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#when he's all but forgotten how to love again
vivwritesfics · 2 days
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hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?
a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah
love youuuuuu
I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon
Verstappen reader
Warnings: light smut, fingering
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When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.
It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.
She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.
So, he flew her out to Qatar.
For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.
But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.
Neither could Lando, either.
He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.
"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.
Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.
""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.
The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.
Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.
"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.
She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.
Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?
That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.
"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.
Fuck, he needed her now.
Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.
It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.
The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.
But he was the one who didn't want her.
As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."
She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"
He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.
She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."
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Wait for you Pt.2 | L.N.
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Lando Norris x reader
Summary: Nothing can stand between true love. But what if said love is taken from one's memory?
Warnings: angst, fluff:3
Word count: ~4.9K
A/N: Hello hello! I have finally got aroud to finishing this piece! Hope ya'll enjoy it <3
Lando could not concentrate, not for more than a sentence before his mind was once again playing you as his favourite movie.
Your smile, your eyes it all felt too good to be true and lord… the kiss. Lando had to physically restrain himself every time his mind went there. All he wanted was to run out of this room full of people talking about plans for the upcoming race and just run to you.
His skin was itchy and on fire from waiting for your touch. Now that you’ve given him a dose, given him hope, he was hooked with anticipation for more.
After the conference everyone dispersed into their own rooms except for Lando who followed Oscar to his driver’s room.
“Oscar you will not believe what happened!” Lando giggled as he closed the door.
Thus began the recollection of the touching moment on the roof top with you.
“- and then I asked her out and she said yes, and even gave me a kiss on my cheek before I entered the conference room! Can you imagine that Oscar?! She kissed me!” excitement was pooling around Lando’s lower lash line.
Oscar had forgotten what a truly happy Lando looked like and no matter how tired he was now, he did not want to be anywhere but right here on the uncomfortably tough sofa, listening to his friend talk about his love, especially because that love was you.
“Well that sounds like good news mate, where are you gonna take her by the way?” Oscar watched the life drain from Lando’s face as the excitement for the rendezvous converted to pure stress of the situation.
“Oh my God?! Where am I going to take her?!” Lando started pacing around the small room in circles making Oscar feel positively dizzy just from following Lando with his eyes.
“HELP ME OSCAR!” The older male pulled at his own hair out of sheer desperation for someone else’s input.
“Well just take her where you’ve taken her before, it’ll help her jog the memory,” Oscar answered calmly, rubbing his eyes. Lando’s pacing really did make him dizzy.
“Wait, that’s actually a really good idea. She loved our first date, she was never tired from talking about it,” Lando‘s eyes sparkled with the memory of your hands wrapping around his every time you told someone about your first date. Those were the moments when Lando understood just how deeply he felt for you and how you loved him just as much.
“Exactly. Everything is gonna work out, I can feel it,” Oscar laid an encouraging hand on his teammates shoulder. If reassurance was what Lando needed, Oscar will be there to provide.
The next few days at the paddock were filled with shy glances and giggles as the date spurred the two to secure their connection. Your laughter was never ending as so were Lando’s bright smiles. It seemed that every sentence Lando could think of sounded like the funniest joke to your ears.
While Oscar explained their upcoming race schedule to Lando, comically unbeknownst to him, Lando’s eyes were trained only on one person, as for all his attention too.
“What do you think about that Lando?” Oscar looked into the eyes of his friend only to find his point of attention trained behind himself rather than at him.
As he turned to find the culprit of Lando’s attention, he found no one else but you perched on a counter, lit up by the golden evening sun. Lando giggled as you waved at him and lifted his hand to wave back at you, both of your blushes ever-growing.
“Oh c’mon man, we’ve been through this!” Oscar’s eyes rolled back into his skull.
Damn these two love birds. As much as Oscar was thrilled for his friends once again being together the shy-giggly faze is just as annoying as it was a year ago.
You winked at Lando and he almost lost his stance.
“Really?” Oscar signs.
“She’s flirting with me!” Lando became defensive clutching his chest.
“Mate she’s literally your girlfriend…”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Lando’s smile never left his face as he watched your eyes focus back on the book that lay rested on your thighs.
In that moment something clicked for Lando. Life is truly as good as it can get. All uncertainty has been washed away by hope. It truly felt like you were healing him with every single glance. Perhaps it was just Lando’s imagination but whenever he met your eyes they were yours, he knew those eyes and for the first time in a long time Lando could let himself cry out of happiness when thinking of you. The clouds have dispersed, with each passing day you remembered more and said things that would make Lando stop in his tracks.
Lando no longer needed to look for you, because you were already there…
The over-packed luggage bag fell out of your hands at the sweet sight of a white fluffy bed. Lord knows you wasted no time jumping into the bed after kicking your shoes off at the door.
“Ughhh, this is heaven,” your voice was muffled by numerous pillows, but Lando still heard it clearly.
“I’m gonna set up my sim here, okay?” He asked, unsure if you wished for him to leave or stay. After all sleep was what you favoured over anything.
“Yeah it’s no problem, you know I don’t mind you being around,” you lifted your head slightly and shot him a smile.
“You’re the best!” Lando smiled in excitement and in a few minutes the desk area of the hotel bedroom became a sim racing corner.
“cute,” you admired the man only loud enough for yourself to hear.
It felt like only a couple seconds had passed before Lando was once again calling your name.
“Y/nnnn, are you sleeping?” His eyes met your half lidded ones. Gosh you looked cute, all sleepy… and so kissable.
“I am now,” you yawned the words out, eyes not yet fully open.
“Good, you better not be sleeping, I need you to see me win this,” his concentration in the game never faltered even with you on his mind.
“Don’t worry I’m awake,” you yawned once again making Lando chuckle. “You know, you could just wake me up when you finish and tell me the result?”
“Nooo,” he whined, “I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me?” He turned back for a second just to make sure you were behind him.
And you were. You were sitting there wrapped in a blanket, eyes big and oh so soft. You were there with him and that was all he ever needed.
You climbed out of the bed and stood behind him, hands in his hair and a kiss on his temple to which he let out a satisfactory sigh. ”You’re going to win Lan, I know you can.”
“I’ll only win if you’re by my side, love.” He crossed the finish line and turned around kissing you deeply before you could even congratulate him. His hands were quick to hook under your thighs, your warm skin tickling his fingers. He picked you up effortlessly, nestling the both of you into the bed that had already soaked up the scent of your floral perfume. It’s the same one he gifted you on your last birthday.
Your hands tangled around him, pulling him closer until you breathe the same air. His eyes were glossy, pupils dilated to a point where you could barely see the storm of green and blue. Your fingertips draged across his soft skin and to his silky curls. He was everywhere and you hoped it always stayed that way.
You’re still drunk on quality sleep when the morning light pulled you out of the peaceful slumber. Your hands instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed ghosting over the empty mattress, “Lan?”
A pout formed on your lips as you found the bed empty and void of any and all warmth.
Suddenly your eyes shot open but then again closed up, pain of the bright lighting residing in your retina.
You turned to your left side. Empty bedside. No Lando.
You felt yourself swimming in confusion. Your memories mixing with moments unseen before.
Was I dreaming? Dreaming of Lando in my bed? Quite puzzling indeed. 
But what puzzled you most was that you were in Spain, but Lando was not in your bed.
That revelation, for some unknown reason, did not sit well with you.
Overwhelmed you sat up on the bed, trying so hard to understand why for the love of god you were looking for Lando in your bed.
Why would Lando be here? Why was he in my dream? Was it really a dream?
You got off the bed and started looking for any clues that the dream was not actually a dream but reality.
Although the only thing you found is yourself feeling something for Lando Norris you had not felt before.
Dream or reality? This only served to confuse your heart further.
Your eyes caught the clock on the wall, a clear sign that you should hurry as the slender black arrow was about to meet the number seven.
Today was a free day for the grid. That meant that you were to meet Oscar and Lando in the hotel gym and later head for a complimentary breakfast with the two.
Hanging at the gym with them was not as fun as most imagine. Without their active energy being aimed at making jokes it was easy to get bored since you were not in a mood for a workout.
After walking around for a good five minutes you ran into Alonso.
Ever since you first came to formula 1 Fernando fit right into your life, kind of like a father figure at most times and sometimes as an older and much wiser friend.
For that very reason you were now sat at one of the many leather benches talking the older man’s ear off about everything that had been going left instead of turning out right.
“Every day whenever I’m left alone it just gets so annoying, like I truly have nothing to do, but I have nothing I want to do. Like I’m just trying to sit somewhere and relax but it somehow feels too bland,” a heavy sign exited your lungs making Fernando put down his weights and put all of his attention on you now.
“Take them,” he was clutching a plastic earphone box lightly in his left hand, extending it towards you.
“Don’t you need them?” you lifted your eyes out of curiosity but did not dare take them just yet.
Fernando was quick to brush your question off, “Ech, I don’t like these wireless things, I always loose them.”
Your eyes locked on the case. Do I even like listening to music?
“Don’t worry these are unused, I got them from PR this morning,” he let out a chuckle, unnerved by your silence after being surrounded by your voice for so long.
“Are you sure?” you were uncertain but Fernando thrust the case into your hands and ruffled your hair as you smiled up at the man. “Thank you Fernando.”
“It’s all my pleasure sweetheart, it’s about time you started listening to your music again.”
Fernando walked away before you could inquire him about your taste of music, and how he knew so much about it.
There it was again, that uncomfortable feeling. You felt as if you were behind in class, like everyone knew what was going on and which formula to use for a certain problem, but you did not.
Everyone around you seemed to know things about you before you got to discover them yourself and that did nothing but make you uncomfortable in your own skin.
That is where the spiralling set in.
All of a sudden the world shifted off its natural axes and you were no longer there. Your words seemed to get stuck in your head, your movements too slow and every time you tried to pay attention your mind was engulfed in a thick cloud.
It was all messing you up to further close in on yourself.
Lando noticed. Of course Lando noticed. Even if it was only a week, Lando noticed…
There was one thing Lando actually paid attention to and it was you. But once again his great attraction to you was beginning to pain him, little by little scratching at his heart. With each cold shoulder and weak smile he could feel it, he could feel you moving further from him while he was stationary, just a few steps behind you, nonetheless too far than he’d like to be.
Lando’s eyes drifted around the white ceiling of his driver’s room as he tried to trace his steps back and see what might have caused you to stray from him. Was it something he did? If it was he’d better fix it before it became too late. But what could he have done?
You had the date about three weeks ago, that was fine, great even, and he hadn’t had you so happy and respondent in months. Then there was the free week before Spain which he spent with his family while you went to Australia with Oscar, but you texted and called every single day, most days it was you who initiated the calls and reassured him that he was not keeping you from sleep as the two of you were separated by many, many hours.
Then there was the night you landed in Spain. Lando had waited in the airport for hours, wishing he was the one to take you to the hotel and surprise you with your favourite flowers.
