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#I am not seeing any way to fiddle with this in settings or on the queue page itself either
amplexadversary · 4 months
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Okay. Why the fuck is my queue putting new posts at the top instead of the bottom? And the new posts don't have the mark at the bottom that lets you drag them?
This is still the case after refreshing the page. What the hell?
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ireneispunk · 5 months
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Pride, the Wolf, and the Dragon
Jacaerys Velaryon & Cregan Stark x female reader smut (King's Landing Handmaiden)
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You were a sight to behold, merely a handmaiden yet you could command a room. And grasp the attention of a prince and a lord... on the same night?
request: (anon) 'Saw your requests are open, what about dark dom jace x sub brat reader or a threesome with the same as before but with cregan too which they're dark dom but still obsessive I don't know how these too can make sense but I hope you got my point'
w.c: 4537
c.w: canon divergent (blacks won and it is set after the dance, rhaenyra sits the iron throne, basically just did it to have everyone in one place), threesome!!! woop woop, p in v sex, oral (m & f receiving), light choking, spanking, overstimulation, dirty talk, NO use of y/n, as usual no specific features mentioned - let me know if i've missed any!
a.n: i've never wrote for cregan before but im supper happy with this! other requests made are about half done for those waiting ♡
dividers: @v6que ♡
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You let out another fake giggle as yet another wealthy man bided for your attention. This type of thing always happened on big occasions, and today certainly was one. Lucerys and Rhaena’s wedding was no small occasion, every lord and lady who had supported Rhaenyra’s claim was here. I mean hells, that’s why you even had the opportunity you did. You weren’t low born, but handmaiden to the queen was a role very much reserved for high born girls. You father had risked his own life, and your families, to help Ser Erryk back into King’s Landing with a secret route he knew through Tumbleton. This job had provided you with a home in quarters you could’ve only dreamed of, and the opportunity to be around the prince. Your fingers grazed across your skin to fiddle with your necklace, you smiled up at the man in front of you, laying on your charm. Despite entertaining his dull conversation and even duller jokes for the past half an hour, you certainly did not care for him. You took advantage of the man’s position in society and every once in a while, you stared beyond his shoulder to see the prince of Dragonstone burning holes into his back. Tonight, however, was different. Not only had you caught they eye of one prince Jacaerys, but his friend from The North, Lord Stark. You could not deny the beauty the two of them shared, handsome, strong features, large frames and eyes that looked as if they wanted to consume you. The few times you looked their way, as to avoid suspicion, they occasionally whispered to one another. A small look caught your eye from your queen, Rhaenyra. You excused yourself from the conversation and walked to the other side of the great hall to where Rhaenyra and Daemon sat. From the opposite side of the table, you felt a gaze upon you, but you did not do the favour of glancing upon them.
You reached Rhaenyra’s side bowing your head before she whispered to you, “Has Lucerys’ chambers been prepared?” She seemed uncomfortable at the request.
You nodded as you said, “Yes, your grace. I can return? And make sure it is still perfect?”. She shook her head, as Daemon placed a hand upon her’s.
“No that won’t be necessary, you have done so much for us today. Feel free to keep enjoying the celebrations,” She paused to look over to her eldest son and the Lord Stark. “Though I believe there are still some who await your acquaintance.” Your mouth formed into a small ‘o’ shape before nodding. You took your leave and turned to face towards the prince and the lord. Both had already been starring at you, Jacaerys averted his gaze whilst the Stark stared you down. Once you stood opposite them at the table you gave the prince a small curtsy, before turning to Cregan and dipping into a deeper curtsey whilst maintaining eye contact with him. He raised his brow, not used to being looked in the eye by such a sweet looking girl. “Your grace. My Lord Stark, I am pleased to meet you.” You spoke confidently, introducing your name and admired the length of his arms that were visible from his rolled sleeves, “It appears the warm climate agrees with you, my lord.” This was one of your favourite hobbies, you couldn’t deny it. Compliment lords see how they respond, speak almost out of turn but not enough to turn any heads. Jacaerys’ grip on his cup tightened at your remark. For weeks since you had worked there you had tortured him. Wearing those barely there handmaiden’s dresses, the obsessive eye contact, compliments unbefitting of a lady he was not courting, drawing his baths, and offering your assistance. Everyday it was a struggle to not rip your dress from you and fuck you in front of everyone like you seemed to desire. He loathed any sort of gathering because he knew your beauty and charm would attract the attention you deserve.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a large smack across the back from his Stark friend. “Where have you been hiding this one Jace?” He exclaimed with a laugh.
You smiled slightly, “Perhaps my lord has not been searching hard enough, enjoy the rest of the celebrations.” You smirked, turning on your heel and stepping down the stone stairs. A bewildered look flashed across Cregan’s face, as Jacaerys shot him a ‘now you know’ look. You were stopped by a rather handsome man on your way past the dancing pairs, you declined his offer to dance and made your way to the other maidens who erupted into quiet chatter, asking you about what the Stark had said.
Your final task of the night had been escorting Rhaena to Lucerys’ chambers. You held her hands in yours and promised her she would be okay, you boasted of Lucerys’ sweet nature and gave her hand a quick squeeze before stepping back behind the corner. You watched as she knocked on the door, before it opened, and she disappeared inside. You smiled to yourself as you turned to head down the corridor before coming face to face with the tall northern man once more. You gasped, raising your hand to your heart. A small chuckle left his lips as he eyed you. He did not know you all that well, but this felt like a rare feat, to catch you off of yours. “My lord, you startled me. Is there something I can help you with?” You looked at him and watched as his eyes shamelessly travelled down your body, lingering on every curve.
“Ah, yes, my lady. I appear to have gotten turned around from my chambers, and I’d hate for those fancy baths these lot make go cold.” You raised a brow at him. Sure, the Red Keep was busy, with windy corridors, but it was a fairly straightforward route from the great hall to the guest’s chambers.
You gestured with your hand to follow him the way he came, “Of course, my lord. Though you do not need to use such honorifics with me, I am not a lady of anything.” He sensed a strange proudness in your lack of title. Cregan was used to people fighting to get the next best thing, yet you were content with your lack of status.
He thought for a moment, before responding. “Then how may I refer to you?”
“However his lord desires.” You spoke with purpose, but never harshly. Every second he had of you intrigued him more.
Once you had reached the familiar door in which Cregan was given a few days prior, you placed your hands behind your back and watched him. He stepped by you and pushed the door open, he leaned against the door frame and eyed you. “So.” You watched him, waiting for him to continue. “Do you have anymore handmaiden duties for the night? Or are you available for me?” A smile tugged at your lips as you thought for a moment.
“Mmm, that depends, why do you wish to know?” Your arms folded over your chest.
He chuckled, “I’ve never had to try this hard to get a pretty girl to have a drink with me.”
You raised your brow, “Most men just ask.” He brought a hand to his chin and rubbed it against the scruff. Just as he was about to respond, someone speaking caught your attention.
“It is getting late your grace is there something you need?” You recognised one of the servants voicing out from around the corner. Out of curiosity, you stepped back to see who it was and there stood the prince himself. He looked away from you when he met your gaze.
“I will come in for a cup of wine. Just one.” Cregan’s face lit up, stepping to the side to allow you to step inside. Your eyes narrowed at the lit fire, the flames still tall. You heard the clanking of a belt and the shuffling of clothes before turning back around to Cregan. You jaw dropped slightly at the sight of him completely nude and making his way over to the bathtub in the room. Your eyes absorbed every inch of him, admiring each defined muscle, every scar, the dark hair that tufted around his chest.
You pulled your gaze away and turned to face the wall. “My lord this is not appropriate.” You voice quivered ever so sightly as heat rose to your cheeks.
“Neither is staring.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “But why waste a perfectly good bath.” You heard water slosh around as he sank into the tub. “Turn around.” Your core lit up at the sternness in his voice.
You turned to face him now that he was submerged, only his upper torso out of the water. He leaned back into the tub, sighing out as he brought his arms to rest on the sides. “Wine?” He questioned. You looked at him with a puzzled look but nodded your head. He gestured over to small table and chairs that had a jug and a few cups upon it. You made your way over, feeling his gaze locked onto you.
“When you invited me in, I thought it might be you fetching the wine.” You grasped two of the cups and the jug before turning to face him.
“Ah, well. It seemed easier to get my own clothes off first.” You raised a brow and walked over to him. You kept your eyes on his face, avoiding what was beneath the water. You used your foot to slide over a cushioned stool towards the side of the bath and sat upon it. You met his gaze once more, now eye level with him. You held out a cup to him and watched his fingers lace around it. Picking up the jug in your hands you steadily poured into the cup, before moving onto your own. You were about to take a sip from yours before he stopped you to clink cups. He did so as if you were another harsh northern man causing the liquid in your cup to slosh backwards and land over your arm and into your lap. You gasped and looked up at him with a shocked look on your face. He laughed heartily at your expression and took a sip of his wine. He heard as your cup clinked against the floor, “You may clean up with me if you wish.” He smirked, placing his cup on the ground, and gesturing to the bath. You stomach tightened at the thought of it but rose to your feet with a hum. He moved slighted and raised his hand up to you. “Stay, please. No more win spilling.” His damned handsome face spread a warmth across your body. You exhaled before taking his hand.
All of a sudden you felt him pull you down, landing bum first into the bath with a big splash that threw water over the sides. You let out a small scream feeling yourself become soaked in water. You yelled at him, splashing his face with the water in annoyance before the door suddenly opening caused his laughter and your screaming to cease. You turned around to see a very angry, then confused, then embarrassed Jacaerys. Your heart dropped as you scrambled to your feet out of the bath, you slipped slightly on the wet floor before stepping towards him. “Y-your grace!” You exclaimed, you felt exposed, the thin material of your dress completely soaked through and clinging to every inch of your body. His eyes darted between you and Cregan.
“I heard a scream, and thought I recognised it. My apologies.” He was about to turn to walk away before Cregan got up out of the tub. Jacaerys eyes widened before hastily shutting the door. Jacaerys kept his eyes firmly on the wall behind you, worrying that if his pants got any tighter it’d be noticeable. For once, you were speechless, unable to form a thought, let alone communicate it. “C’mon Jace, this is exactly how you wanted her. Naked- well almost, needy. I know she’s needy just at the sight of you.” His voice rung out from behind you. “I know you didn’t imagine sharing,” He inhaled sharply through his teeth, as his fingers grazed over your shoulder to pull your hair behind you. “But she’s definitely one who needs two cocks to put her in her place.” You face flushed, as you felt a new wetness in between your legs as Cregan’s hands sat upon your shoulders, rubbing small circles with his thumb. Jacaerys finally brought his gaze to you, he eyed your face before devouring ever inch of your body. His throat bobbed as he walked to face you.
“Tell me what you want.” He spoke as he locked onto your eyes. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, feeling as if you were in a dream.
“I want you,” You spoke softly. “Both of you.” You clarified, looking back over your shoulder to meet Cregan’s eyes.
