards her. “Waiting since the moment I laid eyes on you.” His voice is soft and low with promise. “Waiting,” He pauses for effect. “To have you.”
Tav’s lip quirks. “Really? From the moment you laid eyes on me?” She questions. “So, was it from the moment you saw me on the Nautiloid and thought I was a Mindflayer? Or was it when you threatened me at knifepoint?”
Astarion purses his lips. He had forgotten about all of that sordid business. He was just trying to say something alluring.
“The point of the matter is, I’ve been aching to have you,” he counters smoothly. 
“Well, you don’t have me yet,” Tav teases.
“Don’t I?” He softly calls her bluff. “You’re here! And I don’t think you want to talk.” He steps forward, bringing his hand up to her face. “I think you want to be known.” He brushes a few stray locks behind her ears. His fingers linger against her cheek. “To be tasted,” he whispers. 
“And what do you want?” Tav breathes, her eyes wide and glassy. What a question. He wants so many things. Power. Control. Vengeance. Freedom. Safety. But in this clearing, there’s only one right answer. 
“What do any of us want? Pleasure.” He holds her gaze, lowering his lashes in a sultry stare. “Yours.” His hands grab her waist. “Mine.” He pulls her body close. “Our collective ecstasy.” He studies Tav’s face, his eyes flickering back and forth across her features. She studies him back, her eyes boring into his own like she’s searching desperately for something. Suddenly, Astarion feels insecure. Why else would she be here if not for this?
“That is what you want, isn’t it?” He asks apprehensively. “To lose yourself in me.” 
It’s what they always want. In these moments Astarion is not himself. If he exists, he is a pair of pecs, a ripple of abs, talented fingers, a wet mouth, a hard cock, a tight and willing hole. He is merely a reflection of his partner’s desires. It doesn’t matter what he wants. 
Tav places a hand upon his own, leading it up to her mouth. She places a light kiss across the back of his knuckles.
“What I want is the chance to get to know a man who seems-" she turns his hand over. “Clever.” She kisses the palm of his hand, her soft lips lingering against the sensitive skin. “Witty.” She kisses his wrist. She ghosts her mouth up his arm, her warm breath trailing over his cool flesh. “Cunning.” She places a scorching kiss on his shoulder. “Ambitious.” She lays an open-mouthed kiss at the base of his neck and Astarion stifles an involuntary sigh. She moves upward, finally to his mouth.
“Fierce,” she declares. He instinctively leans in and captures her lips with his. She parts her lips for him and Astarion stops himself from groaning into her mouth. She kisses him back softly, her plush lips moving against his with a tender fervor that makes him feel dizzy. He forces himself to break the kiss, dropping his hands to the backs of her thighs and hoisting her up. Tav instinctively knows to jump as he lifts, wrapping her legs around him as he pivots smoothly to press her into the trunk of the nearby oak tree, pinning her there with the weight of his frame.
He kisses her again, basking in the passionate, sensual slide of her mouth as they embrace against the tree. It always felt wrong to allow himself to enjoy the tenderness of a kiss, knowing what awaited his partners. But this is a moment of his own. As he dips his tongue into her hot, wet mouth he finds that it is not enough. He wants more. More heat, more touch, more connection. Tav’s fingers thread through his curls and he shivers in both delight and dread. But her fingers stay soft, her grip stays kind and the longer she caresses him, the more he finds that he likes her attention. He squeezes her ass and Tav releases a breathy sigh into his mouth.
“Please,” she breathes. He buries his face into her neck, where he can’t help but smile against her skin.
“Please what, darling?” He teases, the smirk evident in his voice as he lays a kiss against her throat. Tav guides his face back up to hers. She pushes herself against him, clinging to his chest, and for a moment they are perfectly balanced upright. Then, Tav uses her weight to tip him backward and they tumble into the downy grass. They land in a playful tangle, Tav now seated atop him. She arches her neck in a sinful curve.
“Bite me,” she begs. “Please.” Her thighs clench around his waist. “Please, Astarion.”
Astarion surges forward, flipping them over. He was ready to forego this, but now that Tav has asked for his bite he has no qualms about giving it to her. He dives down to her neck, sinking his teeth greedily into her. Tav cries out, but her cry of pain quickly turns to pleasure as he takes his fill. As he drinks, he slots himself between her legs, settling his weight on top of her as she trembles under him. She’s perfect like this, pinned beneath him with his fangs in her throat. His neglected cock throbs for attention.
Too soon, Astarion rips himself away from her neck. As much as he loves this, he wants her alert. He needs her to feel everything he plans to do to her. He laps at her pretty wounds, swallowing every last drop. Tav bucks beneath him, seeking friction. He has mercy, grinding his hardness down against her. 