He remembered Spain last year. He could never forget, it was your first time at a race as a couple, the relationship still fresh as a wildflower. Lando was hoping for a win, and he felt he could win with you by his side, like he did the night before on the sim, only because you were there watching him with your soft loving and undeniably sleepy eyes…
He expected to jog your memory with the help of the familiar Spanish scenery however it appeared to blow up right in his face the next day.
He picked you up at the airport and you were happy. Right? Yes. You jumped into his arms, you held his hand and even let a tear escape your eye as you held the flowers close to your chest. On the ride to the hotel you talked so much, excitedly telling him about all kinds of aussie adventures you, Oscar and his girlfriend Lilly got up to. He listened all through them with a pearly smile, even if he had heard the stories before from Oscar, asking you questions while knowing the answers to them only because he knew you’d feel cared for and appreciated if he asked. And to end the short but splendid night you kissed goodnight after he walked you to your room. It was meant to be a thank you for his kindness but the real thank you for him where your eyes.
Your eyes were his weakness since day one.
But the next day your eyes were not your eyes anymore… They were not yours ever since.
Was this it? Is this how life is going to be now? He will work and work to get just a bit of you for you to forget it all the next day.
He had heard about such a thing from doctors how some amnesia patients have clear sky days when they become who they were before but even a slight factor can alter that and not an hour later they can forget all that happened before.
Does this mean you will never remember him?
What if you never love him again…
“Lan get up you muppet we have a race starting in 20,” Oscar yanked the older boy awake from his daydream and watched him return to reality. “Everything okay mate?” he observed the tired eyes of his friend.
“Yeah… let’s go.” Lando trained his gaze away from Oscar and left the room first. As much as he needed to talk about you now, he just couldn’t do it, not to Oscar, not again…
Your fingers mindlessly wrapped around your ring pulling it on and off constantly before your skin started burning, but that didn’t stop your behaviour.
Thanks to your mind running faster than an F1 car you’ve figured out a few things this week.
First. You liked Lando Norris. And that’s great.
But dreaming about him being your boyfriend? Now that’s a bit too much.
Second. You liked music. More than you initially thought you did.
Third. You liked cornflowers. The blue ones.
You didn’t know that before. You couldn’t really think of a flower you liked before…
Fourth. You had no idea who you were.
There it was again, that unshakable feeling out of alignment. Like the whole world had tilted and you were no longer on the same axis as before. Was it only a few degrees off but you felt worlds apart from the days before.
Your heart was racing again, lungs refusing to take in the oxygen, though it was all around. It was easy and natural to breathe, something no one needed to think about to control, it just happened and for some reason you were once again stuck unable to control your own self, just as you were unable to calm your pounding head.
You entered the garage where Oscar and Lando stood listening to one of their engineers explaining something to them animatedly. The earbuds in your ears were almost unnoticeable, even with the melodic tune, until you made eye contact with Lando’s clear blues did the familiar tune follow.
But I knew you,
Dancin' in your Levi's,
Drunk under a streetlight,
I knew you.
All of a sudden it hit you quite literally like a truck full of bricks. And the world completely swung off its axis.
The memories spun as a wind whirl in front of your eyes.
It played like a movie.
Your eyes filled with tears before you could turn away and leave the crowded space. Too confused and much too overwhelmed with what you’ve just remembered.
There was Lando, and he was everywhere. He was holding your hands and he was kissing you and he was sleeping in your bed. But you didn’t understand where all of this came from, when just moments ago you were trying to figure out if you even like the man, now you felt such a tremendous pull towards him, it scared you.
Lando had watched your small smile fade into a look of confusion and your eyes filled with tears. Your last look was it. Eyebrows pulled together, eyes glossy. Something he had not seen in months now. Your whole face was contoured with memories of you two together. And he could see that, he could see it from your eyes, the eyes that recognised him once more, only they were not glistening with love but with salty tears.
She remembered me. She is crying.
Panic ran Lando’s blood cold. He wanted to chase after you but before he could take one step in your direction a firm hand on his shoulder held him back.
Lando looked at the hand before lifting his eyes to meet the concerned eyes of his teammate, “Lando I know what she means to you, but you have a race starting in 5 minutes. We need to get in those cars.”
“But she’s crying Oscar, something is wrong.” Lando’s voice was demanding and rough, if he needed to push Oscar down to get to you he’d do it, no matter how much the thought of hurting his friend displeased him.
Oscar registered the fiery gaze that made home in Lando’s eyes and he did not want to see what followed but he had no thought of letting him go.
“You have to make a choice Lando. It was never going to be easy.”
As much as it hurt Oscar to say those words to his friend, all he wanted was for you and Lando to be together again.
But Oscar saw you this week. And he saw Lando this week. And neither were sights to marvel at.
You were always an extension of Lando and he poured all he had into the girl he loved. But you were different now, and that was changing Lando, although not always in a right way.
By the end of the day if you did not remember loving him and if their labour proved fruitless Lando would have nothing left. No you, no him. For now Lando at least had F1 and Oscar knew that the only thing he could do is help his friend protect his precious job because he had no call in your mind or feelings.
Only a month ago Oscar felt how everything would work out, but maybe working out meant you two finding your happiness apart and not together. Healing separately and moving on from what had passed. As disturbing as that sounded, it looked like the only solution for both of your wellness.
“Boys, cars, now!” a voice boomed, directing them to take their positions.
Oscar and Lando shared one last glance before Lando pulled his helmet back on and settled into his seat.
It’s gonna be a tough race. Oscar thought.
As expected the race was unlike no other this year, 3 crashes, 5 DNF’s all while Lando drove with the concentration of an eagle, his eyes on the road, but your eyes in his mind.
Lando was rethinking everything, he quite literally had the time, almost two hours before he’s allowed out of this car and can finally see you, he needed to be ready for what was to come in the future… or if there was any future for the two of you left.
What if it is the end?
What if you don’t want him anymore?
A couple of tears travelled down his hot cheek and mixed with his sweat. His eyes were burning, his chest was burning but he pushed and pushed himself unafraid to perform a dangerous over-take with the car in front of him. Mere seconds later a loud cheer echoed through his ear.
“P1 LANDO! YOU ARE THE WINNER LANDO!”
“I won?” He repeated while finishing the cool-down lap, complete disbelief soaking his words.
As soon as he stepped out of the car it was all cheering and flashing lights.
I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me? His own voice resonated through his ears, the memory of your eyes before him.
That was the last thread before he broke down crying next to his car.
Everyone cheered even louder. They thought he was facing the high of his life while he felt like rotting in hell.
He needed you to see him when he won. Now he did win, but you were not watching…
He knew you. He knew you so well. When you told him you’d be there, when you kissed his cheek, when you watched the night sky with him, when you held his hand. He knew you’d come back to him. He knew he’d get to hold your hand again and watch you smile all thanks to his wit.
Only he did not know it would be temporary…
Air got caught in Lando’s throat, it was suffocating being encaged within the helmet.
While Lando stood on the podium accepting his award not once did he look down at the crowd before him. Keeping his eyes on the trophy or the other men sharing the podium with him.
But never down, never to the left corner where from the side of his eye he could see that cluster of bright papaya, never to the very front of that gate, never to where you were supposed to be standing.
Because inside he knew that you were not there, but if he never looked back there then there will be no confirmation, so the theoretical possibility that you might just be there was all he could get and he would hold on to it for dear life.
If he never looked down, he could just let himself imagine that you were there, watching him win…
“See boy, you can’t win everything, but when your time comes, you get all that you want. And Lando, you very well deserve this,” it was Fernando tapping the younger boy on the shoulder, expressing his congratulations.
yeah… I won a race but I lost my love.
Sadness encapsulated his heart and the last thing he wanted now was to pretend to celebrate a long awaited win. Before anyone could get their hands on him he disappeared to his driver’s room.
He opened the door and locked it behind himself. He needed to be alone now.
“Lando,” your soft voice greeted him.
“I knew you,” your eyes were ablaze, “I don’t know how or where it came from, but I knew you and I loved you.” You tried your best to calmly express all feelings that came crashing down on you mere hours ago.
“Loved?” Lando breathed under his nose, he was shattered beyond repair as your declaration made him take in a large gulp of air. Lando could feel himself getting mad. This is so fucking unfair.
“You’re so mean.” He slumped down on the couch, his eyes directed away from you.
“What? Lando I’m trying to-“, you stepped closer to him, instantly regretting that decision.
“AND YOU DON‘T THINK I AM?! I’ve been trying for months now, all alone, while you wanted nothing to do with me. You didn’t even know me, while I had to live around you, still in love with you. It’s so unfair, SO FUCKING UNFAIR ALL OF THIS!”, his hands waved with inner rage. He knew he wasn’t mad at you, it was not your fault, but he was mad at something and he needed to let that out. He needed you to finally know how he felt.
“Lando I am sorry, I-“, you tried to interrupt before Lando completely broke.
“IT’S SO UNFAIR THAT YOU WEREN’T THERE, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH ME. SURE YOU DON’T REMEMBER, BUT I DO, I REMEMBER, YOU PROMISED ME YOU’D WATCH ME WIN! AND YOU DIDN’T! YOU LIED!” With each word his voice became louder and louder, he was letting his emotions out for once, tired of holding them in for the sake of everyone else but himself.
“I know Lando! And I did watch you,” you tried to keep your mind levelled and let him let his frustrations out.
“NO, NO YOU DIDN’T, YOU RAN OUT BEFORE THE RACE COULD EVEN START, Y/N I SAW YOU!”
“I. WATCHED. YOU.” You’re the one to raise your voice now, getting close to his face. You needed to show him that you could hear him.
“We were here in Spain a year ago and you were sim racing before the race, you told me to watch you race, because you wanted me to see you win and you did win. But when we woke up the next day I had caught a cold and could not watch you race out on the circuit. You lost and you were crushed. I know Lando. I was there. And I am here now, only this time I was here too, I watched you race and I watched you win.” Your own voice glazed in assertiveness just to make him listen.
Lando’s eyes were in tears, his hands in tight fists unable to understand how something like this could have happened. All of these emotions crashing down on him, he didn’t know what to do, he did not know how to react, he was lost.
Your gentle touch worked to unwrap his tight grip and relax him before placing his palms on your tear stained cheeks.
You’d show him a way, the way you always had.
“I remember Lando. I remember everything. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone for so long. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to you. But we can fix this we can work on this together right?” you pleaded with your eyes, attentively searching his own for an answer.
Lando’s first instinct was to pull you into a crushing hug, breathing you in like you were his oxygen.
Lando finally felt at home. It was and always would be your touch, your presence that could ground him.
“You came back to me. I will do everything to keep you close, Y/n,” He whispered into your neck, the hot air tickling your skin making you giggle.
“You came back,” he held you even tighter and your hands were just as firm grasping him.
“I‘ll never leave you again,” you ran your hands through his soaked curls, letting the memories of your life before take over each one of your cells and fill you, “I’m sorry for taking so long my love,”
“Don’t be.” Lando broke the hug so he could look into your eyes again.