His large hand rested on your jaw, tilting it up towards him. A shaky breath escaped your lips as his hand trailed down and rested upon your neck, his thumb tracing your throat. Cregan turned your head to face Jacaerys, his jaw was tensed, fists clenched at his sides and eyes filled with hunger. Your body burned hot, Cregan’s body pressed against you, his hard cock pressed above your ass. His grip on your jaw tightened slightly. His lips grazed against your neck up to your ear. “Undress his grace,” Your heart buzzed as Jacaerys’ eyes finally tore away from yours to fleet to Cregan’s for a second before returning to you. You swallowed, feeling smaller and smaller as the seconds passed. “Go on, like a good serving girl.” Cregan’s voice dripped with lust. Your hands made their way onto Jacaerys’ chest, he stiffened under your touch. Your fingers traced along the three headed dragon pin that held his jacket together before unpinning it and letting the jacket fall open at his chest. Cregan’s hands never once left you, tracing up and down your sides of your soaked dress, lips occasionally finding your neck or shoulder. Your eyes travelled down to the belt that decorated his waist and kept you from seeing him. You unhooked it, and pulled it from him, allowing it to clatter to the ground. Your hands pushed his coat from his shoulders and down his arms, revealing a thin cotton shirt. His throat bobbed as your hands traced to his waistband, pulling his shirt up slowly over his head. You hand instinctively touched against his chest, admiring each definition and feeling his skin burn beneath your fingertips. “I told you she’s fucking needy for you.” Cregan’s words flushed your face. Jacaerys eyed you, raising a brow to question him. You nodded lightly feeling overwhelmed with the tightening in your stomach, Cregan’s hands exploring your sides, and Jacaerys watching you like you were his prey. Jacaerys picked up your hand in his and placed a small kiss against it before placing your palm against the bulge in his trousers. Jacaerys’ hand reached your jaw, his thumb traced along your lip as his brows furrowed from your touch.
His fingers were soft, and his touch more delicate than Cregan’s, as he tilted your face to the side as if he were finally able to appreciate every inch of your beauty. His eyes flashed behind yours towards Cregan before you were being led over towards the bed. Jacaerys sat first on the end of the bed, pulling you by your hips to stand between his legs. His palm ran from your stomach, through the valley between your breasts and he rested his fingertips upon your lips while he thought for a moment. “Take off her dress, wouldn’t want the poor thing getting cold.” Your thighs instinctively pressed together. You’d never heard Jacaerys speak in a tone like this, but it was certainly a welcomed surprise. You felt the large hands of the Stark trail up your exposed back to the tie of your haltered dress. One movement later the dress was pulled over your chest and over your hips and dropped to the ground. You felt a cool chill over your exposed skin as Cregan took your hand in is. He pulled you around in a circle, admiring each curve of your form as he did so. A small ‘gods’ mumbled from his lips as he watched you. You gasped as his hands travelled round to your front, taking your breasts into his hands. Jacaerys leaned back slightly to admire you, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing your inner thighs. Your eyes screwed shut as Cregan’s fingers played with your nipples and his lips attached to your neck. “I want her coming on my tongue first.” Your eyes shot open to watch Jacaerys, a small smile playing at his lips. You opened your mouth to say something before Cregan shushed you.
“You heard the prince.” Cregan instructed. You gulped lightly, watching Jacaerys lay back upon the bed, his head of curls hitting the pillows. Cregan held your hand pulling you onto the bed. He watched as you crawled over to Jace, his hand landing on your ass with a harsh slap, causing a yelp to leave your lips.
His hand pushed you closer over Jacaerys until you were straddling his chest. Jacaerys’ hands looped over your thighs to bring your core to his face. His smirk disappeared under your mound as his lips placed small kisses on your thighs. Cregan sat beside you and guided your hand to his cock. He hissed as your hand wrapped around it and began slowly pumping it up and down. You felt as Jacaerys licked a long stripe from your core to your sensitive clit, tasting and collecting your wetness on his tongue. You almost flinched at the sensation, your hand flying up to grip the headboard. A loud moan left your lips as his tongue teased your entrance, before delving in and out of it. Cregan turned your face to him, a groan leaving his lips seeing yours screwed up in pleasure. Your hand continued to pump his cock, enjoying feeling it twitch beneath your hand when your thumb grazed the tip. You jaw dropped at the feeling of Jacaery’s tongue massaging your clit. A flurry of moans left your mouth as his lips latched onto it causing your hips to rut into his face and that familiar tightness to return to your stomach. Cregan’s thumb pulled on your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth and gliding across your tongue. You moans were supressed by Cregan’s thumb as you sucked upon it, a satisfied smirk plastering his face as your eyes fell back behind your lids. His thumb left your mouth with a pop as his hand returned to your throat. Your hand moved quicker on his cock as Jacaerys tongue worked on your clit. “You should thank his grace for his hard work, pleasing you with his tongue like this.” Cregan spoke close to a whisper, well, as close to a whisper as the Northern man could get to.
You whimpered in response, unable to form words being on the precipice of your orgasm. Cregan’s hand squeezed lightly against your throat, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. “Use your words when spoken to.” His tone was harsh in a way that flushed your cheeks.
“T-thank you, my prince, for kissing me.” The words fought to escape your lips as all you felt you could do was moan. Your praise causes a groan to fall from his mouth that vibrated upon your clit and fuelled him to massage it at an unbearable pace with his tongue. Your nails dug into the headboard, as your other hand left Cregan’s cock to grip his forearm that held your neck. A flurry of moans left your lips as your orgasm erupted from within you. Your thighs quivered as Jacaerys’ tongue broadly licked you through your high. A large whimper left you lips from the overstimulation causing Jacaerys to place a final kiss upon your clit. You panted as you shuffled down back to straddle his waist. Jacaerys leaned up on his elbows to see you, his hair was dishevelled, his lips plump and coated in your arousal. You leaned forward and tentatively placed a kiss on the side of his mouth, before brushing your lips against his. Your tongue swiped over his lips, tasting your wetness. You gasped as your hips were gripped and you were pulled further down on the bed onto all fours. Jacaerys smirked as you were level with his cock, his pants becoming impossibly tight.
Cregan’s fingers teased the entrance of your pussy as he leaned forward to you, “Gods Jace, she’s soaked.” Your cheeks flushed as you looked away slightly. Jacaerys’ hand found your cheek and turned you to face him.
“I want to watch as he fucks you.” He smiled slightly; his words contradicting the sweet look upon his face. A whimper left your lips as you felt Cregan’s cock rub between your folds and occasionally hitting your sensitive clit. You watched in anticipation as Jacaerys undid the tie of his trousers and pulled them down enough for his cock to spring free. It was huge and dripped with an inviting bead of precum.
Just as your lips were about to touch Jacaerys’ cock, Cregan thrusted into you, bottoming out almost immediately. You clenched at the full feeling, your eyes screwed shut as you let out a half yelp half moan. Once his pace became regular you opened your eyes to see Jace stroking his cock at the sight of you. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, begging for his cock. He obliged and groaned at the sight and sensation of the tip hitting your tongue. With both of your hands propping you up on all fours you took him into your mouth bobbing up and down on the tip and massaging the underside with your tongue. You couldn’t help but moan onto his cock with the feeling of Cregan pounding into you, his length hitting a soft spot inside of you you’d never felt before. Cregan’s hands went from peppering small slaps across your ass to kneading it with his large hands. Jacaerys’ hand made its way to your hair and took a fistful of it. He was gentle as his guided your mouth further down his cock. He moaned loudly as it glided across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. The familiar pressure began to build up in your stomach, and as if he read your mind, Cregan’s pace quickened. Both of his hands gripped into your hips, snapping into you, and pushing against your sweet spot. One of his hands left you hips to reach under your and rub harsh circles into your clit. Your eyes widened as your moans got choked upon Jacaerys’ cock. You tapped the side of his thigh, and he immediately pulled you from his cock, allowing heavy pants to leave your mouth. You cried out a loud ‘fuck’ as you felt your second orgasm wash over you, your pussy clenching tightly over Cregan’s cock. Just as quickly as your orgasm passed your mouth reattached to Jacaerys’ cock, wanting him to enjoy himself too.
A few moments after your peak, Cregan thrusted a few more times before burying his cock deep inside of you and filling you up with his cum. He groaned loudly as his fingertips dug into your skin. He slowly pulled out of you and collapsed onto the bed behind you. Despite the shaking in your legs and your sensitive pussy, you looked up to Jacaerys with an idea. You readjusted to straddle his waist once more and aligned his cock with the entrance of your pussy. Jacaerys looked shocked for a moment before his hungry gaze returned. Your brows furrowed as you slowly slid down onto his cock, trying to readjust for his size. You watched as his head threw back in pleasure as your second cock of the night bottomed out inside of you. You started to move, slowly thrusting yourself upon him. Jacaerys eyes opened to watch you, occasionally looking down to his cock disappearing inside of your pussy that was now overflowing with cum. A loud groan left his lips as he internally cursed himself for not being able to last longer and savour your pussy smothering his cock. He pulled you down by your hair to meet his lips as he kissed you deeply. It was passionate, his tongue leaving little time before it delved into your mouth. You moaned against his lips at the new angle, he was managing to fill you even more. Your thighs shook with overstimulation and Jacaerys noticed before he held your hips at a certain point and began to thrust into you. Your eyes locked with his as you moaned his name. He grunted as his rhythm became erratic before holding your hips down on his cock and as you felt his seed spread within you. You rested your forehead against his as you both regained your breath. His hands ran softly down your back as he pulled his cock from you. You whimpered at the emptiness, before sitting back onto your thighs to relieve the quiver in them as Jacaerys re tied his trousers.
You heard footsteps walk over to the side of the bed, before looking up to see a fully clothed Cregan. You blushed, realising how consumed you had been in the prince to not notice. “Aren’t you both just adorable.” He spoke with a chuckle, as his hand lightly spanked your ass. You shot him a glare, moving to lay beside Jacaerys. “Easy,” Cregan spoke raising his palm. “I though you were the fire breathing dragon.” He smirked gesturing to Jacaerys. Jacaerys, turned his head down to face you, before returning a shrug to Cregan with a smile. Cregan laughed, waving you off before making his way to the door. “Sleep tight, lovers.” He smiled to himself as his hand gripped the doorhandle.
“Wait! But this is your room?” You questioned, leaning up from the bed.
He shot you a grin, “I heard the prince’s chambers have become available.” He shot you both a wink before disappearing into the corridor. You hummed in confusion as Jacaerys just smiled.
“You both confuse me.” You hummed, scanning Jacaerys’ face. He raised his arm up and motioned you to lay beside him. You huffed as you cuddled into him, your head upon his chest. He reached for the blanket that had been tossed aside and threw it over you both. His hand landed upon your side, and softly rubbed your waist.
He planted a small kiss upon your head. “I think we both did a good job at showing you what we think of you.” You could hear the smile in his voice as your cheeks flushed. You definitely knew for sure now.
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borrovved · 2 months
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10 minutes | p.sh
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mdni | tutor!sunghoon x brat!reader
wc: 1237
smut: uhhh public sex? it's in a storage closet lol. choking. creampie. unprotected sex (wrap it up plz), oral male receiving, cum eating, spitting, hoon is a dom and the reader is a brat. brat summer anyone?
Sunghoon has no idea what came over him. Seeing you with Jake set off alarms in his head and suddenly he’s grabbing your hand and wanting to fuck you in the janitor’s closet at school. He’s not sure what it is, but the idea of you being fucked by Jake Sim isn’t sitting well with him, so he himself has to be the one that does it.
It’s supposed to be a no strings attached thing where you teach Sunghoon how to pleasure a girl and he teaches you about derivatives. Nothing more. Alas, he’s a hormonal boy that likes marking you as his- he’s going to be a little possessive. He usually marks you smack dab in the middle of your neck and you do the same to him. No one bats an eye because no one fathoms that Park Sunghoon would be with the likes of you. That should be enough. But no, he wants you all to himself right here, right now.
He pushes you against the stone cold wall of the small stuffy room with his hand having a firm grip around your neck.
“What the hell was that? Being a bit brave today? Being a bigger impetuous slut than usual?” He seethes.
You chuckle a bit. You are in fact feeling a bit brave today. Usually you’re not that secretive with who you’re sleeping with, but the idea of being the one that took sweet Sunghoon’s virginity is something you really do have to keep to yourself. Now he’s a little devil in the sheets, the shy timid boy long gone.