“As delicious as this is, there’s something else I want to taste,” He whispers in her ear. He moves lower, pulling the loose fabric of her top down beneath her perfect, round breasts. She isn’t wearing any kind of bra or stays, a delightful surprise. He lavishes each breast with nips and kisses, her nipples hardening under his touch. He takes one in his mouth, circling her nipple expertly with his tongue as he kneads the other. Her tits feel perfect in his hands, their softness a beckoning temptation. Tav quivers and sighs as he caresses her, petting his head in a way that he imagines is loving. He wonders what it would be like to bite her here. To lay his head against the pillow of her breast and hear her hypnotic heartbeat. But as beautiful as that thought is, her chest is only an apéritif. Tav groans when Astarion moves even further down her body.
Astarion smirks to himself as he descends. He is very, very good with his mouth. 
He unlaces her skirt, then hooks his fingers into her smallclothes, sliding them both completely off and depositing them somewhere irrelevant. He lays a kiss on her ankle, then her knee, then on the inside of her thigh, where a major artery throbs with precious blood. He wants to sink his teeth into it. Instead, he lays another kiss against her plush skin.
He leans forward between Tav’s splayed legs where her wet, pretty cunt glistens. He inhales deeply, openly enjoying the musk of her arousal. He looks up at her from between her legs and catches her staring, propped up on her elbows, as he knew she would be. Maintaining eye contact, he dips down and licks a slow, sensual line across her opening and up to her clit. Tav sighs, her freshly-kissed breasts heaving as she arches her perfect neck upwards. The bruise of his bite stares back at him as Astarion dips back down.
He begins with hot, heavy strokes of his tongue, savoring her taste. Her essence mixes with the lingering taste of blood still on his tongue and he moans at the heady combination. His cock twitches and a spurt of precum suddenly drips from his tips as he sucks and laps at her delicate folds. Gods, she's making such a mess of him.
He circles the delicate pearl of her clit, gradually increasing speed and suction as he works. Her hole clenches needily and he dips one, then another, elegant finger inside her, stroking her silken walls in time with the swirl of his tongue. She’s dripping with want, her channel slick and eager for him. The glide is practically effortless. He adds just a little bit of oomph behind his thrusts, jostling her hips as if he were fucking her with his cock and not his fingers. A small prelude of what is to come. She is going to take his cock so, so well.
“Astarion,” she pants. He moans against her in answer, a deep purr of approval. He crooks his fingers inside of her, massaging her relentlessly. He can feel her twitching, tightening around him. She’s almost there, he can feel it. She grinds against his face and he holds firm, providing her with the sweet friction she needs. 
“Astarion!” She clenches around his fingers, gasping as she comes in tight, rippling spasms. He rides her through it, never stopping his ministrations. Not until the sweet undulations of her cunt cease and Tav relaxes in a sweaty, spent puddle. His face is a lovely, sticky mess. He gives her one last sinful lick before moving back to nuzzle her inner thigh. She whines at the loss of his tongue and fingers but he peppers her body with apologetic kisses. She grabs a desperate, but still gentle, fistful of his curls, rubbing his scalp in smooth, soothing circles. Astarion shudders at this new, intimate pleasure. 
“Bite me. Please. Again,” Tav whimpers.
“How could I refuse you,” Astarion groans. He hooks one of her thighs over his shoulders, opening her up even more for him. He finally sinks his teeth into the artery in her thigh, relishing in the decadence of such an intimate bite. It’s perfect, exactly what he had wanted. He sucks hard and Tav jerks beneath him, her cunt gushing with renewed wetness. As he drinks, he snakes his hand back up to her clit, rubbing fast circles against her slick flesh. Tav cries out, whining as she quickly approaches a new peak. He releases her thigh, lapping at his bite needily. 
“So good, Tav,” he slurs huskily, both her blood and her cum dripping messily down his chin. “So good for me, my darling.” Tav shudders, looking up at him with open adoration in her eyes. “My favorite.” Her face scrunches up, her body pulled tight with pleasure. He holds her gaze. “You’re such a good girl,” he moans for her.
Tav comes for the second time, her back arching off the forest floor as her empty pussy spasms. She releases the sweetest moan as she orgasms again. When she’s finished she reaches for him, pulling him up her body and back to her mouth, where she kisses him with her own deep and fervent hunger.
“You’re perfect, Astarion,” she says, kissing his cheek, then his neck, then his shoulder. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs worshipfully. She reaches down to cup his aching cock, rubbing him through the fabric of his trousers. Astarion groans softly at the contact.
“Your turn,” she says with a playful smirk, and Astarion realizes that she intends to work her way down. Tav begins to flip their positions but Astarion holds firm, anchoring himself above her. He wants her. But that’s not the point of this.
“Not tonight, my love. Tonight, I want to positively ravish you,” he insists. Tav groans with thwarted longing, but still arches herself up against him to kiss his treacherous lips. 