Now he saw his true prize. It was your eyes, your rosy cheeks, your glistening lips. You were back and you still loved him,“ I’d always wait for you.”
^^
Tags: @goldsbitch @cmleitora @mickslover @darleneslane @queenofmanydreams @ujws5
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miserycanary · 2 days
Text
PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader 
synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost (pt.2)
tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst 
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The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you. 
With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul. 
Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.
Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.
Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten. 
As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. “That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue. 
“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you. 
Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you. 
Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way). 
But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring. 
Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine. 
And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints. 
Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you? 
He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?
You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open! 
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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Winter's King 12
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: have a good weekend.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.  
“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt. 
“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine. 
“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.  
He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway. 
“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...” 
You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him. 
You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs. 
You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.  
You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game? 
You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you. 
You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude. 
You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands. 
You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges. 
Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle. 
“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray. 
You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame. 
“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.” 
“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?” 
You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.” 
“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?” 
“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.” 
“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--” 
“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.” 
Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? 
“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--” 
“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.” 
The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are. 
You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on. 
“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?” 
“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...” 
“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again. 
You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--” 
“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.” 
“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.” 
You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor. 
As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down. 
“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.” 
“Thank you, sir, I am fine.” 
“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.” 
You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?” 
“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.” 
Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something? 
“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--” 
“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.” 
“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--” 
“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.” 
Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master. 
“I would not,” you repeat. 
He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.” 
“Sir Bryce--” 
“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.” 
You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.” 
He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it! 
And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid. 
⚔️
You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure. 
“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.” 
You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north. 
“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.” 
You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly. 
“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?” 
She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.” 
You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest. 
“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.” 
She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.” 
You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant. 
“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.” 
You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls. 
“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.” 
You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away. 
“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.” 
She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid. 
“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.” 
You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands. 
“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.” 
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schwarzkatje · 2 days
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dark!orphan!ellie x nun!reader || part 3
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disclaimer: alright, i'm just gonna say that this is filth in its original form aka contains SMUT that is immoral; offensive to religion if you believe and/or practice the religion implied here; it deals with power dynamics between an educational figure and a supposed pupil even though it has no age gap warning since they are basically the same age; it has violence in the form of slapping; it shows both ellie AND reader being dark characters with questionable morals. so if ANY of this triggers you, i prefer you skip for my but mostly your sake. also, not proofread srry
> for part 1 click here || for part 2 click here
"admit it, you act like a brat all the fucking time because you love it when you get punished," never in a million years would you have thought these words would have exited your mouth. nor would you have entertained the idea of breaking your vows because of something so futile like losing your temper.
except what was happening was proof of how delusional your beliefs and how fragile the rope you were walking on had both been. more specifically what was happening underneath you.
you were straddling ellie, the heels of her feet planted on the mattress and her thighs spread to accommodate your hand as it furiously flicked her pulsating clit and the outer zones of her pussy, drenched in white slick.
the other hand was feigning in her task to handcuff ellie's wrists, as it bore no real force nor did it occur to you that she could break free whenever she decided. you simply ignored it, too drunk off of nothing but a ravaging and ravenous hallucination of retribution. ellie had brought an earthquake inside you, causing casualties in the process, namely what you stood for, the light in your eyes and the faith towards god. in a regained moment of lucidity you could have recognised you were turning into the reflection of ellie's sufferings.
and god, wasn't she willing to dance this macabre tango with you and accept the pleasure that was making her delirious. her hips thrusted up, closer to your fingers, imagining they were your pussy humping her own, riding her in this exact same position that naive you had thought to be a cage for ellie.
"don't lie, you're too – fuck yeah – you're way too good at this. do you fuck the other sisters, when you are done tormenting me, mh?" the contorted expression was the perfect mask to hide the trail of jealousy implied in such an insisting enquiry and to distract from the fact that her eyes would have rolled back to her skull hadn't she been more lucid. "do you suck the pastor's cock when he comes to visit, too?"
"you wish. you wish i had so your fantasies about me get more realistic, don't you?" both your middle and ring finger were exploring the outer region of ellie's intoxicatingly warm hole, with such a slow pace that ellie feared you would stop at any time.
only one hour prior to this enactment of pure debauchery you were busing your mind with paperwork, locked in your room, locked away from ellie. you hadn't planned this.
the exact way you hadn't planned to abandon your dummy remnants of resolution as you let ellie enter your quarters. the exact way you hadn't planned to fight for the umpteenth time knowing it would have resulted in ulterior mortification for you. the exact way you hadn't planned to slap her. for the second time. completely throwing away the memory of ellie promising to make you pay for this the first time you had done it. except, ellie too had seemed to have forgotten all about this threat.
"do it again," ellie had been prompting you, daring you to do it, if not for the fact that she had trapped your wrist, actually impeding the fulfilment of what was acquiring the shape of a wish trough and through. her superior strength had proven a perfect feature to yank your entire body closer to her.
your other hand was holding the bible and you reckoned that once you had dropped it, it would have meant bending irremediably, to the point of breaking, in favour of the evil pulling that had been dancing around you throughout your entire life.
the deaf thud of the sacred text hitting the floor had rivalled with the same echoed sound of ellie's cheek getting slapped once again. the capillaries were fast breaking and the warm sensation over the beaten skin sat rather uncomfortable. not so much so as to hinder the devilish grin that ellie had no shame in sporting.
"at least now you're dropping the act of the prissy nun thinking she's better than everyone," her raspy voice had become lower, almost inaudible. but as subtle – and therefore armless – as it may have seemed, its ability to insinuate just as venom does, with blind cruelty, hadn't left space for mercy. "beating me like the other sisters when you faked compassion the moment they did it to me."
the whole context hadn't given you the chance to develop not even a semblance of pity towards ellie. no, it couldn't have found it in the midst of the scorching flames hell that was engulfing your guts. "you deserve every punishment they gave you. my only mistake was thinking you could gain god's forgiveness," you had inched closer to ellie, mimicking, without having full control over it, her tone and setting a twisted game with the loser's destruction as the prize.
"i'm yet to see how you discipline your bad kids," ellie had taken your free hand, the one responsible for the red heat spreading on half of her face, had brought it closer to her chipped lips, "since you're a sick pervert, i imagine you make them do sick shit as well. what is it? spanking? making them kneel down to eat your pussy?" the last bit of her degrading speech had been accompanied by the wet noise of her saliva coating your thumb and your thumb pressing as though it had had life of its own down ellie's tongue.
"want me to show it to you?" it must have been the devil himself that had smelt how deliciously sinfully your soul was accepting to delve into a grave without possibility to repent. everything had been lost.
"fuck– fucking slut knows hot to– oh man—," that was the agonised prize that your fingers entering ellie and pumping with no care in the world inside her pussy had won for you. there was a spot under ellie, a combination of her own cum and the saliva you had spat on your hand because depravity was the puppeteer moving and angling your strings, and you, brainless and unable to feel shame, followed along, being the only purpose of your tainted existence.
you were becoming obsessed with that sight, your pussy had long started to grind on ellie's stomach, lifting more and more of her black shirt, revealing the toned muscles that helped the friction you were ready to sell your soul to encounter.
fitting a third finger inside ellie, you moaned as though you were the one being penetrated. your teeth were munching your lower lip as a manner to deal with the inexplicable pleasure you were both giving and experiencing. like the previous things, you definitely hadn't planned not only to do this, but to enjoy it as much as an animal in heat would have.
ellie decided she had had enough and pulled her hands out of the pathetic cage that was your numb digits, reckoning they would be of more use gripping the soft flesh of your hips and helping you cover her navel with more your intoxicating precum.
"why can't you always be this obedient? why can't you be a good girl?" your now free hand found a new grip in your own hair, all while indulging in ellie's silent desire to hump harder above her. which meant automatically increasing the speed with which your fingers were claiming her fucked out hole.
ellie sobbed at your words, reading them as indirect praise, the affirmation that like a madwoman she had been searching her all life, the affirmation that frustrated her so much it made her into the shadow of herself.
"oh god please– please, forgive me... oh god, ellie– don't stop..." came out corrupted beyond salvation, tainted by your tears of pleasure and the chocked scream of the most mind numbing orgasm you have ever had, fearing your brain would never recover its sanity.
if you had been captured by the image of ellie, fucked out on the bed where you sleep, ellie too had endured a sight of her own that pushed its limit with you coming on her. it happened during the first second of your high, for this reason you understood that ellie had flipped both of you over, so that now she was between your legs, only when your clothed core met ellie's naked one.
she was humping you like you had been humping her, only with more domineering force due to the position you were in. ellie had her own release in mind and nothing else. there was only the heat stuck in her belly finally exploding with spikes making different parts of her body convulse in quick succession.
the ache of your pussy was no match to the fuelling sensation of having ellie take you like this, using you for her own pleasure after you doing the same to her, putting you in a subordinate position to have full control of what to do to you. "e-ellie come, please come," you begged and pathetically tried to confirm what you wanted by holding ellie's ass to deepen her movements.
she, on the other hand, couldn't resist any longer and with a last thrust she halted flush against you, mere centimetres away from your lips, your legs spread impossibly wide with the only intention of providing ellie with the best position to let go of her built up arousal.
her face had somewhat softened, not taking into account the frown on her forehead, her eyebrows knitted in a desperate expression, almost confused by the force with which her orgasm had deprived her of the characteristic vulgarity and witty behaviour.
she looked... vulnerable. and her lips looked so ready to be kissed and maybe even bitten or sucked. but the delirious feeling of the orgasm had wore off completely by then and anger for a further loss in dignity was covering the entirety of your thoughts. you weren't going to show any more of what you had already done.
you pushed her away, shivering in cold once her body left yours and as quickly as your trembling legs permitted you, you sat on the edge of your bed. facing away from ellie who was waiting for your next move.
"get the fuck out of my room," and with that, a deafening noise produced by the slamming of your wooden door was all was left for you to hear.
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hollytoshaw · 1 day
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noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis
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summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour
word count : 5.7k
part one here
a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx
masterlist <3333
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Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better. 
After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to. 
Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.
She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London. 
It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while. 
While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off. 
So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. 
But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist. 
It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat. 
She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time. 
As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.  
Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather. 
''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’
‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’
Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’
She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’
‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.
‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.
‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’
''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’
‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’
‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’
Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought. 
‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’
Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’
The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory. 
‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’
They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers. 
''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’
Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days. 
‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’
✩ ✩ ✩
A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.
After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots. 
Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer. 
It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them. 
Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.
Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work. 
As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.
The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.
Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space. 
Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven. 
It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did. 
Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain. 
She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.
She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect. 
Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.
As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.
With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind. 
Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot. 
She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.
✩ ✩ ✩
Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.
She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up. 
With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.
/
The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout. 
The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back. 
The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.
His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face. 
‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’
Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’
She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’
‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed. 
‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.
‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’
‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours. 
‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’
‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her. 
‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back. 
A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact. 
‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.
Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go. 
‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’
‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’
Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’
‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’
‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’
And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous. 
‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night. 
Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person. 
‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor. 
‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’
‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’
‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest. 
‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was. 
"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’
‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’
Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’
‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’
‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.
‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.
‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’
‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words. 
‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’ 
‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’ 
‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’
‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’
‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’
So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly. 
‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.
‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.
‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked. 
What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident. 
‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’
‘’Hmm maybe.’’ 
‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’
‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement. 
‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.
‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’
‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’
‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’
‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned. 
‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.
The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in  the morning to sort out admin for the cafe. 
‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.
‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.
‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’
‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless. 
‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’
‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed. 
/
Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa. 
Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night. 
She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.  
She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry. 
Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it. 
On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’ 
With a little smile on her lips as he fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.
-
a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333
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xrenjunniesx · 23 hours
Text
May we continue to love forever
bf!haechan
fluff, mentions of murder jokes
word count : 1,341
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In moments like these where you let yourself delve into your thoughts. Staring out the window as the train began to start up again, slowly chugging down the rail road, you found yourself thinking of how you became so lucky to meet the guy that sat right next to you.
It was cliche, really. He ran into you when talking to his friends and proceeded to get lost in your eyes as he apologised. You two talked for hours after that first meeting, he left his friends just so he could go and get to know the girl he fell for.
His soft brown hair soon was dyed black and you fell for him all over again - even when you two had been dating for months at this point.
It was times when you least expected it, that you would fall in love with him all over again.
When the wind would be blowing your hair back, messing it up in the process but he would just stare loving at you and brush the hair behind your hair so it didn’t bother you so much.
You always thought about that moment. The way your heart fluttered and you felt your face heat up, it always brought a small smile to your face.
You felt a tap on your thigh, “Babe, this is our stop.” You looked towards Haechan and quickly stood up, following after him as he walks off the train.
“What would you do without me.” He spoke in a teasing manner, passing you your bag - which you had forgotten about completely.
“I would be perfectly fine without you.” It wasn’t a lie. It just so happened that whenever you were with him, you became so relaxed that you forgot things that you wouldn’t normally forget. You knew he would be there for you to pick up on the things you forgot.
“So why did you want to come here?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his puffer jackets pockets.
“It’s a surprise.” You smile at the boy and begin to walk in front of him to lead the way. He followed behind you, a love struck smile plastered onto his face despite the icy winds that had the both of you shivering even in the warmest jackets you had.
“Did we have to come down near the ocean on a day like this? I’m going to freeze to death.” He complains after a few minutes of walking in peacefully silence. It was a quiet area, but with the weather it was even more quiet. People chose to stay inside the warmth on days like this. Not the two of you though.
You were sure that Haechan would love to go back home now, but you were determined to show him the surprise. It would be worth it once you get there
“Don’t start complaining now, Hyuck, we will get there soon.”
“Gosh, why is there no people around-“ he paused and you heard his teeth chattering for a moment before he continued. “You’re taking me to a murder spot aren’t you? Is this why you were so eager? Is my death the surprise.”
You stopped walking and began to laugh at the boy. He stopped next to you, a lazy grin across his face.
“No Haechan, I don’t want to murder you, at least not here.”
“Why? I think this would be a lovely place to die.” You sigh at his words, beginning to walk again.
“Let’s not talk about such matters when I’m quite literally taking you to a place of pure happiness.”
“is it my grave-“
“Haechan!” You shouted, looking at him only to see him avoiding your gaze and laughing to himself.
The two of you arrive at a local restaurant. As you stepped inside, memories seemed to come back to Haechan. His eyes widened and he grabbed ahold of your jacket.
“No way… you found this place.”
“I didn’t. Mark said he had been here and I wanted to surprise you.”
Haechan stared in awe as he looked around the same restaurant that he had only seen in movies and dramas. The same restaurant that he for some reason was never able to find the address off.
As the two of you followed a waiter to a table, you felt Haechan grabbing ahold of your hand. He interlocked your fingers for a brief second, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go when the waiter looked back to speak to you.
The both of you sat down and looked at the menu. it was a quiet family owned restaurant that left Haechan in awe. He took in the beautiful layout and the romantic lighting the place had. Plus the heating in here made it a perfect moment for him.
He took off his jacket and looked towards you while you read the names of the dishes that you were interested in getting. You weren’t doing anything special in that moment, simply sitting there and reading a menu, and yet Haechan fell in love with you all over again.
He lifted his phone up, aiming the camera at you and quickly snapping a picture. The clicking sound caught your attention and you look up from the menu to see the boy giggling to himself as he looked at his phone.
“Did you really take a picture of me?” You say, placing the menu down on the table, unable to hide the smile slowly growing on your face.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He says, putting his hands up. “I just think you look very pretty right now.”
You blushed and quickly looked away from his eyes, picking the menu back up and telling him to pick a dish. He chuckles at you but never the less listens to what you said.
The both of you eat your meals rather quietly, simply enjoying the atmosphere and the gentle music that played in the background. The cloudy blue sky became darker as the night rolled in and the sun set.
“I want to stay here tonight.” Haechan says, sinking back into his chair. He looks over at you, staring into your eyes that were growing tired.
“I should book us a hotel room.” He says, picking up his phone.
You reach over the table and push his phone down a bit. “We don’t have any extra clothes on us.”
Haechan shrugs his shoulders. “We can always buy some tomorrow, or tonight quickly before stores start to close.”
You sigh and say, “You really don’t want to go back home?”
He shakes his head, reaching across the table to grab a hold of your hands. “I want to stay with you all night in a place as beautiful as this town.”
You chuckle at his words, “You’ve only really seen this store, what do you mean this town.”
“I’m sure the town is as beautiful as you are.” You want to laugh at his over the top flirting but you decide to delve into it. He loved complimenting you, even if it was in the more embarrassing way possible.
“and if it’s ugly?” You say, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him.
“then it’s because you’re too beautiful that everything else becomes ugly.”
You roll your eyes and stand up, ready to go pay for the meal. He leaps from the chair and almost trips you as he rushes past you to pay for it.
“You paid for the train tickets, I’ll pay for the meal and the hotel room.”
you couldn’t deny the offer and decided to let him pay for the meal.
As the two of you put your jackets on and stepped outside into the freezing cold air, you hear Haechan say in a light manner,
“You know, you should’ve lied when you said Mark found this place. It’s less romantic knowing he found it.”
You scoff out a laugh and shove the boy. “Shut up and get a hotel room, it’s too cold out here.”
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lvndrdaaze · 2 days
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Description: Diluc was sure he was a sinner. A protector, yes, and a man desperately trying to be good, but a sinner nonetheless. Yet, you worshipped at his feet as though it were an honour to do so.
Warnings: gn!reader, oral (m!receiving), religious imagery, shame, praise, deepthroating, swallowing
Wc: 1.2k
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"I assure you, this isn't necessary, love…"
The scene had become rapidly and wonderfully sinful, and Diluc wasn't certain as to how it had happened. His chest felt hollow but for the rapidly beating heart that seemed to echo through his entire body.
"I want to, 'Luc…" Your voice came low and earnest, enticing him like nothing he had ever known.
Even through his pressed trousers, your fingertips tracing up his tense thighs sent a dull throb through every muscle in his body. Diluc could hardly look at you, kneeling in front of his desk chair so faithfully, so his eyes wandered restlessly from your face to your hand to the floor to the desk where his work laid abandoned.
Your hand climbed higher, squeezing with careful pressure to bring his attention back to you.
"Please, let me make you feel good. You deserve to feel good."
His breaths came and went raggedly, tearing through him like he had forgotten the skill completely. And he almost believed he had. How could he remember something as asinine as breathing when you were staring up at him from between his parted legs with pleading eyes?
A short nod from him was all it took, and your hands were climbing again, grazing over muscles that burned with want and tracing the shape of him pressed against his pants. Diluc shuddered at the press of your palm against his swollen tip, the sensation feeling blissful even through layers of clothing. How he was going to last when it was his skin you were touching, he wasn't sure, but he was rapidly growing desperate to find out.
You made quick work of his belt, as though you had been preparing for this moment, perfecting the action until it happened so flawlessly he hardly noticed it. You popped open the button of his pants, and he swallowed thickly. With your fingers in his belt loops, you tugged, and he felt himself raising his hips to help you unconsciously.
When your fingers met his hardening shaft, Diluc had to bite back a moan. It was too immodest, he was sure, too obscene to spill such noises freely. But you seemed to believe otherwise.
"Please don't hold yourself back, darling. I want to hear you." You murmured so softly, and it was all he could do not to cum from that alone.
Then, you were stroking him, your digits wrapped around his cock as you pumped sensually. Each movement was slow and attentive as you watched all of his reactions reverently. Every twitch of his brow, every tremble of his fingers, every muffled noise were observed and catalogued in your mind.
You tightened your grip, and Diluc let out a strangled groan, the sound breaking free too quickly for him to mask it. Heat grew in his cheeks while you stoked the fire in his loins, and he wondered absentmindedly if lust and shame would always be connected by that fiery thread that ran through him. Then, you parted your lips and drooled warm saliva onto his throbbing tip, and he couldn't think any longer.
His soft groans felt impossibly loud to his own ears, but your hand on his cock only increased in speed every time he let one slip, as though rewarding his impropriety.
Diluc was sure he was a sinner. A protector, yes, and a man desperately trying to be good, but a sinner nonetheless. Yet, you worshipped at his feet as though it were an honour to do so. Your benevolent eyes were fixed on him, and he had never felt so exposed yet powerful in his entire life. How could something that left him feeling so vulnerable also make him feel like a godly being? How did your sinful strokes on his wet shaft feel like a form of piety?
He was spiralling into madness, he was sure. Desire clouded his mind worse than any alcohol he served to his customers, and his fingers clamped down on the chair arm like they were the bars to a cell, just barely holding him back.
Blazing red eyes stared down as you leaned forward, the tip of your hot tongue tracing obscene circles around his tip, and his fire grew hotter. He squeezed the chair arms so tightly the wood groaned in his grasp, just as the loudest moan yet broke free from his throat. Your responding smirk was infuriatingly enticing.
"That's it, love." You purred encouragingly, wrapping your lips around the very tip to lap at the essence pooling from his slit.
Electricity crackled in his spine as you suckled on his tip, your hands still pumping him wantonly, and Diluc felt his hips twitching, the need to bury himself deeper in these feelings growing within him.
Thankfully, you noticed the movement and took action.
Diluc's jaw clenched as you engulfed him further in the wet heat of your mouth. With your hands and mouth working in harmony, he felt his self-control waning. Spit-slick lips massaged his thick shaft in shallow stroked that somehow managed to be sloppy and carefully calculated at the same time, whilst your fingers slipped down to tighten around the base, holding him steady.