“Hmm, you could say that-“
“Shut up and get on your knees.” He says as he quickly undoes his belt on his slacks. They pool along his ankles and you drop down, no questions asked. Seeing his pale thighs makes you want to rake your fingernails along the skin. Perhaps leave a hickey on his inner thigh?
“Don’t waste my time. We have 10 minutes before lunch ends.” He says breathily.
“Aw, no foreplay baby? No kiss for me to get me warmed up?” You say as you bat your lashes with a lilt to your voice.
He bends slightly to your level and grips your jaw hard enough for you to stand up. He spits in your mouth and nips at your ear, saying very lowly, “You’ll get your turn. Behave.”
You drop down once again, wetness now pooling between your legs, not having a care in the world that the dull pain in your knees is blooming. You pull out his cock and lick along his shaft, hearing a slight hiss pass his lips. You finally take him fully into your mouth, and he releases a guttural moan. You bob your head against him at a steady pace while he grips your head to take him in deeper. He loves the way your eyes water and the tears roll down your cheeks as you gag on him.
“God you look gorgeous just like this, all for me.” Sunghoon says.
You take him in as far as you can, digging your fingernails deep into the back of his thighs as a signal that you can’t take any more.
“Get up.” He orders. You happily oblige. He finally kisses you, cupping your face gently, almost sweetly. The kiss is deep and full of so much fervor. He pulls apart and looks into your eyes for a moment, and in that moment, time slowed and it felt like it was just him in your little universe.
He breathily says against your lips with his left hand gripping your breast, “Six minutes.”
Right. It’s a quickie. Not lovemaking or anything frivolous like that.
Before he pulls down your underwear underneath your skirt he feels the damp spot between your legs that he created. He slides his fingers along your clothed folds and hums. He fiddles with the little bow on your panties.
“Cute.” He rasps.
“Sunghoon for the love of god I can’t take it anymore, just fuck-“ before you even finish he has a firm hold on your neck again.
“Nuh uh. You’re not calling the shots right now. I am.”
He pulls aside your pantries and inserts two fingers. You have to bite your lip to hold in the moan you want to let out so badly. He kisses you and he has the reins- he’s the one in control and you’re loving every moment of it. He pumps his fingers languidly while his left hand holds the back of your head to deepen the kiss. You pull away briefly.
“Please fuck me Sunghoon.” You say softly and sincerely.
He reattaches his lips to yours once again and he gives his dick a few pumps and runs it along your slit, pulling down your underwear fully. You wrap your leg around his waist as he enters you, leaving you both moaning.
“So- fuck, tight.” He says in your ear in a low mumble, but you hear it clearly. He did a few slow thrusts but the bell for the five minutes left of the lunch period rang. He doesn’t have time to appreciate your slick walls. He lifts your leg up even higher and starts railing you like his life depends on it.
The soft pants he lets out juxtapose the loud smacking sound of skin against skin. He loves it. He lives for it.
“Mine. All of you, mine.” He enunciates every word with each thrust and you swear you’re seeing stars.
“Please cum in me. Mark me. Make me yours.”
He listens obediently. He’s at his limit and rubs your clit with his thumb as he rides out his high. Ropes of his cum shoot into you, some dripping down your thigh as he pulls away slowly.
Before he does though, Sunghoon says, “Wait. Hang on.” He attempts to gather as much of his cum with his two fingers and pushes it into your mouth to suck on, fucking the rest of it into you so you don’t waste a single drop.
He pulls out and you two start to freshen up as best as you can by using each other as your mirrors.
“Do I have sex hair?” You ask.
“Erm, yeah, let me fix it.” Sunghoon says. He tries his best to fix what has been done. Moments pass and he’s still really close to you with his hands running through your hair and patting it down.
“I just wanted a kiss.” You say quietly.
“What?” He questions, still adjusting your hair.
“I was all over Jake so you would notice. Just wanted you to kiss me.” You pout while giving him those puppy dog eyes. He chuckles. He bestows the most gentle kiss you’ve ever felt from any boy ever.
“You could’ve just asked, silly.” He says affectionately.
“That’s so lame though.” You say while looking down. Hookups don’t ask for sweet kisses. That’s not normal, you think.
He kisses your forehead and says softly, “but who cares?” You can’t even enjoy the tender moment when you notice how the final bell rings.
“Shit, we’re gonna be late!” You say wide eyed. All of your things are still in the cafeteria and your next class is not around the corner, in fact, it takes the full passing period to get there. You scurry out, leaving a disgruntled Sunghoon behind.
He wanted a kiss too.
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bumblequinn · 11 months
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care, bee 🐦
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bookofbonbon · 8 months
Text
green is not your colour (1) - coriolanus snow.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.
Warning: Implied cheating.
Summary: You've been engaged to Coriolanus Snow for a few short weeks and have been living together for even shorter but, the betrothal is put through its first test when Coriolanus's affair makes itself known. Part (1/2).
Wordcount: 1.3k.
A/N: This takes place in the 'You Keep Him There' universe. A couple of months before Christmas Kiss. Please tell me you catch the Yellowstone reference.
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11 months ago.
The stone bench cuts into the skin of your exposed thigh, one leg crossed over the other as your arm rests along the back of the garden seat. Goosebumps cover the length of your body; remnants of last night’s cold snap are still evident as the icy blanket that covers the Manor’s grounds slowly melt away with the slow rising sun. 
Of course, the cold was of no concern. Not when you had your new found habit to keep you warm. 
Taking a drag from the lit cigarette between your fingers, your gaze is unwavering as you stare down the anxious chauffeur who had pulled into the driveway of your new home at the same time that you did - belonging neither to you or Coriolanus.
It had taken you all of 30 seconds to piece together what was going on and who the car belonged to - after all, you weren’t supposed to be home until the afternoon. You aren’t surprised Coriolanus would do this but, it doesn’t make it hurt any less; doesn’t temper the green eyed monster threatening to rear its ugly head.
Sure, you didn’t like him but, the two of you had known each other your entire lives; would marry in less than a year, he belonged to you- you'd hoped those things would at least mean something to him too but, it doesn’t and again, that doesn’t surprise you but, you are disappointed. Disappointed that he would bring this into your home.
The chauffeur fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves, unsure of where to look as his gaze shifts nervously between you and the front doors until finally, they open and he relaxes slightly, eager to escape the weight of your stare as he wrenches the car door open for his passenger. 
You watch, hidden from their view as she emerges from your home, bidding farewell to your fiance. Crushing the cigarette, you wait until she’s about to enter the car to make your presence known. 
“I always suspected there may be something more between the two of you but, to become his mistress?” You stand, making your way over to her. 
Stopping a metre out, you drag your gaze lazily over her figure until you meet her own surprised one. 
“My, my, Clemensia, I never expected that from you,” you tut. “Although, I won’t lie. After your… stint in the hospital back in our academy days, I didn’t think he’d ever look at you again.” 
She flinches at your words but it doesn’t keep her down for long. The red-eyed, puffy-cheeked beauty straightening her back and puffing her chest with an air of arrogance that you did not appreciate. 
“What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” you repeat, laughing at the nerve of her. “Clemensia, this is my house. I can come and go as I please but, you? Well, we are going to have a problem if I see you around here again.”
"You can't stop me. He was mine first."
You take an intimidating step closer. 
“You want to sleep with Coriolanus? Fine. That’s your choice but, not in my house. Affairs are for hotels not homes, and if you ever step foot in mine again, I will make sure you never take another step again. Got it?”
She swallows thickly but nods her understanding. 
"Good. Now get off of my property before, I have you removed from it."
You don’t wait for her to go, sights immediately set on the fool you were to take as your husband in less than a year.
“Coriolanus,” you yell, throwing the doors open, anger finally revealing itself. “Coriolanus!”
You find him sitting at the head of the dining table, looking equally as surprised as his whore to see you. Unlike her however, he’s quick to hide it. 
“When did you-”
“You keep your whores out of my house, Coriolanus,” you warn him. “You keep your whores out of my house or I will teach you a lesson that I promise you will never forget.”
-
You spend the rest of the day sleeping, too tired from the morning's events and traveling to do anything else but rest, so it’s dark out by the time you leave your room. 
Padding down the staircase, your tummy makes its hunger known, growling out for anyone awake to hear. Sleepily, you make your way to the kitchen, not noticing the dim light emitting from the space until you're already inside with an unwanted guest. 
You look at him for a moment, thinking about whether to tuck tail and turn away or continue on your journey for food- your stomach makes your decision for you however, when it growls again. 
Coriolanus is the first to speak. “There's a plate in the fridge for you.” 
You don’t acknowledge him, opening the fridge in silence and indeed finding the plate of food inside. You pretend he’s not there as you move around the kitchen to warm your food up. When everything is ready, you take a seat at the kitchen bench- it’s then that Coriolanus decides to speak again.
“I think we should talk about this morning.”
“We have,” you answer him, tone clipped. “And I told you not to bring your whores into my house again.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
You breathe a laugh of disbelief. Was it not enough to discover what you did this morning now, he wanted to discuss it too? Picking up your plate, you make to leave- there were other rooms in this place that you could eat peacefully in. 
“It’s over-” he follows after you, blocking your path. “Me and Clemmie. I ended things with her.”
“Clemmie,” you scoff the name. “How very considerate of you. Does she know that?”
“She does and I didn’t end it because of what happened this morning- I ended things weeks ago. She’s just having a hard time letting go but, I promise it is. I’m with you.”
You pause- pinching the bridge of your nose.
“You should’ve ended it months ago, well before we even got engaged.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” 
You nod but don't forgive him and he uses your silence to keep talking. 
“I want to make this work, I want us to get along, I want-” he hesitates, taking your free hand. “I want you to like me.” 
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“You made it very clear in the Academy that you don’t, I doubt your opinion of me has changed much since.” 
You smile bitterly down at your joined hands. Your dislike for Coriolanus in school differed vastly from why you disliked him now.  
You wonder if it would ever be possible to like Coriolanus Snow now. 
It was hard to see the possibility when your entire being now depended on marrying him. Your grandparents had already loved him, he was Old Guard, cut from the same cloth and as he got older, they saw the future in Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panem. And that was before the proposal was even brought to them. Once it was… they would be damned if you married anyone else. When you attempted to go against it, they had made it known that they were more than willing to reduce you to nothing; taking steps to ensure you couldn’t refuse by hinging your inheritance of the Blizzard Telecommunications and Mass Media Empire and wealth on marrying him. Coriolanus Snow had snatched any freedom or hope for the future you envisioned for yourself away from you and he didn’t even know it. 
Maybe one day you’d move past it or maybe one day he'd accept that you never would but, for now you settle for “maybe you can start with buying me a new house.”
Coriolanus chuckles but you're being serious and he agrees, "soon."
“And Coriolanus?”
“Yeah?”
“I don't ever want to see you with Clemensia Dovecote again. I don’t take kindly to those who you would threaten to take what is mine. Green is not my colour and, I promise you won’t like seeing me in it either.”
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.
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kkvqwrites · 1 year
Text
Bedside Manner
Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.
Word Count: 2,587
Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell
CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures
A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!
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"Dear? Everything okay?"
The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.
"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.
This could not be happening.
"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.
"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.
"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"
"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.
______________________________________________________________
The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.
"It's open!"
Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.
"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"
"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."
"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.
"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.
"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."
"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.
"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.
"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."
"Where are we at?"
"Thirteen minutes, sir."
The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.
"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"
"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.
"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "
"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."
"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.
"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."
The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.
"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."
You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."
The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."
______________________________________________________________
Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.
"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"
"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"
Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.
"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"
Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.
______________________________________________________________
True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.
The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.
You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.
Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.
______________________________________________________________
"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:
"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."
"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.
"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.
"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."