“You sweet, sweet man,” she says, laying back down beneath him. He knows it isn’t true. Tav only has half of the story, by his own design. Astarion knows he isn’t sweet or kind in reality, but maybe he could be. For a night. For Tav.
“Let me show you just how sweet I can be,” he says, returning his fingers to her swollen pussy. He knows she’s already dripping for it, but he longs to feel the proof of her desire again. He did this to her. He lines himself up, teasing the tip of his cock against her drenched opening. He rubs himself languidly between her legs, coating his cock in her nectar as he continues to tease her.

 “Astarion, please,” Tav whines, grinding her hips against him to match his rhythm. A shiver runs up his spine at her wanton cries. He loves it when she begs for it, desperate for anything he will give her. He wants to push it, but he stops himself. He said he would be sweet. 
“Anything for my favorite,” he hums, easing himself inside of her with a shallow thrust. He works his way slowly inside of her, enjoying the way her body stretches to accommodate his girth. Tav mewls when he’s finally seated inside of her, and Astarion gives an experimental grind that makes her gasp in pleasure. 

When he feels her body relax around him he sets a firm, but steady, pace, humping into her with practiced abandon. His cock drags along her tight walls, spearing her core over and over. He angles himself up against the delicious spot inside her that he knows will make her see stars. He finds it easy to fall into this rhythm, to let his mind wander away while his partner writhes in ecstasy. To let his hand find their clit, toying with it perfunctorily as they languish beneath him. 
“Faster, please,” someone begs. 


“So polite,” He chuckles darkly, increasing his pace. Sweat begins to bead along his brow. A hand comes up to wipe it away, jolting him out of his reverie. Lips find his own, but it’s too much right now. He gives them a quick peck then straightens his spine, keeping his face far away from that tempting and forbidden throat. 
“Astarion,” a voice calls, breathless and keening. Fingers trace over his chest, running down his side, grasping at his hip. They begin to move across his back, dangerously close to it. He immediately laces those curious fingers in his own, pinning them above their head. He begins pounding in earnest, obfuscating with his body. 
He feels his partner shatter underneath him, their hole clenching and sucking around his length. Their pleasure ripples through him in tight, pleasing waves and he slows his hips to a gentle roll as they come down from their climax. Tav squeezes his hand in hers, turning her face to kiss his knuckles again. 
 “Come here,” she beckons, drawing him down to her chest with her other hand. Astarion obeys but turns his face away from her delectable neck. Any moment, He will interrupt-
“That was so good,” she says. “You’re so good.” She coaxes him further up her body, angling his face towards the crook of her neck. She allows him to hide there, unaware of the tempest that wells inside of him.

 “Please, take your pleasure, Astarion,” she urges, rubbing those diabolical circles into his scalp. “I want to feel you come,” she pleads. His hips twitch and he jerks inside of her, his body moving of its own accord. He has whispered words like those a thousand times, but Tav sounds so sincere when she says them.
It’s been so long, too long since this happened with another person. He doesn’t know if he can. But he wants to. Her arms cradle him as he moves against her, trying to lose himself in the way that he’s supposed to. That should be instinctual, that should be his by right. 
He buries his face in her neck, resisting the desire to bite down. He feels the warmth of her body, breathes in her comforting scent. This isn’t just anyone. It’s Tav. Tav. Tav, Tav, Tav, Tav, Tav-
He comes hard, releasing himself deeply inside of her. A moan tears itself from his throat as he is wracked with full-body contractions, pleasure coursing through him like lightning. He takes big, gasping, unnecessary gulps of air as he hurtles over this unexpected cliff. Tav holds him through it all, whispering kind, encouraging nothings. 
She turns to kiss him and he lets her, grounding himself in the push and pull of her lips. He opens his mouth to her, wanting to feel it all. Tav props them both up on their sides, brushing his sweaty curls out of his face. He can feel her smiling into the kiss and it makes him smile too, just a little. 
“You forgot handsome,” he says after a moment, breaking their kiss.
“What?” Tav asks blearily.
“Handsome. Funny, clever, cunning, ambitious, fierce, and handsome,” he explains, as if it were obvious. Tav snorts inelegantly, a cute puff of air tickling his face.
“And very, very handsome,” she concedes, settling against his chest.
They stay like that for a long time, silently luxuriating in each other’s arms. Astarion can’t remember the last time he trusted this peace. He’s waiting for it to be interrupted by the the click of a door handle, the muted tap of a staff against ugly carpet, and the red glow of his sire’s cruel eyes, freezing them both in place on one of the overstuffed, impersonal beds of the palace. 
Tav shifts in his arms and he resists the urge to hold her tighter. Her hand strokes his chest in a consistent, easy sweep that lulls them both into a deep, peaceful rest. 
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