He watched with rapt attention as you worked, the sharp pants pouring from his lips being the only form of approval he could muster with his mind so intoxicated by you.
Swollen pink lips pulled back to wrap around his velvety head once again. Your soft moan vibrated all the way through his body as you flicked your tongue over the tip, tasting his salty ambrosia with eyes closed in blissful contentment.
Out of pure instinct, one of his hands reached for your jaw, sliding tenderly from there to your cheek to cup the flushed skin and draw your gaze up to him again. Through your teary lashes he recognised the heat there, burning just like his. With a long, rumbling groan, his hips jerked upwards at the realisation, eliciting a choking sound from you as his cock slipped deep into your mouth.
Immediately, he moved to apologise, to withdraw from your mouth shamefully, but your hand was on his in an instant, pressing his calloused palm against your cheek. His hands were red, but your skin seemed to clean them of their stains with just one touch.
His gaze burned into yours as you lapped at the vein running up his length, working more and more of him into your mouth until he was met with the tightness of your throat as you swallowed around him.
The sounds that had once been restrained grew in volume and frequency with every bob of your head, until the office was filled with the uninhibited groans and hoarse moans of the dishevelled master of the winery.
Tension bubbled in every inch of his body, blooming outwards in deep tremors, winding through his muscles like vines. His thighs shook and his grip on your cheek grew tighter, before finally falling from grace.
Hot spurts of his desire coated your throat as he convulsed underneath you with a sinner's cry, calling out your name to the ceiling as though the Archons themselves were listening. As his chest heaved, you hollowed your cheeks around him, swallowing his offering diligently.
Diluc was sure he was a sinner, but your graciousness was the secret to his absolution.
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Header from @/srDante_ on Pinterest
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sadesluvr · 2 days
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The Hills (Part Two)
JJ hates his menial job, but there’s a certain customer he lusts and loathes in particular.
(JJ Maybank x Reader)
Part One
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You didn’t know what had come over you.
One minute you’d been poolside; pissed over something so fickle you couldn’t remember, and the next you were pressed against the cold walls of the storage room whilst JJ Maybank - known Pogue and borderline vagrant - had fucked you from behind.
He was all over you now; his love bites still etched on your body whilst his ocean and marijuana dripped scent was embedded into the material of your swimsuit. None of it compared to the fact that he’d made his mark directly inside you - his cum still seeping out of you when you’d showered before dinner that day. Your dear father had been concerned, so worried that his princess was walking with a slight limp whilst she kept her thighs pressed together…and all you could say was that you needed to pee.
What had happened was a one time thing, a lapse of judgement in the spur of the moment. He could run off and tell all his friends, but who was truly going to believe him? You had everyone wrapped around your finger, so as far as it went, your word was sacred.
Would you really be that embarrassed if word got out? It wasn’t as if JJ was a complete social pariah. Still, you knew enough about him (and his felonious father) to know that some things were best kept a secret.
And you vowed to keep it that way.
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“I’m bored,” Bree said, dragging her vowels as she ran a hand through her hair. “Let’s get drunk. Or high. Better yet, both,”
You and Halle scoffed as you turned around, balancing an ungodly amount of clothes on your arms. They were over at your house, going through your closet as you sifted for something fresh - or forgotten - to wear. Midsummers was around the corner, and nothing but perfection was expected from you. Not that you were ever worried about that, of course.
“Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” you said, rolling your eyes.
“We can just go to the store and get a new one,” Bree huffed before perking up again. “Come on, let’s go to Rafe’s! They’ve always got something going on,”
Halle snickered. “Please, anywhere but his!”
“Agreed,” you nodded. “Rafe does the hard stuff. I am not a crack whore,”
“Speaking of, what’s going on with you and him, huh?” Bree pressed. “You know he’s into you…I bet he’s going to ask you to Midsummers,”
You smirked. The fact was rather amusing - Rafe could, and has, hooked up with many girls on the island, and yet you were the one he chased the most. It was the classic Madonna/Whore complex, and if you were to say yes - even once - you knew you were in for a life of nothing but rigid conformity, from the rich white of your wedding dress to the grand names of your babies once you carried the Cameron lineage. To some, that life was appealing, but you already had it all. 
You just wanted a bit of fun. Perhaps in the form of another blonde.
“I’ll hook up with him but that’s it,” you shrugged, holding a dress to your body as you stared in the mirror. “It all depends on how drunk I can get…”
“Are you serious? How could you not like Rafe Cameron? Every girl on this island would kill to be you!” Bree exclaimed with a distant, yet covetous look in her eye. 
“Tell me something I don’t know,”
Bree huffed again before pursing her lips. 
“…If you don’t want him, can I have him?”
You cocked a brow.
“Does he want you?”
Halle bit her lip, holding back a laugh as she flopped onto your bed and grinned.
“I’m all for you getting laid anyway,” she said, breaking the somewhat obvious tension. “Whoever you got it from last time gave it to you good… I haven’t seen you glow like that since our twelfth grade spring break!”
You paused, suddenly being hit with the faint smell of chlorine and weed. JJ was behind you again, stamping impassioned kisses and bites onto your skin as he tutted into you, skilfully working his big cock into you as he sought his release. It was all too warm, too fast.
“Oooh, who’s the guy?” Bree perked up, with Halle nodding eagerly in agreement.
“It’s nothing serious…” you shrugged, turning your back to the both of them as you tried to hide your smirk. You and JJ weren’t dating - and you certainly weren’t close to being friends - and yet you couldn’t deny the feeling in your stomach. Whether it was nerves, lust, or somewhere in between, you couldn’t wait to run into the Pogue boy again. 
“…You know what?” you said, clearing your throat as you stared off into the distance. “Maybe I can get us that weed for next time…”
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That Saturday, you wore your prettiest (and tightest) sundress. 
It seemed your covered body made you borderline invisible (it was either that or JJ was deliberately ignoring you) as you watched him stroll around the pool, smiling in people’s faces and flipping them off behind their backs. Knowing that he hated his job - where he served to service people like you - was rather amusing. You couldn’t wait to make his day worse.
You stood up as he came your way, grabbing him by the shoulder as if you were scolding him.
The boy turned to you and gave you a once over.
“Whaddup princess, back for round two?”
“Shut up,” you hissed. “Listen, I need a favour —“
JJ grinned.
“I’m all ears but I’m charging this time, alright? I’ve seen what kind of car your dad drives,” he finished with a knowing smirk, and you rolled your eyes at the implication.
“Ugh,” you huffed. “Anyway. You have something I want —“
“—Oh, really? ‘Cus it just so happens you’ve got something I want too…” he mused, staring down at your glossy lips before checking you out. “Three things, in fact. Four if you’re a freak —“
You cut him off, aware of the way your cunt throbbed at the mention of letting any man - let alone someone like JJ - take your anal virginity.
“I need weed, and I know you Pogues have got good stuff,” you said, voice shaking. “I want a bag… or something —“
JJ scoffed and rolled his eyes, running his fingers over his lips as he looked you up and down. There was something alluring about the fact that you, in all your bitchiness, were rather innocent under it all. Someone like you, coming to him for a favour? How could he possibly turn the opportunity down?
“You don’t know how this works, huh?” he laughed, staring at your wide eyes.
“Tip me and I’ll have it hand delivered on Sunday. You won’t even have to go to The Cut.”
Raising a brow, you rummaged in your tiny purse before handing him some cash.
“Here’s a dollar. Fix yourself up.” you instructed, nodding to his messy hair and the small scars on his lip and hands.
“Don’t let me down.” You said sternly, holding your hands on top of his own momentarily as you stared into his blue eyes. He was clearly distracted; fixating more on your lush lips and the sheer material of your sundress stretching over your breasts.
At least the two of you were on the same page. 
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The sun had set on Figure Eight, and, of course, JJ hadn’t shown up. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was bringing weed (you could’ve at least smoked your problems away), you would’ve felt like a girl stood up on her first date. Instead, you’d flung on your nighties and turned up the volume in your AirPods, staring out of the window and glancing at the moon.
As much as your mind wanted to focus on Midsummers, you could only think about JJ, and what it would feel like to have him fuck you again, this time in your pink satin sheets from the crack of dawn until the sunset. Sliding your hands into your silk shorts, you pushed past the wet lips of your pussy with your fingers and delved them into your core, imagining they were JJ’s and not yours. 
“That’s it, Mama, get those fingers nice and wet for Daddy…”
You longed to feel his cool rings press against your hot cunt as he fingerfucked you; his trademark smug smile painted across his face as he soothed you, relishing in your desperation.
“Fuck, if you can’t take my fingers, you’re gonna fall apart on my cock, huh?”
You delved your fingers deeper into your pussy as you worked your way into the crux of your fantasy; only to be rudely awakened by the sound of tapping on a window.
“What the fuck —-“
Blinking, you struggled to get your eyes to adjust to the sudden light, your vision blurry as they locked onto a certain blonde figure. Huffing, you wiped your hands on your thigh before striding over and siding it open.
“You asshole, are you dumb?” 
“Well, it would’ve been easier if you had left the gate open,” JJ said casually, climbing through your window. He was dressed in a ripped vest, and was carrying a small ziplock in one hand, with a gun in the other. “This shits like a fucking maze…Were those lasers…?”
Hurriedly, you closed the window, making sure that no one had seen before ushering him away from the view.
“The gate was open…five hours ago!” you exclaimed, careful to keep your voice to a hush. “Where the fuck were you?”
“I got caught up, okay?” he shrugged, unable to keep his eyes off of your body, fixated on the way your breasts jiggled with every animated reaction. “I’m here now, do you want the stuff or not?”
Frowning, you stuck your hand out for JJ to hand you the goods, inspecting the contents as he looked around your room. It was unbearably girly, yet JJ couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of pride to it all. He was the messy Pogue boy, slutting out a Kook princess - Rafe’s most wanted property - and it felt fucking good.
He glanced over at you, taking in the way your vest hung dangerously low on your chest, exposing the tops of your boobs and the outline of your nipples, hardened in the cool summer air. Your shorts weren’t any less tempting; the fabric riding so high up your legs that he could swear he could see a bit of your pussy through the opening.
If he was correct, you weren’t even wearing panties.
“Nice clothes by the way,” he grinned. “Is that lace? You goin’ somewhere?”
“To bed, yeah.” you scoffed, hiding the weed in your top drawer before lying on your bed. The hem of your vest rode up so that you gave JJ an eyeful of your stomach, teasing him with the rounded mounds of your breasts.
“Mind if I join you?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, instead flopping next to you and propping himself up on his elbow, trapping you between the wall and his body. 
“I'm not in the mood, JJ.” You huffed, staring up at his damned smile as you tried to ignore the burning in your core. Just five minutes ago you were dreaming of this, and if it weren’t for your pride you would’ve been begging him to fuck you like a bitch in heat.
The blonde clicked his tongue, his lustful eyes drinking in your body as he began to run his fingers up your thigh, moving skilfully past your core and up onto your hips, daring to cop a feel of your breasts.