"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."
"What? How do you know?"
"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."
The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.
"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"
"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"
Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.
______________________________________________________________
"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.
Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.
"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.
"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"
"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.
One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 
 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 
Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.
“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."
Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.
______________________________________________________________
You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.
“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.
“Thank God for that,” he replied.
“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”
“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.
“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”
“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”
On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”
“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”
You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.
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divinesolas · 4 months
Text
Not a one time thing
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r.q: being friends with benefits, with jace where you both end up drunk at a party and end up having sx and the next day you guys laugh it off and forget abt it. but jace starts to crave you more and first you’re hesitant about it, but then you guys agree on friends with benefits. now you guys js randomly whenever you’re stressed or in the mood and calling eachother in the middle of the night. jace starts to catch feelings and like fights the urge to say ily while they’re doing it. and then they js like end up together idk. but you’re like my fav jace writer rn
w.c: 1k
c.w: slight nsfw, sweet jace, mutual pining, fwb to lovers, cute little drabble, not proofread, written with f!reader in mind but is basically gn!reader
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You thought your slip up with Jace would be a one time thing, that after the two of you walk out of the party laughing about it that that would be it. Yet not even two nights later you’re staring down at a “are you up?” text from him. You don’t answer him, texting him back in the morning and saying you had been asleep and asking him what he needed, he had said it was nothing and he ‘figured it out’ but that just left you way too curious.
Yet when he shows up at your house at two am with his puppy dog eyes and a rock between his legs you let him push you on the couch and let him have you once again. When you wake up and he’s making breakfast in your kitchen shirtless you decide to lay down some ground rules to quell the pounding of your heart.
Strictly friends with benefits. No feelings attached. exclusively one another, definitely a rule in place just to avoid stds, no other reason. Arrangement must be broken off is one of you begins to like someone else.
Sounds easy enough. Its a good stress reliever for you, whenever you have a test or your studying is not going as well as expected you give him a ring and he’s quick to show up to take your mind off of it and you do the same for him. It works well, at least for you, but Jace seems to be struggling a lot more then you are.
You can’t tell he is of course. He is good at hiding it, but it begins to grow more and more daunting as he’s thrusting into you, staring at your with heart eyes that you can’t see since your eyes are closed, his thumb rubs affectionally on your jaw as he watches you climax, it’s gotten to the point he has no care for his own pleasure, he gets his fill from watching your eyes rolls in the back of your head.
Four times. It was a new record for him. Four times he almost told you that he loved you. He watches you as you scroll through your phone, oblivious to the internal battle he’s having. You are so beautiful. You haven’t even bothered to put back on any of your clothes, he admires you fully, he had no clue how long he was until you look at him with a raised brow, “You like what you see big guy?”
He loves you.
He simply reaches over and places a kiss on your lips before he lays back down. “What’s that for?” Because i love you. “To shut you up.” You roll your eyes and smack him on the chest. “Says you while staring at my bare chest you perv.”
He thinks he can keep it in for awhile, let his feelings pass. Yet he ends up blowing up. You have been spending a lot more time with cregan. Cregan fucking stark his best friend yet he has never wanted to murder a man more. Why are you walking around and smiling with him? Why did you fucking bail on him one night to hang out with cregan?
“Is this over?”
You turn to him confused, setting down the pizza you had ordered for the two of you down on the table and shake your head, “What are you talking about?”
His posture is rigid, he’s fiddling around with his fingers, he would normally be shirtless but you take notice of the fact he’s wearing a plain white shirt. “Are we over?”
“No? Why would,” You attempt to put it in the words, we seems to intimate despite the fact that's how he worded it, “our arrangement,, end? You like someone?”
“What about cregan? You like him don’t you?” You tilt your head at him and let out a confused laugh. “You mean your best friend cregan? what the fuck are you on about?”
“You said our arrangement ends if one of us starts to like someone else.” “Yes i did, so what you think i like cregan?” “Yes.” This is what breaks you and you laugh, you cover your face in your hands as you turn away and you laugh. “what the are you talking about? No i don’t like cregan. Why would it matter if i did?”
“Because i love you.” You freeze. You turn around quickly to stare at him with wide eyes. “What?”
“I love you. I don’t want to be some stupid arrangement. I want there to be us, we. Together.”
You gulp, you feel your feelings you’ve kept locked down bubbling up to the surface. You have to be rational, he is clearly not thinking straight you know him. “Jace. This is coming from you being jealous you shouldn’t say stuff like that. Hey ill stop hanging out with cregan without you-”
“No. I’m in love with you. This is not because I’m fucking jealous, sure maybe i am but i am so madly in love with you everyday i have to stop myself from professing my love to you from the highest mountain. If I'm saying this because I'm jealous then why do i feel the urge to tell you i love you while you’re withering underneath me. I love you.”
He had made his way over to you. He stands in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. “If you don’t feel the same we should end this. Never speak again, maybe that would kill me but i can’t just keep ignoring how i feel for you any longer.” He tenses in your silence, “Please answer me.”
“I never wanted to get into this arrangement with you because i knew one day i would crack. I ignored your calls and texts because i was so nervous to begin this dangerous game with you because i am so madly in love with you Jace.”
He rushes to cup your cheeks and he pulls you into a kiss. You can feel him grinning against your lips and he must feel the way you’re smiling back.
“Does boyfriend Jace fuck anything different than friend Jace?”
“You’re about to find out.”
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perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife
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eyesxxyou · 1 year
Text
Backstage Show Pt.2
★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader
rating. m
word count. 3k
synopsis. after a show, you and hobie fine yourself an an alley for a little fun. little do you know, you have an audience
or
hobie fucks you in an alley in front of paparazzi
🍒・.❕warnings. exhibitionalism (sex in backalley of venue), p in v sex, unprotected sex not advised, clothed sex, anal fingering (f receiving), ass eating, fingering, public sex, degradation, little bit of a size kink, hobie has a bit of a god) superiority complex, y/n is a group who'd do anything for her idol, bit of a power dynamic fr, this is a bit toxic but gets sweet at the end y'all so hold on
backstage show pt.1 | backstage show pt.3
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If you told yourself a couple of months ago that you’d be the Hobie Brown’s fuck buddy, following him around while he tours, always there with open arms, open legs, and an open mouth, you would have called yourself delusional and admitted yourself into a mental hospital. But here you were, in the backstage VIP section watching the show from the best seats in the venue.
You had no idea why Hobie’s kept you around for this long. Compared to others, in your own opinion, you weren’t all that unremarkable. You were pretty, but not the prettiest, good at sex but not the best. But you could only truly narrow it down to your devotion to him. You worshiped him like a god, kissed the very ground he walked on. Maybe he liked the attention, the way he could always be sure that you’d do absolutely anything he asked of you.
You met up with him at every one of his shows, both before and after and depending on whether you fucking him before or after the show (usually before so he could steal your panties and keep them in his pocket while on stage as a "good luck token"), you'd hang out with him and his bandmates, smoking pot and throwing back shots while they recall stories of their earlier days on the road, just the 4 of them and their old van.
His bandmates took you in as an unofficial member of the band without so much as a hitch. A band member they all took turns flirting with but a member nonetheless.
After the show, The Mary Janes came backstage and you rushed to Hobie to praise him over his performance. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands came to support you by grasping your waist. He kissed you feverishly, the rush and exhilaration of the concert still coursing through his veins and screaming to get out in any way possible. The way his tongue stroked yours told you neither of you would get far before his cock would be bullying its way inside your greedy pussy.
“You did so good.” You murmured against his thick lips, your tongue pressed against his lip piercing. “You looked so sexy.” Hobie nipped at your bottom lip and set you down. “I would’ve gone betta if I saw tha’ pretty face of yas out in the crowd.” It it was decided then that there would be no watching from backstage from you, you’d sit at the front of the crowd because Hobie couldn’t perform his very best without seeing his girl.
“Fuck the rest of us then.” Eli, the drummer, muttered snarkily under his breath as a joke. You turned around to look at him in his heterochromatic eyes and slapped his chest as he towered over you. “Not fucking you, am I? I can only handle one pretty face at a time.”
Another band member, Cass, with his locs up in a ponytail and fiddling with his guitar, hummed. “Ya could be though.” They often made jokes about Hobie letting them share you and each time he had the same response. “I don’ like to share wha’s mine.” He’ll eat in front of them but they’ll never get any of the food.
Hobie tapped your ass in the booty shorts you were wearing. “You ready to head out, luv? We gotta go through the back or one of us is gonna get trampled.” He grabbed you by the waist with a possessiveness that told his mate to back off or someone’s head is getting bashed in with a guitar and pulled you into him. He didn’t even have to ask, you were willing to go whenever he was, wherever he was. “Yeah, let’s go.”
The two of you said your goodbyes to his bandmates and made your way through thebackstage to get to the back exit. Hobie kept teasing you along the way, walking with his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of the slutty little shorts you had on, his teeth nipping at the soft, supple flesh of your neck, leaving small bruises where his teeth violated your innocence.
Once you two breached out of the door, Hobie spun you around and pressed you up against the heavily graffitied wall with his lips on yours and his tongue in your mouth, coaxing moans from you which he swallowed as if it were the only sustenance in the world.
“Ma pretty girl.” He cooed into your mouth as he nipped at your tongue . “Always righ’ there fa me. Always down fa anytin’.” His fingers fiddled with the button to your shorts for a moment before undoing them and pulling the useless piece of fabric down just enough to gain access to your pussy. “‘M gonna fuck you righ’ here in this alley, all’em fans just down the way. Anyone can see us. And you’re gonna let me, aren’t ya?”
You nod feverishly, looking up at him as you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. You could hear people walking by, chanting Hobie’s name in hopes that it might coax him to come out and greet them. Anyone one of them could walk right by and see him fucking you stupid and you didn’t care. Not as long as you were the one he was fucking.
“Turn aroun’.” He grabbed you and forced you to turn around. You braced yourself against the wall with your hands, your ass perked out and your back arched, revealing your pussy and asshole to him to use as he pleased through a brand new set of nylon stockings.
Hobie slapped your ass hard, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing off the walls loudly. He wanted to see how much noise he could get away with before someone noticed, not caring if anyone rounded the corner and saw the two of you fucking under the flickering light of the alley. He wanted someone to see your depravity, the way you were so irrationally dedicated to him, the way you’d do anything for him.
He brute forced his way through your stocking, tearing a hole big enough for him to get to your pussy. “No panties? Wha’ a bad girl.” He spanked you again and you yelped at the sting of it, his hand undoubtedly left a print against your ass.
Hobie got down on his knees in behind you, his large, calloused, rough hands spreading your ass to further expose your delicacies. Your pussy was slick with your arousal, no need for preparation. "So wet already, baby. My performance go' you all hot and bothered, then?" His voice was warm against your core and you whined and whimpered with choking words of something of agreement. His performance always got you hot and bothered. There was something both so chaotic yet sensual about the show he put on. If anyone could give Hobie anything, they'd say he certainly had stage presence.
Hobie coaxed his fingers between the warmth of your cunt before easing a single long, slender finger into you. Your silky walls clamped down around the digit in desperation for any stimulation. "Hobie~" you sang his praises as he fucked his finger in and out of you. He wish he had something to record this so he could put it into a song but alas, something like that would have to wait.
Then he added another finger, curling his fingers against your silken walls. "'m pretty girl." He almost sang, fingering you nice and hard with his tongue and lips against your asshole, eating you out in a far different way than you ever expected. He ate your ass easily, languidly, all lips and tongue breaching the tight rim of your ass just a little. "Relax, babe, relax."
You listen to his command despite the anxiety of the crowd whose edges were slowly crawling it's way nearer to the alley as more people added themselves to the awaiting crowd. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and forced your body to relax a little for him. You loosenedd up in accordance, making it easier for Hobie to finger fuck you and sloppily make out with your second hole.