“You owe me for that…by the way,” he said knowingly. You raised your brows in shock, and he laughed.
“What, you thought it was free? That I’d give it to you out of ‘the goodness of my heart’? Nah, princess, this is good shit right here, and I’m not letting my journey go to waste —“ 
His hands stalked up your chest, causing you to let out a soft moan as he brushed your sensitive nipples before they decided to rest on your neck, gripping it with a considerable force as he held you in place to look at him.
“— You’re not really over our first time, anyway.”
He kissed you, and you instinctively pulled his body on top of you, gasping as he grinded his hard cock against against your thigh, signalling what he wanted. You were all too happy to give it to him, rolling yourself on top of him so that you could rub your cunt against his crotch, desperate for any kind of friction. JJ snickered, pulling up your vest to roughly grope your tits before placing his hand on your neck again, gently choking you.
“As much as I want you to ride me Princess, I didn’t come here for that kind of payment. I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”
His gaze on your was unwavering as he lowered you to the foot of the bed on your knees, hand still firm around your throat. Your core throbbed as you glanced up at him through your lashes, palming his bulge through the fabric before taking it out. This was your first time seeing it up close; a decent six inches with a slight curve and pink fleshy tip that spouted precum.
Instinctively, you placed it to your lips, coating your lips in his seed before you took him in your mouth. JJ let out a loud moan at the contact, gripping the back of your neck as he held your head in place as you bobbed up and down his lengthy cock.
You took a deep breath as you pressed your tongue flat against the underside, angling your neck further as you became determined to deepthroat his cock. Your ego was far too big to let JJ think he was winning; even though you tears were beginning to prick at the corner of your eyes.
“JayJ…” you choked. “I need to — Let me —“
“What?” He teased, cupping your cheeks. “Use your words, Mama…”
“Y-You’re too big…” you whimpered, dribbling bits of saliva down his cock as you gagged around his middle. “I need air —“
The blonde tutted.
“I always knew you were all talk. It’s a shame you can’t handle me, princess… I thought you and I were pretty good together the other day…” he rambled, and for some reason the clear manipulation in his voice made your cunt throb uncontrollably. 
You bobbed your head again, this time managing to bury your nose in his messy pubes, squirming and clawing on his large thighs as he held you in place. 
“That’s it, Mama,” he cooed, throwing his head back in ecstasy. “Be a good girl and choke on this fucking dick. Shit, I always knew that mouth was good for something…”
It wasn’t until you let out a desperate gurgle and that he let go. Though your cheeks were burning and eyes were filled with tears, you couldn’t help but admire your work - JJ’s raw cock was shiny, coated in your spit; twitching as he ached for more. 
Grinning, you wiped the mixture of saliva and cum off of your lips before getting back to work, this time using your hands to massage his base.
“Don’t forget the balls, baby —“ he groaned, and you took his cock out of your mouth with a ‘pop’, taking a long lick down his underside before sucking gently on his balls. He groaned again, this time finishing with an impassioned gasp that threatened to wake your parents down the hall.
You slapped his thigh.
“You’re going to get me busted!”
“Fuck that…” he drawled through breathy chuckles. “…Daddy’s little princess has got a mouth for days — You give these to all the pool boys?”
“Consider yourself lucky,” you hummed, giving him a few languid strokes as you continued to attend to his balls. “Rafe’s been on me like a hawk…”
JJ sneered, wrinkling his nose as he slapped his heavy cock on your face, producing a wet smacking sound.
“I don’t wanna hear about that asshole right now,” was all he said, guiding your head back onto his cock, feeling his thighs tremble as he began to reach his edge. 
He glanced over at your phone, wishing that he could snap a few pics, hell, even a quick video of the dirty deed; and send it off to the Cameron son himself in a quick Snapchat. To some it might’ve been trivial; but to a guy like Rafe having the right girl on his arm meant a lot - and, if JJ was to have even the slightest of leverage over him, how could he not take the opportunity to rub it in his face?
“Fuck…” he puffed, lips parted in ecstasy. “Choke on it one more time, baby…”
“JayJ—“ you begged, and he shook his head, solely focused on his release.
“C’mon princess, I know you can do it…Take a deep breath, ‘atta girl —“
It wasn’t long before he spilled down your throat, making you gag and pull your head back in shock. He hastily grabbed his dick and angled it at your face, painting white rivulets across your cheeks and lips as he writhed in pleasure, spewing words and phrases you weren’t sure if he even meant.
As he rode off his high, he scooped some of his cum up in his finger, and you needed no instruction as to what to do next. You stared into his cloudy blue eyes as you sucked his finger, and for a moment you could’ve sworn that there was something - even a flash - of affection. 
Once he pulled the digit out of your mouth, a moment passed before he kissed you; sloppily yet passionate, so much so that you didn’t notice the screen of your phone light up, even in the dimly lit light of your room.
rafe.cameron liked your story
rafe.cameron: Bree said you’re coming to Midsummers. Meet me at the country club tomorrow we need to talk
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@juniebugg @lunarzuku (ty for reblogging and tagging part one!<3)
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aiura-stan · 3 days
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Onto 0-3!
The first thing I wonder when I start reading this chapter is… why does Saiki repeat himself every chapter? Just to drill it in? I guess this was a serialized manga.
And he includes the same nose joke again… except it isn’t as funny as the original. (“If that applies to you, then please just forget about this conversation” had me in hysterics the first time I read it.)
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Unrelated to anything in particular, I like the large screen tone used on Saiki’s eyes in vol 0. It’s visually interesting. I think Asou sensei could have kept using this to indicate when Saiki was using his powers.
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Here we go! Actually important details to the saikiverse (if you will.) One second of staring at a target is enough to get a glance, but three seconds of staring removes clothing and five seconds removes muscles as well as skin (maybe four seconds removes just skin, revealing muscle.)
No guarantee of how true this is, but I like to think it’s more or less accurate, thinking forward to the Kusuo’s birthday challenge chapter, where he has to spend a lot of time staring at an object so that he can see through it.
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I had forgotten that Chuono makes his first appearance in this chapter. Yay! Chuono san is so cute.
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“At moments like these, what sort of face should I be making?” is another iconic Saiki quote. This gag still manages to be pretty funny in its rough form, imo. *Now* what sort of face does one make?? The kind of face Chuono is making, perhaps. I just love the idea of Saiki meeting an illusionist in the first place. The fake “magician” versus the real psychic who can alter the laws of reality. It’s one of the genius bits in Saiki k.
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I also love the intentional misunderstanding that Saiki is an illusionist. It leads to so many funny situations down the line. Why does this random middle aged man call Saiki “master”? Who knows. In this case, Saiki’s habit of letting people make assumptions really came back to bite him in the ass. (Well, that and trying to out-magic and discourage him.)
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Another detail I like: Saiki missing social cues (in this case, the dip in the conversation where an average stranger would be like, ok, see you, good luck. That’s not very neurotypical of him…
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I really do find this weird stunt hilarious. Saiki’s logic is so off because he inevitably ends up dealing with weirdos expecting normal behavior. C’mon Saiki.
Also, Saiki says here that he can teleport (called apport in the comic proper I believe) not just things, but people into a specific place… crazy
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Saiki doesn’t understand the (reasoning behind the) eyelash/long hair simile? Continuing to build my ND Saiki case material…
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Also enjoying this little panel of Ike-san holding the 500 yen coin, which Saiki definitely gave him.
Well, I think that does it for volume 0 Chapter 3….
see you all soon. 💫
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animeyanderelover · 3 days
Note
Hey! Im glad i managed to wake up early in the end! Here are my two requests and thank you so much for your great writing!
1. Yanderes of your choice (the ones who wear masks/cover their faces or are just insecure about their appearances in general) with a darling who always compliments their face, saying they look amazing and that they love all of them/the first time they see the yans face their reaction is to get all :OOOO and compliment it
2. yanderes of your choice with a minor deity reader, who doesn't have the same perception of boundaries as a normal person does plus is just happy they have a follower at least.....?
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, manipulation
Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz
Minor Deity s/o
Ash Landers
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▫️​You may not be known very well as other deities are but with Ash you pretty much already have the most devoted and loyal follower one could ask for. Yet the fact that you were forgotten seems to affect him much more than it has affected you ever as he is in utter grief and sorrow when he finds out about it. Deities are supposed to be worshipped and treated with reverence yet humans truly seem to have forgotten how to pay respect and he is determined to see it through that your name will be called in prayers once again. After he has purified London, that is. With his darling being a literal deity though, Ash feels immense pressure to see it through that everything will be perfect for you. He lets churches and temples be build in your name and starts searching for humans he thinks would be worthy enough of worshipping you as he is basically planning to collect a cult for you. Your obvious clinginess is constantly overwhelming him though as he doesn't see himself as worthy for being touched by a deity like this, especially since he hasn't done anything to deserve it.
Juvia Lockser
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💧​Juvia is constantly swooning over pretty much everything you do as her obsessive tendencies only increase as she figures out that you are an actual deity. You are literally perfect in her eyes. She spends days and weeks crafting a small shrine for you where she always leaves flowers, pastries or anything else for you as a sign of her adoration and love. She has a rather strange relationship with the idea of collecting other followers for you though. On the one hand she wants people to notice you because you are the most perfect and beautiful being as the mere thought that no one has ever been a follower of yours angers her greatly. On the other hand she also doesn't want to lose all the attention and affection she gets solely because she is the only one who calls herself a follower of yours now. You are very clingy with little to no perception of boundaries but since Juvia is exactly the same, this is just utterly perfect for her. The idea of you giving such attention to other people if they would start believing in you is a big cause of her jealousy as she would like to remain as someone special to you even if you should collect more followers.
Yato
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🪙​Both of you share very similar struggles yet Yato shows much more concern for you as a deity will disappear if no human remembers them so he is very desperate to get you more followers. He starts with Hiyori as he asks her to not forget you for her entire life and to remember you and she really goes all out of her way to build you a small shrine similar to the one she has crafted for Yato. Otherwise Yato literally goes around with Yukine to fulfill his jobs whilst trying to advertise for you. Whilst you don't show any panic or fear due to having so only Hiyori as a human who believes in you as of now, he still feels like he has to do everything he can to cheer you up to keep you happy. He has very good intentions but at times he can go a bit too far by literally wracking some damage to induce humans with the belief that it was the work of you just to get their attention on you. Hiyori and you are ususally quick to scold him for it as you don't want to be remembered as a deity who harms other people. Yato happily indulges in your clinginess though because he can be quite touchy himself but he does get jealous quickly when you show similar amounts of affection to Yukine and Hiyori.