His fingers massaged that soft spot within you, his tongue on your ass sending soft jokes of pleasure to your core as he abused your spot mercilessly. He spat on you like you were nothing but an object of her pleasure, making it known that he was doing all this for him, not for you. Hobie paused a moment and pulled his face back, watching a glob of his saliva run down from your ass to your pussy before being pushed in by his fingers that splayed your pussy open in preparation for his much larger cock.
You whined for him, nails clawing at the concrete walls. "Keep going. I'm almost there. Please, Hobes." You needed it like you needed air in your lungs to breathe or you'd simply die without it.
Hobie scoffed at your plea for some semblance of kindness from him. "Desperate whore." He murmured and went right back to eating you. You were so close your legs trembled with the mere idea of cumming on his fingers and face and the more you thought about it, the closer it came to coming true until your walls were pulsating around his fingers and your ring of muscles clenched with the intensity of the orgasm that washed over you.
Your knees buckled into each other and you would have fallen down if not for you being braced against the wall. "Hobie…please fuck me. Please– I'll do anything, please." You wanted him to extend the kindness a human gives to another and fulfill your ask to the fullest degree.
You'd come to regret that.
You listened in anticipation as he stood back up onto his booted feet and undid the buckle to his belt. He unzipped his pants to let himself free from the restraints of his clothing. He was already so hard just at the sight of you splayed open for him without so much as a shred of dignity in sight. You pushed your ass out further until your checks framed his cock and you began rubbing yourself on him. “Please Hobie.” You whined softly, looking back down the alley to ensure the two of you weren’t seen.
The risk of it made your anxiety all the greater but the sexiness of the moment greater than even that. The risk made him harder and made you wetter.
“Tha’s i’. Dirty lil’ slut can’ help haself.” Hobie grasped your hips and forced you to keep going. He couldn’t help but rut his cock against your ass, slipping it in the hole he made so he could feel his skin against yours and the heat and slick of your pussy against his balls. He grunted into your ear, spitting lewd obscenities at you while nibbling at your lobe.
“Put it in fa me, luv. Since you wan' I'm so badly.”
You whimper softly and reach behind you to grasp him at the base of his cock. You stroked his length a bit, dragging a few moans out of him along with it before directing the tip of his cock towards your dripping cunt. You prepped him the way he always did himself, dragging the leaky head of his dick between your swollen pussy lips so that your shared juices intermingled against your clit.
Hobie slapped your ass once more and this time you cried out at the pain. “I said put it in, didn’ I?” You nod in compliance and quickly positioned the head of his cock against your entrance. You tried to guide him in by he was simply too big for you to do it on your own. “I– I can’t, Hobie. Plea— ahh!” He forced his cock into you with one solid, fluid thrust into your tight hole, forcing out something of a moan and a scream from you. You slapped your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet, looking out down the alley once more.
Hobie didn’t seem to care not one bit as he held your hips still and fucked you nice and rough. He let out noise running parallel to huffs, growls, and groans. “Bes’ cunt ou’ there. This pussy gonna be the death of me.” There was something primal about the way he fucked you. There were no niceties, no pleasantries, no manners. Just rough fucking in the dark backalley of a venue he was just performing inside of. You weren't some girl he had to wine and dine before he could get into bed. You were just some slut he could convince to do anything. And it didn't even take much to convince you to let him fuck you in an alley.
He fucked you dumb, stupid, half brain-dead with your face pressed into the wall, lips parted and drooling while you moaned. He fucked you at an angle, ensuring that if someone did happen to come down there, they wouldn’t be able to see your face. Hobie towered over you, his body completely consuming yours while his hips fucked up into you, each thrust lifting your a little more off the ground until he was supporting your complete weight in his hands as your feet no long touched the wet, littered ground.
You let out muffled squeals and screams. He’s never fucked you like this, fucked you so animalistically. You should be scared all things considered but it only made you wetter, your pussy leaving a creamy ring around the base of his cock. “Shut up and take it.” He muttered, looking down at the way his cock split your hole open with each brutalizing thrust he delivered to your weeping pussy. Each stroke of his cock forcing you to accommodate his size, each thrust forcing your walls to memorize each groove, each vein, each stretch of him. He fucked you like you were his own personal sex toy and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it
His cock touched places that, before him, you never even knew existed. You could feel him bulge in your belly, you could feel him in your throat. You could feel him everywhere, that sweet, thick head of his just barely kissing your cervix, undoubtedly coating it in pre-cum.
“You wanna lemme try sometin’?”
“Anything.”
Satisfied with your answer, Hobie took one hand from your hips— still supporting your weight somehow— and spat on his fingers. You shivered as he placed them on your puckered asshole and spread his saliva across your second hole, prepping you, you realized. You had never done anything anal related before but you kept yourself clean down there just in case a moment like this arose. You were nervous however, as anyone would be if they were getting the shit fucked out of them in an alley with a slew of people just on the cusp of witnessing an actual crime.
“‘S jus’ a finga, okay? Jus’ ma thumb.” He assured you that he wouldn't be doing anything crazy. No here at least. He kept fucking you as he eased his thumb past the tight ring of muscles and immediately you moaned and shuddered as the feel of it intruding into your body. “Hobie…Hobie please.” It was all so much. You felt that you might simply pass out if he continued like this.
He fingered your asshole while fucking you, pressing and messaging the even tighter walls of your ass while your pussy greedily swallowed his cock with each of his thrusts. You were seeing white, crying out so loud that someone has had to hear you by now but you simply couldn’t care at this point. Hobie was fucking your too good for you to care, the rest of his fingers splayed across the small of your back as he uses his new grip on you to fuck you even harder.
This was the kind of fucking that made you revere him, worship him like the sex god he was. You kiss his feet if he wanted, lick his boots, let him degrate you, spit on you, use you as his own personal cum dumpster if he so chose because the orgasm ravishing your body right now was makinging you see white, your gaze lose focus, and your ears ring.
“Hobie, Hobie, Hobie!” You chanted his name as if calling upon a deity to help you, like a prayer on your lips to a god who wasn’t there and you just needed him to hear you. You came a second time, creaming all over his pretty dick, leaving the dark skin glistening in white from your cum.
You could hear Hobie come down from his own high, fucking cum into you with a low, gravelly groan into your ear. His final thrusts were spaced and rough as he emptied his balls into your pussy and once he was done he removed all appendages from you and quickly made you decent before someone could see you stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey.
You could feel his cum leaking out of your pussy as Hobie helped you out of the alley, tossing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you in close to protect you from the paparazzi’s intrusive photos. You thought about how later you were going to finger yourself again with his cum still inside you, hopefully able to get him on the phone to help you through it.
Later on that week, you saw a tabloid magazine about Hobie and smack dab as the front picture was you and Hobie in the alley fucking. You couldn’t see either of your faces but it was very clearly Hobie from his wild hair. In a panic, you called Hobie, babbling on and on about how you shouldn’t have done that and that you might lose your job.
“Is your face in the photo?”
“Well…no.”
“Then how will they know it’s you?” He made a good point. As long as no picture showed up with your face in it, you had nothing to worry about. You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “You’re right, sorry. Okay, I’ve gotta go but I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
“Of course, luv. Have a good night.”
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f0rlorn · 2 months
Text
when he sees me → logan howlett
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logan howlett (x-men) x female!reader
notes → in which jean and ororo set you up on a blind date with a wolverine. in honor of deadpool and wolverine throwing me back into my x-men phase full force, i nabbed this from my wattpad. fair warning, it was written in 2021.
i stick with real things, usually facts and figures. when information's in its place i minimize the guessing game. guess what? i don't like guessing games.
you had always been a logical person. opting to plan things out rather than diving right in, so when jean offered to set you up on a blind date, you were hesitant to say yes. you always needed to know when and where things would be going down, and most importantly who would be there with you. this blind date contradicted most, if not all of your morals.
or when i feel things before i know the feelings. how am i supposed to operate when i'm tossed around by fate? like on an unexpected date! with a stranger who might talk too fast. or ask me questions about myself before i've decided that he can ask me questions about myself. he might sit too close! or call the waiter by his first name. or eat oreos but eat the cookie before the cream! but what scares me the most... what scares my the most...
it was clear that you were anxious about this, you were waving your hands around like a maniac, ranting to jean about things that didn't even make sense. "y/n, could you stop moving? i really need to finish up on your hair." jean pleaded, struggling to style your hair. you sighed and slouched in your chair, fiddling your thumbs.
"...what if he hates me?"
what if when he sees me, what if he doesn't like it? what if he runs the other way and i can't hide from it? what happens then? if when he knows me, he's only disappointed? what if i give myself away to only get it given back? i couldn't live with that!
jean turned your chair around so that she could look you in the eyes. "you are a smart and talented girl, y/n. any guy would be lucky to have you. if logan can't see that than he's just stupid." her comment was reassuring. it calmed you down, yes. but you still couldn't stop the nervousness bubbling within you.
"now go get dressed, storm is in the other room picking out an outfit for you." you thanked her and walked out of the bathroom, into your bedroom, where storm was rummaging through a pile of laundry. she smiled and pulled out a blouse for you to wear. she turned towards you and tossed you the shirt.
"the rest is on the bed. i need to go grab one last thing from my room and then you'll be ready to go!" she cheered, excited for you. you had never been much for dating. the few folks you did bring back turned out to be a bunch of douche bags, or had been scared off by some of the other mutants. when jean proposed the idea to the team, they were even more excited than you.
  you pulled off the top you were wearing and threw it in the corner of your room. you took the blouse that ororo gave you and put it on. next you put on the skirt and tucked your shirt into it. storm returned from her room with the item she retrieved. it was a gorgeous necklace with a gold chain and a jewel hanging around it. storm clasped it around your neck. "jean, c'mere!" ororo called for jean to come and see the new and improved you.
  "you look absolutely stunning!" jean praised, her hands on her hips. "let's head on downstairs, we still got some time before we need to get you out the door." jean led the three of you into the kitchen, you starting pacing the room as they sat down at the kitchen island.
  "do i have to do this?" you whined, not at all prepared for what was soon to come.
"there's no point in backing out now! it took me almost an hour to get you ready, you will be going to this date." jean said.                           
"why did i agree to this? i'm perfectly fine here! i'm surrounded with the people i love, i have my dream job... i don't see why i need a new guy in my life. and if life taught me anything, it's that men are garbage." you reasoned, trying to find an excuse not to go.
so i'm just fine inside my shell-shaped mind! this way i get the best view. so that when he sees me, i want him too...
  you were deep in thought, making a list in your head of the pros and cons of going on this date. the truth is, you were actually quite lonely here, and your friends were starting to notice.
   don't you think you're bein' a little, i mean, just a tad-
  ororo started before you cut her off.
  i'm not defensive! i'm simply being cautious. i can't risk reckless dating due to my miscalculating. while a certain suitor stands in line. i've seen in movies, most made for television, you cannot be too careful when it comes to sharing your life. i could end up a miserable wife!
  jean and ororo both gave each other a look. you continued on about how he could be some sort of criminal of psychopath. jean sighed and looked at her watch.
  "y/n, we gotta get going" they got up and ushered you to the car. ororo and jean got in the front seat of ororo's car, and you sat in the back. the entire car ride was filled with you going on and on, with 'what if's' and 'could be's'. there wasn't a single moment where you weren't complaining. jean was starting to think that maybe this wasn't the best idea after all. when you finally arrived at your destination, the three of you got out of the car. they pointed in the direction of the infamous wolverine, pushing you his way. he leaned against his car, lighting a cigar. you walked up to him, a little intimidated.
  "you're logan, yea?" you asked shyly, not really knowing what to do or say.
  "that's me, i'm assuming that makes you y/n." he replied. you nodded awkwardly.
  "shall we head in then?" he asked, looking down at you with raised eyebrows.
"yes, yes we shall." you answered, smiling slightly.
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Text
" Dinner Party "
Part 1
Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Potter!Reader
Masterlist
Summary: The Potters throw a dinner party; Mattheo meets the family}
Wc- 4142
Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Harry is a bit of an arse, cussing, sexual themes cussing, just a bunch of fluff and yearning}
Taglist- @helendeath @2dloveshp @hatakemrs
“Well.” Lily spoke slowly. “Look at us now.” 
Lily looked over at you just in time for you to glance up and meet her eyes. She smiled sweetly before she continued. “I think its sweet.”
The tension in the room was slowly beginning to ease. You couldn't help but feel a bit of hope grab hold of your chest. Your eyes flickered between your mother and your father. James, of course, ever protective, still held a look of drastic offense as Lily spoke up again. “I know you're a smart girl, I raised you myself. I knew your partner would be a sore subject.” 
She reached her hand over and placed it over James’ leg. She smiled at him, a look to try and convey everything running threw her head at once. They are kids. Our angel will be okay.
“Why? Did you.. not trust my judgment?” You asked cautiously, your hands slowly fisting the cloth of your pants. 
Lily quickly shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. Quite the opposite.” She mused and turned to look at James who had closed his eyes and began to even his breaths.
“We used to joke you were perhaps meant to be a Hufflepuff. Darling, you have always seen the best in people, even when others couldn't really see it.” Lily offered and James scoffed. Your mother gave a small grimace before she spoke carefully. “Love is complicated. I can attest to that.” She began, eyeing James as if warning him to challenge her. 
“But love is beautiful. That night, at dinner, was the first time I've ever seen you talk back to us. I was distraught, and I am sorry I reacted the way I did.” She began to fiddle with his pant leg between her fingers. Speaking before you could continue. “It was immature. And if this boy puts so much fire in you, I want to at least meet him.”
Your body stiffened and your eyes widened. Looking between your father and mother as you stammered and tried to stutter out something. “M-meet you guys? We've only been dating a few months now.” You tried to defend.
You loved Mattheo, but he wasn't exactly house trained. He was raised by a house elf and saying the Malfoy’s tried to help raise him would be an exaggeration at the least. He could be polite, charming, he was well mannered when he wanted to be, as he had a smile that could take breaths away. 
But he was also Mattheo Riddle, and the idea of putting him in a room with your father, the other most hotheaded boy you knew, was a terrifying one. Mattheo didn't take kindly to being reminded of his father. It felt cruel to put him in a boxed up room with the very people his parents tried to kill. Not to mention, he got emotional when it came to families. 
You acted like you didn't notice at first, for Merlin's sake you were head over heels for this boy. You would sit in his dorm room, bare to your core and tangled together under the sheets. He would be holding you from behind like you were a vice, telling you about his dreams of a family with love like yours. When you would mention your family, he’d grow tense but stay his stoic self when you would ask. 
It wasn't hard to read him like a book, especially since Mattheo basically read it for you. He had changed a lot in the last few months you'd been with him. You used to fight horribly the first month. He was still so used to his single status, he hadn't really had positive expectations set on him. You explained to him what you wanted, you were patient, then he started to talk and communicate with you more efficiently, copying your behaviors to mimic your maturity. He loved how happy you looked when he improved himself, the praise sick boy wanting any bit you'd give him. When he told you he quit smoking, he let you drown him in praise and kisses, using withdrawal as an excuse for him being more handsy with you.
You soon learned from his friends that he had quit months ago, when you first told him you hated them, the cheek. He didn't even have the sense to look guilty when it came to light, just seemed so damn proud of himself.
In all honesty, it was hard not to adore him. Even when he was being a little arse. You had fallen hard for the loaded gun, and he obeyed you like you were the trigger. That being said.. he was still Mattheo, meeting your parents seemed like a bigger step than when he would drag you under his sheets with a silencing charm. 
“What? Don't want him to meet us?” James spoke up, and you snapped out of your thoughts. He sounded almost hopeful, like you weren't entirely serious about him. You gave him a pout and Lily squeezed his thigh tighter. 
“Do you think it's too soon, lovely?” Your mother asked patiently and you bit your lip. The last thing you wanted to do was lie to your mother. Lying to James was easy, he was a bit of a push over when it came to you, and you never lied about anything truly groundbreaking. But Lily, she had been your best friend for years. She was your mother, your confidant, and she knew more about you than anyone else. Probably helps that she's known you since you were welcomed home.
“... I am just scared.” You admitted and James’s expression shifted to soften. He sat up a bit and Lily gave him a soft smile.
“Why?” Your mother prodded and you curled your knees to your chest. 
“Just.. he's never had this.” You gestured around you. “He can be a bit.. reactive when it comes to stress?” You tried to offer the information carefully and James frowned hard.
“Reactive as in?” He leaned closer and your eyes flashed open wide. 
“No, Merlin, he would never. Not to me.” You tried to defend and the look on your mothers face made you realize what you said.
“That's not- no, I don't mean it like that.” You quickly tried to back track. Lily sent James a smirk. 
James looked at her with a furrowed brow and a slight pout. “What?”
“Just reminds me of how I tried to defend my choice of partner to my parents. Then, to your parents.” Lily laughed and James bit his cheek but smiled to see his wife so happy. You watched the two and your heart throbbed a bit. You loved your parents so much. You wanted that with Mattheo. Were you moving too fast? It was likely. Could this go horribly wrong? Most definitely. 
“Okay.” You spoke up and your parents turned to you “I'll invite him.”
~~~
Mattheo was at the Lestrange manor alone, as usual, but this summer was far different. He usually would busy himself with his friends, going to pointless balls the Malfoy’s insisted he attend, sneaking off with pureblood girls he didn't even remember the names of. Or better, going drinking with his mates from school.
This summer was killing him. The silence of the manor used to bother him before, every footstep sounded like thunder, every breath he made echoed in his ears, but now? Merlin. You came from a loud family, you didn't know the pain of it. When he was with you, the louder things weren't always bad. You always talked a bit louder than him, played music in his dorm with his unused radio, talked to him while you ran your fingers through his hair. It was easy to like the louder things now. He hated quiet.
The silence just reminded him you weren't there. He didn't even remember when his nights spent alone with witches of different backgrounds became nights of desperate yearning for you. Neither of you had said it yet, but even if you were just talking now, he didn't intend to keep it that way. He didn't want anyone else. He couldn't have anyone else. And the idea of you with someone else? He'd rather die.
Theodore Nott had been lettering him to try and get him out of the hell house, but the idea of you lettering him back when he wasn't home ate him up inside. Pansy called him whipped, when he lettered her to ask if he had done something wrong. ‘It’s only been two weeks, let her settle.’ Out of all of his friends, you clicked with her the easiest. It didn't help that he got a bit jealous when you talked to his male friends. He's never cared this much.
He was sure you've had to have hexed him.
Slipped him Amortentia.
Or soaked your entire body in it. 
Maybe it was mixed into that lovely perfume of yours? 
He groaned out and covered his face, leaning back from his desk into his seat. He let his arms go slack at the sides of his chair and looked at the ceiling. He was pathetic, but he wasn't scared of it this time. He liked feeling weak, if it was for you. He bit his bruised bottom lip and turned to look at the window. What would you think of him now? Sitting about with nothing to do but need you. He needed the heavenly haze you gave him. He liked to worship you, like you were all he was beyond his family. 
Two days after he had sent that letter, he was starting to wonder if you had realized your mistake. That being with your family reminded you that Mattheo Riddle was no one. Someone who should remember he was no one. Not worth the time you spared him day to day, that he was just some phase. He didn't know if he could recover from you. He might just throw the towel in if you didn't want him. Who could recover from a love like a prayer? A love that made him think of you like it was a threat. You were a threat. To his sanity. To his reputation. To his status. 
And he was a threat to you. Obsession, he had to agree with Draco. You are an obsession.
His thoughts were thrown out when he noticed something coming into view through his window. He nearly knocked his chair over as he stumbled over to open it. The Potter’s Owl.
~~~
“You're invited to the Potter’s Residence for our first dinner party of the year,”
Mattheo thumbed over the invitation in hand. He was shocked when he first read it, not only did he never expect to be invited to the Potter’s, he definitely didn’t ever expect you to tell your parents enough about him to be invited. He was excited, thumbing the invitation over and over.
He had groomed himself properly, he was in a button up shirt and a green vest, his hair was almost tamed. He was holding the invitation, raising his knuckle to knock on the door.
You snapped to attention from where you were looking in the mirror. You were wearing a deep forest green dress, the one you knew Mattheo loved, and your dad seemed to take that as a personal offense, dressed in his red dress shirt that matched your mothers dress.
“I still don't like this.” Sirius grumbled from his seat on the couch, and Remus rolled his eyes from where he leaned in the doorway. “A bit late, darling.” He mumbled as he watched you walk down the hall to open the door.
Lily requested Harry and James set up the table, leaving just you and her in the immediate room.
You took a deep breath, looking at your mom before she nodded and you turned back. Opening the door you were a bit startled to see Mattheo so put together, you had to remember that he was raised as pureblood royalty, you just never figured you'd see him so done up. You bit your lip a bit and he chuckled at this, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly stepped aside and he walked in, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his form, not having noticed Lily yet. 
“I missed you, beautiful.” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss you. The second his lips touched yours, you sighed. Like he unwove every bit of your tense frame with just his touch. You couldn't remember a thing, not why you were so worried, where you were, and how your mother was watching you. For ten whole seconds, with just his soft careful kiss, he had made you dumb. He took a sharp breath and sighed after you, stepping closer.
Lily noticed the signs as it got a bit deeper than just a greeting kiss, and she quickly cleared her throat. You quickly pulled away in a fluster, and Mattheo just followed your lips to give you another quick peck, before he pulled back and gave Lily his dazzling look. “Mrs. Potter, right?” He mused and you had to catch a whine in your throat when he stepped back. He held his hand out and Lily moved to shake it, but instead he took her palm and kissed the back of her wrist. “You have a lovely home, ma'am. I can't say I'm surprised, {Y/N} had taken on your style.” He mused and Lily smirked at him.
“So you've been to my daughter’s dorm, hm?” She asked cheekily and his eyes widened and his face dropped. Like a guilty puppy. “I-”
Lily laughed and waved her hand. “Please, don't feel the need to explain. I'm only joking.”
Mattheo blinked a few times and slowly smiled. You and Lily were a lot alike. It looked like he had an ally already. He let go of her hand and stood up straighter. Waving his hand a bundle of Orchids appeared and he offered them to her. “Well, thank you for welcoming me.”
Your heart swelled at the interaction. Maybe tonight wouldn't be horrible. 
“Riddle, hm?” 
Well, it was fun while it lasted.
Sirius stood in the doorway of the parlor room, staring down at Matheo with a harsh glare. Mattheo met his gaze with his usual dissociative state. “Sirius Black, sir? It's nice to meet you.” He mused and offered him his hand. Sirius looked down at his hand then back to Mattheo. Riddle sighed and moved his hand down to his side, a bit startled when you walked up and took it for yourself. 
He smiled at you like a love sick fool, and Sirius felt his lip twitch at the look.
Remus seemed to see it too, ever the helpless romantic, he bit his cheek. Trying to hide a smile. 
Now, Remus despised the idea of you bringing a Riddle into the family. He hated the idea you would possibly, one day carry the last name of the monster that was Tom Riddle. But those thoughts left his head when he saw how you rested your head on his shoulder, your fingers playing with his, like a practiced art, knowing exactly how to soften the blow of rejection from your uncle.