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Oh actually, another cute ratiorine thing while I’m thinking about it: It might have already been said before but we all know how much ratio loves gaining new knowledge. So imagine him coming to Aventurine with questions about the Avgins. And Aventurine still holds his race very dearly in his heart, and doesn’t want their memory to fully die with him as the last surviving member, so he sits down with Ratio and tells him all about his people. Their customs, what they made their clothing out of, how they survived the harsh weather, how they worshiped giathra and the rituals they used for it. And then he loses himself in his memories because he’s never had anyone to share this with, and he tells him about the other Avgins he knew. The other children he grew up with, the old people who would sneak him extra sweets because he was such a well mannered kid. Then in quieter tones he tells Ratio about his parents and what he can remember of them, as well as his sister and how she raised him. And aventurine, solemnly, tell him about how everything ended. How they were all wiped out. How it felt to live through that as a child and how he felt as the last living Avgin. Then he teaches Ratio about putting their palms together to receive giathras blessing, because he doesn’t want that to be forgotten with him if he ever fails a gamble he can’t come back from. Ratio is completely hypnotized by all the new information he’s getting, but he’s also enamored by this genuine side of Aventurine he didn’t get to see before. Ratio hoping that Aventurine doesn’t notice that he keeps needing to blink suspiciously often when the story turns dark, because Ratio probably hasn’t ever cried in front of someone before and he doesn’t want to start now. And maybe in the future they can do this again, because Aventurine couldn’t possibly say *everything* there is to know about the Avgins in one sitting, so when they’re both free Ratio might still occasionally come to him with more questions about his people (and will never admit that part of why he keeps coming back to hear more is the genuine *warm* smile Aventurine gets on his face when he remembers his home, no matter how rough and dangerous it was)
Oh I love this! It would definitely mean so much to Aventurine, to have his people's culture survive through him and to have someone willing to listen to all the memories he has kept bottled up all these years.
And later down the line, I can also see Ratio not so subtly asking him about Avgin courtship/marriage customs because he wants to do things right when asking him out/proposing.
Also these conversations would be the perfect occasion for Aventurine to eventually go: "I've told you a lot, doctor, now why don't you share something about yourself?" which would slowly get them to know each other more.
Thanks again for sharing these ideas with me, I really enjoy it!
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thepetesimp · 15 hours
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Favourite Underrated Ship? Simple answer: Every single Pete rarepair! -> PorschePete? Iconic! Brilliant! Phenomenal! Most people love "best friends who kiss", I love "secret third thing". However one enjoys them, though, they're delicious to consume😌 (You might think it's not an underrated ship, but I'd like to inform you that it has, in fact, less than 100 fics on Ao3, so it very much is in my book. I'm happy to have contributed to it by posting two of them, but I'd love it if there were more. Hopefully, I'll get inspired anew one day.) -> KinnPete? Oh please, the power dynamics make me giggle like a 10 year old girl playing with Barbie dolls. Such glorious toxicity, such perfect ways Kinn could use and abuse Pete to his benefit, either with or without knowing he's doing it. You can do so much with them, either pre, during or post canon and I get so excited thinking about it. (This one has less than 50(!) fics posted, so I'm super thankful to the few authors who have gifted me some amazing works. Sharing my personal favourite because it deserves to be cherished 🥹) -> ArmPete? Do I even need to sell this one? It can do fluff, it can do angst, it can do smut, it can do it all. My personal favourite flavour of it is Arm having unrequited feelings for Pete because it's just so deliciously angsty 😇 I love me some pain, I can't help it. (This one doesn't have any fics to its name, besides one in Chinese. I'm devastated. I did personally have an idea for a multi-chaptered fic with 3k words already written, but if I manage to focus on it properly one day, it'll end up being a simple one-shot.) -> KimPete? Oh, you mean the ship I got so obsessed over I wrote 25k words of them platonically bonding, while having Kim think to himself more than once how pretty Pete is? You mean the ship that shares so many similarities with VegasPete, while still having its own identity based on the differences between Kim and Vegas? You mean the love of my life? (Again, fics for this one are almost non-existent, which is a shame, but understandable. One day, I'll manage to enrich the tag. One day.) -> TankhunPete? Take KinnPete's fucked up power imbalance and twist it in a more peculiar direction. What you get is this ship, which makes me so uncomfortable but so, so intrigued. (Incredibly underrated with how few fics it has, but a special thanks to this one for altering my brain chemistry when I first read it.) -> BigPete? Rivals who might engage in hate sex from time to time? Pals who share the same fate and understand it and bond over it? Pick your poison and roll with it, because it's delicious either way. I'm personally team "They hate each other" because it's more fun that way 😉 (Almost nothing here again, which is a shame, but again understandable. I had forgotten they shared 2 lines of dialogue together in the show, I deadass thought they never talked to each other, which was great for me lol. Here's one fic written by the same person who wrote the KinnPete one, in case you'd like something cool to read.) -> TayPete? This one's for pure aesthetic reasons because have you seen Tay, have you seen Tay at the auction, have you imagined Pete and Tay fucking at the auction, because I surely have 🙂 It's such a gorgeous image, I lose focus for a hot minute when it comes to me. (This one's tricky, because most people write Vegas/Pete/Tay, which is a glorious choice and I support it, and my talented friend is writing a very good VPT fic, but I'd love it if there were more fics that focus on these two only. They're too powerful, I can't get enough.) I think those are all the ones I'm personally obsessed with. All I have to say is, Pete deserves all the beautiful men and what they'd like to do with him ❤️
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slaymitchabernathy · 16 hours
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Back Together Again
For once, Coriolanus is home before Soarynn.
It’s unusual and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about it. She’s at a dinner with some of her friends and his meeting was shorter than he had originally planned for so here he is, nursing a glass of whiskey while waiting for the love of his life to return.
The penthouse is so quiet without Soarynn in it. Normally, it’s filled with music and laughter. She often sings out loud or talks to her cat Petunia, who she claims can understand her. But it’s quiet.
He checks his watch again for the tenth time within five minutes and sighs. Is this how she feels all the time? Soarynn doesn’t work, he’s seen to it that she’s well taken care of but that leaves her with a lot of free time on her hands and most of it she spends shopping, going out with friends and taking care of his ancestral penthouse. She does however, spend a good amount of time waiting for him to come home every night.
Coriolanus eyes the cat sitting on the armchair across from him. Petunia’s tail flicks back and forth as the two sit in a comfortable silence. Both waiting for Soarynn. Then, they hear it. The sound of the front doors unlocking. Petunia jumps off the chair and bounds down the hallway to greet Soarynn whereas Coriolanus takes the more reserved route and simply waits. She’ll come to him like she always does.
But she doesn’t. He can hear her make her way inside and close the door. He doesn’t hear any greetings for the cat which he smugly notes but it’s so…quiet. He listens to the sound of Soarynn’s heels on the hardwood floor as they walk down the hall but she never makes it to the living room.
Coriolanus furrows his brows. Has something happened? Is she upset with him? His worries persist when Petunia comes back into the living room, her tail lowered in defeat.
Coriolanus pushes himself from the sofa and makes his way to their bedroom where Soarynn has most likely gone to. He’s proven correct when he finds the closet light on and catches a glimpse of Soarynn throwing her heels towards the other side, a childish act that he is not too fond of seeing from his girlfriend. Especially because he bought her those shoes and every fucking thing in that closet.
He also notes her expensive handbag carelessly lying on the floor as well. Coriolanus strides across the room and knocks on the closet’s doorframe before entering and finds Soarynn sitting on one of the ottomans they have in the closet. She’s hunched over as she fusses with the tights she wore tonight, trying to pull them off and not paying him any mind.
Coriolanus clenches his jaw and clears his throat, “Is there a reason as to why you failed to greet me when you arrived home?” Soarynn would often wait right in front of the doors when he got home, not wanting to wait a moment longer to see him again. This behavior is the complete opposite of what he’s used to receiving from his girlfriend and he doesn’t like it one bit.
Soarynn mumbles something incoherent and Coriolanus raises his eyebrows, “Excuse me?” Soarynn snaps her head up and he’s finally granted a few of his girlfriend’s face. Her eyes are red and filled with tears and a bit of her mascara has run down her face as well, “I said it’s none of your fucking business,” she snaps, so much anger in her tone.
Coriolanus is taken back both by the tears and the snippy attitude which he does not appreciate one bit. Soarynn is normally polite and sweet. This is not the girl he’s grown to love.
Coriolanus grabs her chin, squeezing it between his thumb and index finger, “Say that one more time,”he challenges, his tone sharp. Soarynn jerks away from his hold and stands up, slightly unsteady on her feet which means she had something to drink at dinner. “Just leave me alone,” she huffs as she brushes past him and into the bedroom. Coriolanus is right behind her and he reaches for her arm, wrapping his long fingers around it.
“Have you forgotten all your manners or are you just trying to piss me off?” He asks, pulling on her arm. Soarynn whips her head around and he can see fresh tears falling from her face, “It doesn’t fucking matter so just let me go,” she says, her voice trembling. He’s more concerned than upset at the moment but when Soarynn attempts to break free from his grip, it all goes downhill.
She succeeds in pulling away from his grasp but the alcohol in her system has stunted her senses and her foot catches under the rug they have laid out on the bedroom floor. It’s within five seconds that Soarynn is hitting the hard floor with a loud bang. Coriolanus flinches and quickly reaches down to check on her and her shaking form. He rests and hand on her back and Soarynn lets out a whimper, “I…” Her voice dies off, “I just want today to be over,” she whispers.
Coriolanus furrows his brows at her words. “What happened tonight? Did someone hurt you? Try to touch you?” He can already feel his blood boiling at the thought of another man trying to hurt his precious girlfriend.
Soarynn slowly sits up on her knees and shakes her head, “No one touched me,” she whispers. Coriolanus withdraws his hand from her back in exchange for making his way around her so that he can look her in the eye. He kneels down until they’re almost at eye level with one another, even on his knees he’s taller than Soarynn.
Her eyes are trained on the floor, tears falling onto the rug. He ever so carefully reaches out to cup her face with his hand, being oh-so gentle while doing so.
“Darling, what’s wrong?”
Soarynn sniffles and shakes her head, “It’s nothing of importance.” It probably isn’t. It’s probably about something silly and something that would never bother Coriolanus. But it’s bothering Soarynn which means it’s bothering him.
“Tell me,” he gently urges, his heart clenching at the sight of his girlfriend upset. Soarynn wipes a tear and takes in a shaky breath, “Clemmie said some things and…” Her bottom lip trembles and he knows she’s about to start crying, “And I don’t think she’s ever going to talk to me again,” Soarynn gasps, her entire body shaking as she begins to sob.
Coriolanus wishes he could take every bit of pain away from Soarynn, who’s already been through so much already. He doesn’t hesitate to pull her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her small frame as she sits on his lap, crying into his shoulder. “She hates me,” Soarynn cries in between sobs, “she absolutely hates me.”
Coriolanus highly doubts that Clemensia hates Soarynn, especially because the girl is somewhat easy to piss off and often gets into arguments with everyone. It’s a miracle that she and Soarynn haven’t already gotten into some sort of disagreement.