Suddenly, Mattheo was giving that bright smile again, and you felt a bit cocky to be the one to give it to him. Pressing your lips to his shoulder and you peaked over it but just stared at his profile.
“Nice to meet you, again.” Remus mused, offering his hand and Mattheo’s smile only grew, taking his hand and shaking it firm. “Thank you, Professor.”
He shook his head. “Remus is fine.”
Sirius gawked at him in full offense, having lost himself to the boy's charm. 
Before Sirius could make a snappy comment, Lily spoke up. “Well, I'm sure you're hungry, let's go get you fed, hm?”
“Yes ma'am.” Mattheo responded in kind, before glancing down at you by his shoulder and wetting his lips. Leaning down to steal another kiss, Sirius scoffed as he passed you two to get to the table. Remus followed behind him, as Lily waved the two to their seats. 
“Not much for a dinner party, hm?” He mumbled to you and you gave a small laugh. 
“Not all of us are as extravagant as your family.” You teased and he gave a wolfish smirk. “I think you forget, your father is James Potter, famous for his parties if I remember.” He teased and you rolled your eyes before biting your lip. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Not to mention, even if he seems to hate me, Sirius is my family.”
You narrowed your eyes before your eyebrows jumped upward as you pieced together his family tree. Right. His mother was Sirius’s cousin. It suddenly sunk into you just why Sirius seemed to be taking this so seriously. Mattheo was a mix of the two things he hated most, his family and Voldemort. Must be hard to believe anything good could come from those two things.
You shoved the thought away. He could get over himself. You weren't going to throw away everything you and Mattheo were because Sirius couldn't get over his bias. Your father too.
Once you and Mattheo walked into the dining room, it seemed to be going well. There wasn't much conversation between Mattheo and your family, you found yourself talking to each other. Updates on your lives, him whispering how much he missed you, taking every opportunity to drown you in his affections. You were a flustered mess, but smiling the brightest you've had in days. It was like an addiction, his attention. 
You didn't notice Lily's attention on you two, too wrapped up in Riddle. He was the same, looking at you like you were the last person in the world, like you were worth falling for. He sure hoped so, because he was approaching the ground rapidly as your eyes danced his features. It reminded her of something, turning to look at James and was met with the same look as he tried to start up another Quidditch conversation with her. She simply rolled her eyes fondly. How could he not see what was happening?
“So.” Lily spoke up after her conversation with James flickered out. She spoke in a tone that demanded attention. “How did you two meet? When did this start?” She offered and Mattheo bit his cheek and looked at you, for the hundredth time that night. You smiled and looked back at your mom.
“Well, Professor McGonagall asked me to help a student study during lunch periods. I had no clue who it was but I figured it couldn't hurt.” You mused, conveniently not bringing up the bribe. “Then it kind of.. changed. Eventually it just became casual study dates. Like one, I was teaching him how to summon a patronus and-” You lit up as bright as a star as you began your story, before Harry scoffed. Your face fell a bit and you looked over at Harry with a furrowed brow.
Mattheo had to resist the urge to snap at him for taking away such a view.
He looked up at you with a glare. “I've just never met a Death Eater who could use a patronus is all.”
There was a thick silence that filled the room as your jaw went slack. You tried to figure out a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, mouth growing dry.
Lily tried to speak up but Mattheo beat her to it. “Sorry to disappoint, still haven't it seems.” He cheeked and you looked back at him with a laugh. Your mother gave Harry a look that certainly meant danger for him later. Harry didn't even seem to care, just scoffed.
“He summoned a Fox.” You informed your mother and her mouth fell open a bit, her smile brightening. 
“Is that true?” He prodded Mattheo and he nodded. “Yes ma'am.”
Lily looked at James with raised eyebrows, amused, and he shook his head before clicking his tongue. “So. Heard you were in the Quidditch team, what position?” James finally and reluctantly joined the conversation. 
“Beater, sir.” Mattheo mused and smirked, eyeing Harry from the corner of his eye. “Seems someone still miffed over the bludger he took a few weeks ago.”
“Your team cheated.” Harry challenged quickly and Mattheo gave him a wolfish smirk. “Did we? Or is that the only way you'd accept that we got the cup?”
“Watch it, Riddle. I'll make a fool of you next season.” Harry quipped and it actually sounded almost playful. You gave a scoff and Mattheo chuckled. Figures they'd bond over Quidditch of all things.
“Really? A beater?” James spoke up and Mattheo looked over to him with a nod. 
“Sirius was a beater too, we were a fierce team.” James mused and leaned forward. “We created this move…”
Their voices faded out, and you smiled at the scene. It was cordial, almost friendly, as the men at the table talked about the sport with enthusiasm. Well, all safe for Remus who started talking to your mother about a new book recommendation. You just watched how Mattheo seemed to fall into place in your family so easily, and how happy he seemed about it. 
Way too soon, the night was over, and Mattheo was leaving. You and your parents walked him to the door, and he turned to face you.
“Thank you again, Mrs. Potter, the food was amazing. And Mr. Potter, thank you for allowing me to come over.” He mused and your mom shook her head. “Please, anytime sweetheart. Call me Lily.” 
Then, much to your surprise. “Call me James.” Your father mused and took his hand into a firm shake.
Mattheo had this startled look on his face, thrown for a loop before he quickly recovered. “Y-yes sir. I mean James, yes James.”
You giggled and before Mattheo could be given any more surprises, you walked up and hugged his arm. “I'll walk him out of the apparition wards.”
“Don't be gone too long-” James began before Lily covered his mouth and shooed you both off. “Go! We'll be here.” She reassured you.
You pulled Mattheo out the door, leaving Lily to smirk up at James and he groaned. “Okay, the kid isn't that bad.”
“You too!?” Sirius shouted from across the house and Lily laughed. 
~~~
You walked with Mattheo, managed to get just a few yards from the house before his lips were on yours. He had stopped completely, wrapping his arms around your waist and almost toppled you over when he leaned over your frame so easily. You let your hands slide up to his biceps and he gave a low groan, pulling away before he got too far. 
You took a sharp puff of air and steadied your breathing. Your eyes met his deep dark ones. He was looking at you with something so familiar and yet it was hungrier than you'd ever seen before. “Mattheo-”
“Tonight was amazing.” He whispered and took your lips again. This time, you actually managed to prepare yourself. Your hands slipped behind his neck and into his gelled hair. Pouting into the kiss and he smirked. “What?”
“Your hair. I hate it like this.” You mumbled into his lips, not wanting to break the kiss. Mattheo laughed and pulled his wand from his pocket, waving it to return his hair to his naturally fluffy glory. 
“That better?” He teased, giving a toothy smirk as he watched you lick your lips clean of him. 
“Much.” This time, you started the kiss, earning a low yelp from him. He chuckled and pushed you against the wall of your fathers property. Hands roaming lower, as you tilted your head back, his new target being your neck.
“You’ve been driving me mad all night, ya know that?” He breathed against your collarbone, fingers fiddling with the end of your dress. “Had to look your father in the eye tonight, and you still wore this? All I could think of was the last time you wore it.” 
You gave a low gasp when his fingers lipped just under the small skirt. “M-Mattheo-”
“I've missed you, beautiful. The last two weeks were torture, you know that? Know what you do to me?” He mumbled against your skin. Your eyes grew hazy the more he spoke. Like he was controlling you with his words. Suddenly, his head snapped up and he looked just past you. 
“Huh. Do you guys have a dog?” He asked and you snapped out of your trance when you heard a loud roar from behind you. “And.. a stag? You have dogs and deer on your property?” He asked and you simply covered your face and gave a loud groan.
“Dad!!”
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rangerbarbz · 1 month
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Serving Up Romance pt. 2
Author’s Note: Alright, y’all were eating up the first part of this. (THANK YOU SO MUCH BTW) I am so grateful for all the kind words you’ve given me about my writing. It truly makes me so happy and I enjoy writing for y’all thoroughly. I hope you enjoy this second part! 
You took a deep breath and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was time for your date with Stan, and you were more than just a little nervous. It had been so long since you had been on a date, you weren’t even sure if you knew what to do on one. Do you hold his hand? Do you kiss him? Things were different when you were at the diner. That was your safe space, and you felt more confident there. Now, it was just going to be you and him alone in a car. At night. Watching a movie. Oh, God. 
You sighed and straightened out the fabric of your second-hand dress, removing any wrinkles that were there before. “I hope he likes it,” you mumbled, running your hands through your hair. This was the first time he was going to see you out of your uniform. You sat on the edge of your bed to slip on the sandals you had dug out of your closet. He was going to be here soon. 
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. You sprung up from the bed to put on some perfume. “I’m coming!” you called out, dousing yourself in a vanilla scent you couldn’t remember the name of. You set the perfume bottle down on your nightstand and ran to the door. 
“You got this,” you whispered to yourself, turning the door knob to reveal your date standing on your welcome mat. He was facing the road but turned around when the door opened. He was wearing a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt, blue jeans, and scuffed up leather boots. His mullet was nicely styled, and he had trimmed his stubble. He flashed you a toothy smile. 
“Wow, you look foxy!” Stan complimented you, raking his eyes over you. You grinned and gave him a twirl to show off how flowy your skirt was. “Oh, I got you these by the way.” He held out a red, heart-shaped box to you. “I heard that girls like chocolates, so I wanted to surprise you with some.”
You giggled. “This girl definitely does,” you said, placing the box on the armchair of your couch. “Thank you so much.” You tilted your head at him, feeling your smile wouldn’t leave your face the entire evening. “You look so handsome, Stan Pines.” You hooked your arm around his. “I’m one lucky gal.” 
Stan laughed and you noticed a blush forming on his cheeks. “Ah, well, shucks. Thanks, toots.” He looked over at you. “But I think I’m the lucky one here. You ready to go?” 
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
On the car ride to the drive-in theater, Stan told you about a visitor that he described as a “total nutcase.” You always enjoyed hearing him tell stories because he told every story in a way that made you feel like you were seeing the events play out right in front of your eyes. He was captivating; it was no wonder he was such a successful showman. You were so engrossed in his retelling that you didn’t notice how his arm was behind the headrest of your seat. It was such a small romantic gesture, but it made butterflies grow in your stomach all the same
You finally arrived at the entrance of the drive-in movie theater; Stan rolled down his window to pay the man at the ticket booth. “Alright, sir, park wherever you like, and turn your radio to channel 95.1. Enjoy the movie!” 
“Thanks,” Stan replied before driving into the lot. He leaned against his steering wheel, searching for a parking spot. “Damn, there’s a lot more people here than I expected.” He looked over at you with a frown. “I’m sorry, doll. I think we’ll just have to park the Diablo here. I can’t get around anyone. Is this okay?” He was hoping he hadn’t ruined the date. 
You gave him a reassuring smile. “This is okay. I promise.”
He nodded. “Alright, so that joker said 95.1.” He began fiddling with the knob of his radio to switch stations. “Bingo,” he said after he finally got it tuned correctly. “Now, this is a horror movie, so if you need to, ya know, jump into my arms if it gets too scary, I’ll be ready to catch ya.” 
You burst out laughing. “Same goes to you, Pines. I know how skittish you can be.”
Stan scoffed in response. “Please, I’m the least skittish person on the planet.” 
“THE FRIGHTENING OF OAK AVENUE WILL BEGIN NOW,” the radio blared. Stan jumped out of his skin, letting the expletives fly.
You smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, that doesn’t count,” he grumbled.
“That’s okay,” you scooted closer to him. “It doesn’t bother me that you’re such a scaredy cat.” Stan shook his head and wrapped his arm over your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. Oh my goodness. His arm is around you, and he smells really good. Try not to let him see how excited you are.