But it’s clearly weighing on Soarynn’s heart. Coriolanus knows how much she values all her relationships and how devastated she can get when faced with a fight. Soarynn doesn’t like arguing, she’d rather apologize and move on with things whereas Clemensia can hold a nasty grudge.
Coriolanus grows more worried though as Soarynn struggles to breathe, her breaths growing more and more erratic. “Soarynn,” he says softly, “Soarynn look at me.” Soarynn lifts her head and his heart shatters into a million pieces at the sight of his girlfriend’s teary eyed complexion. The tears aren’t slowing down and neither is her breathing.
Is this a panic attack? Does she need to lie down? Should he call the doctor?
He pushes all those questions to the side and simply focuses on her. He rubs soothing circles on her back and takes her hand in his other hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Just breathe,” he instructs, “in and out darling. In and out.” He does the breathing exercises with her, both of them taking in a deep breath and holding it before slowly pushing it out. “That’s it,” he praises, “you’re doing so well my love.”
The tears haven’t ceased but her breathing is much better and he’s no longer considering medical assistance. He wipes away a few tears before resting his forehead against hers. “It’s all going to be okay Soarynn. She’ll come around, I promise.” Soarynn scoffs and shakes her head, “I fear that she’s quite upset with me, and I’m rather upset with her as well.”
He doesn’t ask what the fight was about. Not now, when clearly anything can trigger her into another spiral. Right now he needs to do damage control, calm her down, get her some rest.
He presses a soft kiss to her forehead before cupping her face with both his hands, cradling it whilst rubbing under her eyes with his thumbs. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I saw you weren’t being your normal self and yet I attacked you before making sure you were alright,” he says, the guilt already eating away at him.
Since dating Soarynn, Coriolanus has found himself to be a better man. More patient and kind. The old him attacked first and asked questions later. He acted like that version of himself tonight, attacking his girlfriend before finding the root of the problem. Soarynn sniffles and shrugs, “It’s alright. I…I should’ve told you right when I got home.”
Coriolanus shakes his head and gently presses his fingers into the soft skin of her face, his eyes looking into her with such deep conviction, “It’s not alright Soarynn,” he insists, “I should’ve gone about it in a completely different way and yet I’ve hurt you even more in the process.” Soarynn looks down at her lap and sighs, “I forgive you Coryo. Tonight has been horrible for both of us.”
He can agree with that. He still wishes he could do more to help with the ache in her heart. “Is there anything I can do?” He asks softly. Soarynn bites her lip, “I think I just want to take a bath and go to bed.” He nods, he can do that. “Of course darling.”
꧁ ꧂
With Soarynn safely tucked in bed next to him, Coriolanus feels much better already.
She’s fast asleep in his arms, tonight’s events had taken a massive toll on her. He’d bathed her with her favorite soaps and washed her hair. Then he brought her a dessert that was undoubtedly her favorite, chocolate covered strawberries. Petunia finally proved herself useful and cuddled with Soarynn for a good half hour and the two of them seemed to help improve each other’s moods significantly.
He watches her as she sleeps. She looks so beautiful. Tonight was a painful reminder of how nasty he can get, what he’s capable of. There’s some things he knows he could never be capable of. Harming her is the main thing. Hitting Soarynn is completely out of the question. How could he harm the love of his life with his hands?
He’d turn himself into the authorities if he ever stooped so low.
Tomorrow they’ll talk about it more, what led to the fight between the girls, how to make amends. Then he’ll take her shopping and spoil her the way she deserves to be spoiled.
And should something like this ever occur again, he’ll know how the put the pieces back together again.
| tumble oneshot/drabble |
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bg-brainrot · 2 months
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"When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again" - Astarion x GN!Reader - Series Masterlist
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Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Elf!Tav for plot reasons)
Genre: Reincarnation, Angst, Mystery, Slow burn
Rating: Explicit, 18+
Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Canon-Typical Violence, cw: blood, cw: Astarion's entire backstory, cw: sex, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Fluff, Grief, Mourning, Developing Relationship
Series WC: 113k words and ongoing, 21/?? chapters
Summary: An Elf-Tav reincarnation story where Reincarnated!Tav dreams about Astarion in their nightly reveries and eventually seeks him out once they reach maturity. Things definitely totally go well.
Author’s Notes: I'm bringing over some of my multi-chapter fics from AO3, so if you've already read this, ty!! I love you and appreciate you so much! I will continue to add chapters as I format them, but the full fic is available on AO3 here if you're feeling like a binge.
Heads up-- while there will be explicit moments, this is first and foremost focused on romantic tension and yearning, asking the question: 'Would you still love me if I was someone completely different?’ Explicit scenes will be few and far between and very much focused on their feelings. It’s essentially an established relationship slow burn?
This has unascended Astarion, “good” choices are made in the original timeline, Tav needs to be an elf for this to work, but otherwise no specifics on past Tav. Present day Tav is a magic-user.
Chapters:
Chapter 1: Knifes and Nightmares
At 12 years old, you first dream of the Pale Elf. The encounter scares you and sets you on your path forward.
Chapter 2: The Second Encounter with the Pale Elf
Nearly 19, you think you have a handle of your past lives. However, not all of your past lives are created equal.
Chapter 3: What it Means to Love
Now 29, you're still trying to piece together parts of your past. In particular, what exactly was your relationship with Astarion?
Chapter 4: In this Lifetime
Now 99-years-old, you've managed to ignore your worst impulses to run off to Baldur's Gate. One night's reverie finally breaks you.
Chapter 5: Guidance from a Druid
After finally setting off to find Astarion, you receive a confounding memory from your past life. Ignoring what it might mean, you focus on your task and visiting Halsin, one of your past-self's friends.
Chapter 6: The Man of your Dreams
You make your way toward Astarion, trying your best to prepare for the encounter to come.
Chapter 7: Just One Night
You plead your case to the vampire.
Chapter 8: Who You Have Become
You try to learn more of who Astarion's become, while also trying to convince him of who you were.
Chapter 9: Ghosts of You
After he storms off, you try to track Astarion down only to find yourself on a trip down memory lane. Once you do catch his trail, you’re surprised to see where he’s gone.
Chapter 10: Overheard in the Underdark
You traverse a new landscape, looking for Astarion. What you find might be more than you bargain for, and what you hear might be too much to handle.
Chapter 11: An Interrogation
You spend the night in vampire prison and have a difficult conversation.
Chapter 12: The Source of his Pain
As you aim to leave and never look back, Astarion realizes that perhaps *he's* the one that made the mistake.
Chapter 13: And They Were Roommates
You and Astarion try to find a common ground between you. Things are awkward and tentative, and progress is anything but linear.
Chapter 14: A Blossoming Friendship
Now in your second week of living together, you and Astarion have to get past some of the hurdles your first week introduced, all while getting a bit closer along the way.
Chapter 15: More than Friends Pt. 1
Push finally comes to shove. As fun as living in the present is, Astarion forgets that present dangers are still very, very real. Afterward, emotions run high, and you find yourself in a familiar predicament.
Chapter 16: More than Friends Pt. 2
After talking through the previous night's tryst, emotions are confused, pasts are divulged, and everything comes to a head when your heart and soul want different things.
Chapter 17: What We are Now
When you’re left to your own devices, you find yourself knee-deep in mystery. Despite all of this, Astarion never leaves your mind. And perhaps you never leave his.
Chapter 18: Traveling with a Friend
You and Astarion travel together to Waterdeep. Emotions run high as you reconnect and reestablish your boundaries.
Chapter 19: The Wizard’s Tower
After traveling through Waterdeep, you and Astarion finally arrive at Gale's tower. Introductions are made, tours are had, and the relationship between yourself and Astarion continues to remain complicated.
Chapter 20: Sweets and Shopping
After receiving some advice from Gale, you and Astarion spend the day shopping and talking through your friendship.
Chapter 21: Dansarra’s Delights
Your wizard friend gives you a nigh impossible task, and you spend the day trying to find your opening to complete it.
Chapter 22 - TBA
...
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aroanthy · 1 month
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i love how fraught and complicated discourse around various utena characters ‘dying’ is when anthy is literally stabbed to death eternally by a million swords imbued with human hatred. and then utena gets stabbed to death by them also. like. ‘death’ is incredibly interesting in rgu because most of the time it’s this ambiguous figurative thing that has interesting implications re: ohtori as a closed-off world one can escape. we are all trapped in our coffins. mamiya is the only named character with a grave. nemuro memorial hall functions as one all the same. ruka is implied to have died in the hospital— was he dead all along? who was the boy we saw for these two episodes? is this dead boy the same boy, or is this just another coincidence from the shadow girls, cutting like a knife? it’s heavily implied that akio and anthy murder kanae by poisoning her, adding to the previous implication that they were poisoning mr ohtori too, but there are no perceptible consequences of this. kanae’s absence is not felt. she’s fed an apple slice. what happens to the bodies? we know what happened to the 100 boys, but what about everyone else? and so on and so forth. ‘death’ is a tricky thing in utena, i think it’s constantly functioning on figurative and literal levels in very different ways for very different purposes. dios died. dios was dying. dios didn’t die. he grew up. etc etc
#what am i trying to say here?#idk! think about all of the pieces you have#dying is complicated in ohtori in countless different ways#and i find it boring to see so much ‘this character is dead and that’s it’ stuff#when death is used farrrrrrr more figuratively than some ppl give credit for#and i think the movie too does wonderful things with death#and what ‘dying’ really means#being disbelieved. being forgotten. being rejected. haunting despite this#much more interesting to think about wrt commentary on abusive relationships than it is#to think about what?? oh me when my brother died but plot twist he’s alive and can walk on this road all cool. like?????#akio doesn’t have the power to make himself revenant#he THINKS he does and he absolutely has power when he’s alive and he imbues that power with such meaning that it does live on after him#but ANTHY. anthy is the one struggling with herself and her feelings and the impact of trauma and abuse (that power!!) in aou#he’s dead? he died? she brought him back through her memories? or she’s left him (metaphorical death) and he’s haunting her??#all such interesting interpretations#i haven’t mentioned touga bc i don’t have the energy today. if dead and just illusion of others memories then why active. why awful#like in aou akio is only Obviously scummy when he’s alive. his illusory self is based upon anthy’s love for him#if anime!touga is nothing more than nanami/whoever’s memories of him before he died……. why does he actively choose to suck again and again#like nanami wouldn’t do that. unless it was meant to be a subconscious thing like ooo he’s dead all along but that’s not what her arc is#it’s not ‘he’s been dead all along’ literally or figuratively. it’s ‘he’s unsafe and i don’t want him’#sigh. once again i am asking people to think about nanami and touga’s dynamic through touga’s eyes#it’s so interesting to me how people forget to consider his motivations or feelings on ANYTHING#like sure his motivations and feelings are scummy but they’re interesting!!!!! they intrigue me!!!!#compel me even#anyway ignore how i said i didn’t have the energy for this and then typed it all out anyway#dais.txt
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