“Okay, that’s enough sass-mouthing, miss,” he joked. “The movie’s starting.” You giggled as your attention was brought to the screen. To be honest, you could give two shits about this movie. You couldn’t stop thinking about how comforting it was to have his arm around you. 
You didn’t know how far you were into the movie when you saw Stan out of the corner of your eye gazing at you instead of the film. You turned your head towards him, and his eyes quickly reverted back to the screen. You felt your face get warm as you continued watching the movie, but you had failed to suppress a small chuckle. 
“What?” Stan asked gruffly. 
“Nothing,” you replied coyly, leaning your head against his chest. You heard his breath hitch in his throat. “You just make me feel pretty.”
You couldn’t see his face which Stan was grateful for because he was looking like a deer in headlights. You could feel how fast his heart was beating. “You are pretty,” he responded, voice barely above a whisper. “Told ya that the first day I met you. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
You straightened up so you could face him when you said this. “Stan, I…I have seen a lot of people walk through those diner doors.” Your nerves were starting to get the best of you. “But I have never had anyone come into that restaurant that made me feel the way you do.” You looked down and began to run your fingertips over the hem of your dress. “I just want to know if you feel the same.” 
“I-I do, Y/N,” Stan replied, stopping your hand from fidgeting by lacing his fingers through yours. “Felt that since the beginning.” He sighed. “Y/N, I know I’m not the type of guy you bring home to your parents, but… If you give me the chance, I know I can be a man you’re proud to be with.” You felt like you were about to cry.
“Oh, Stan.” You cup his face in your hands. His sad, brown eyes gazed into yours; he leaned into your touch as you caressed his cheek. “If you’ll have me, I’ll scream from the top of city hall that I’m dating Stan Pines.” 
He gave you a lopsided smile before kissing the palm of your hand; his hand was gently holding your wrist. Is this real? His face was inching towards yours. “I’m holding you to that.” His hands were now cradling your jaw, bringing your lips to his. They were soft and sure against yours; your eyelids fluttered shut as you accepted his embrace. You placed your hands on his chest and snaked them around his neck, his dark hair falling onto your fingers. His lips were gone too soon as he interrupted the kiss to look at you. His eyes darted over your face, making sure you were still here and okay. It seemed like everything he touched lately disappeared before his eyes. 
He began to shake his head in disbelief. “God, you’re gorgeous.” His lips then crashed back into yours, drinking you in. He loved the way your mouth felt. He then moaned so quietly that you barely heard it yourself, but you did. You smiled against him, fingers tugging at his hair; you licked his bottom lip wanting to taste him on your tongue. His lips then parted letting you explore further. 
Stan whined at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his. His hands moving to the back of your neck and the small of your back to get you as close to him as possible. When you broke free of the kiss, his lips began to travel down your jawline and your neck. He was insatiable; he needed to discover every part of you with his mouth. 
“Fuck,” you breathed when he got to your collarbone. “Don’t stop.” His strong hand grasped at your waist; he now knew you were just as affected by this as he was. He started to suck a bruise into the dip at the crook of your neck. You cried out, desperately grabbing at his shoulder blades. 
When Stan was satisfied with the mark he left, he gave it a soft kiss. His eyes met yours once again. His lips were slightly swollen and shiny from the lip gloss you had applied earlier today. His cheeks were flushed from the intensity of the passionate moment you had shared. He then smiled and leaned in to speak against your lips. “So, what do you think about ditching this movie and heading back to your place?” 
You closed the almost non-existent gap by biting his bottom lip and dragging it through your teeth. Stan let out a sinful groan at the contact before you let him go. “I thought you’d never ask.” 
PART 3 DROPPING SOON  
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parkerslatte · 13 days
Text
Beauty
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For @erisweekofficial Day 6: AU
Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader (Regency AU)
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: sexism. mentions of illness.
Summary: Throughout their whole childhood, Y/N and Eris grew up with one another, always seeing one another from across the park that separated their houses. However as time goes on, Eris begins to distance himself and Y/N cannot work out why. After an unfortunate incident at a ball, Eris goes to check on Y/N and some truths come to light.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
Nineteen Years Ago
Two eight year olds lay in a shadowed part of a garden, their parents involved in boring adult chatter inside the house. The sun was beginning to set and while the children should be getting ready for a bath and bed, they were giggling happily, clothes stained with mun and pond water. 
“You liar!” Little eight year old Y/N exclaimed. 
“I’m not lying!” Eris Vanserra replied, nudging Y/N’s arm. 
“Yes you are!” Y/N said, crossing her arms over her chest. “And for that I’m telling your mother. My mother told me to never lie.”
“But I’m not lying, Y/N,” Eris pleaded. 
Y/N giggled. “But you said you wanted to marry me?”
“I do,” Eris said. “You are my best friend.”
“Do people marry their best friend?” Y/N asked.
Eris shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“If that is how it works then I will marry you,” Y/N said with a wide smile on her face, one of her front teeth missing. “People will be jealous because we will have the most fun at our wedding.”
Eris smiled. “It will be better than anyone elses. My dogs can be a part of it!”
Y/N gasped. “I wish we could get married now and make everyone jealous! It will be so much fun.”
Rain began to fall down upon the pair and Y/N giggled as the cold water hit her face. Eris stood to his feet and looked in the direction of the house. 
“I think our parents forgot about us,” Eris said. 
“Should we go and tell them about our wedding?” Y/N asked. “Or do you want to play out here more?”
Eris smiled and quickly nudged Y/N and ran away, laughing loudly. Y/N giggled and stood from the wet grass and chased after him, rain falling down around her. 
Present Day. 
The mirror before her presented an image she was used to. A plain girl with all hope and wonder gone from her eyes. At twenty seven years, Y/N is what many others would consider a spinster. She was not married, nor did she have any prospects. Being a spinster wasn’t what Y/N originally wanted for herself, she would always dream of her very own romance story from a very young age. A whole stack of paper was buried deep within her wardrobe detailing her dream life and wedding day. Y/N couldn’t bear to look at it any longer. 
“Are you ready to go?” her mother asked, coming into the room. 
Y/N let out a small sigh. “Do I really need to go to this ball? I already know it is going to turn out like any other.”
Her mother fiddled with the ends of her hair already falling out of its updo. “Y/N, we have spoken about this. You need to find a husband soon–”
“Mother, the men at these balls are not any different from the men last season. I know I am not on anyone’s mind in terms of marriage. I am ancient in their eyes,” said Y/N, straightening out her gown. 
“Perhaps this time will be different,” her mother suggested.
“We both know it won’t be,” Y/N said sadly. “You should just marry me off to Lord Ashington. I overheard him talking about me at the last ball.”
“Lord Ashington is ancient,” her mother said. “Y/N, I know I push you to marry but I don’t wish for you to end up in a marriage you are unhappy in. I want you to have a whirlwind romance I had with your father.”
“As much as I wanted that too mother, I think it is now time to look at the reality of my situation,” Y/N said. “I am no longer desirable in any man’s eye as I am not new and fresh to the marriage mart. I must settle for the first man with money to look my way. Lord Ashington is the route to go if I want to secure money to provide for you.”
Y/N fought the sting of tears, she turned her face away from her mother so she wouldn’t see but her attempts were futile. 
“Oh, my baby,” her mother said, wrapping her arms around Y/N. “This isn’t the life I wished for you.”
Y/N continued to cry against her mothers shoulder. If only Y/N could stay home then everything would be better. 
“I have a gift for you,” her mother said as she wiped Y/N’s tears away. “It was meant to be for your birthday but I can give it to you now.”
Her mother disappeared from the room for a minute before returning with a dress draped in white fabric. The moment the dress was unveiled, Y/N gasped at its sheer beauty. 
“I have been putting aside money to get it made for you,” her mother said. “I hope you like it.”
Y/N gently touched the fabric. “I love it.”
“If you wish to wear it tonight, I suppose I will allow it,” her mother said. 
Y/N wrapped her arms around her mother. “Thank you.”
***
By the time Y/N made it to the drinks table, her feet were aching and she was read to sleep, but even that couldn’t keep the smile from her face. The moment she had stepped into the ballroom, she had gathered more attention than she had in years. Y/N was sure she hadn’t danced this much since her first year in society. She forgot how much she enjoyed it. 
“I see you have made a few heads turn tonight,” a voice Y/N never thought she would hear again spoke. 
As she turned to face the source of the voice, Y/N felt a tightness in her chest. “What do you want?”
“A dance,” Eris answered. “With you.”
Y/N fought the urge to scoff. It had been years since she had exchanged words with Eris, and even longer since they had had a full conversation. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed the silky smooth tone of his voice. 
“My dance card is full,” Y/N answered. 
“I can see one space available,” Eris pointed out. “Y/N, please. Just one dance.”
Y/N sighed. “What do you want, Eris?”
“I am only asking for a dance,” Eris answered.
“No. What I meant was, why are you speaking to me? You’re the one who has gone out of your way to avoid me.”
Before Eris had the chance to even open his mouth, a handsome gentleman offered Y/N his hand. “May I have this dance?”
Y/N sent one final look towards Eris before placing her hand in the man’s. “You may.”
As Y/N made her way into the centre of the ballroom, she watched as Eris’s grip on his glass tightened and he looked away. Y/N turned her attention back to the man in front of her and plastered a bright smile on her face. Although for the whole duration of the dance, she couldn’t get the image of Eris out of her mind. 
***
“Y/N, it seems like you haven’t had a moment to yourself all night,” Iris, a woman a few years younger than Y/N, said. “All that dancing with so many suitors must have tired you out?”
Y/N nodded. “I suppose it did. I am quite sure I haven’t danced this much in years.”
“I wonder why,” another woman, Evangeline, said thoughtfully and shared a look with Iris. 
“Tonight you seemed to catch the eye of every single available suitor here,” Iris continued. “You could have left some for the rest of us.”
Y/N chuckled, although she was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable. “I have seen all of you on the dance floor. All of you are no shot of suitors yourself.”
“But none of us have caught the eye of Eris Vanserra,” Evangeline commented. “And you turned him down.”
Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t turn him down–”
“But I overheard you,” Evangeline siad, a wicked smirk appearing on her face. “He was so eager to dance and you turned him down only to run into the arms of the next man who spoke to you.”
“Eris and I have a…complicated past, I didn’t want to bring up past memories that are best left forgotten,” Y/N explained. 
Evangeline took a sip from her drink. “It must have been your dress.”
“My dress?” Y/N asked, confusion evident on her face. 
“I mean, how else would you capture Eris’s attention?” Evangeline said and Iris tried to hide her laugh. “Your hair is clearly not doing you any favours, it has already come away from its hairstyle. And you could have done something about those dark circles under your eyes.”
“What are you doing?” Y/N asked.
“I am just confused as to how a spinster has captured the attention of half of the ton. Your dress might be beautiful from far away but anyone with eyes can see how it is cheaply made,” Evangeline said. “Oh look, there is even a loose thread right here…”
Before Y/N could stop her, Evangeline pulled on the single loose thread and the lace decorating the edge of her bust fell away. Y/N gasped and dropped her drink, causing the class to shatter onto the floor. Everyone around the group looked her way. 
As Evangeline and Iris laughed, all Y/N could do was stand there. The burning from each and every eye on her was insufferable. Y/N held her hand to where the lace was falling away and fled the ballroom, quickly finding a small sitting room not too far away. The instruments from the ballroom were dull and barely audible as Y/N slumped down on the ornate settee and wiped the tears that had begun to fall. 
She wasn’t crying because of the embarrassment caused by Evangeline and Iris. Y/N was crying because of the runed dress. She hadn’t asked what her mother had paid for it and now it was ruined. Her mother rarely ever bought anything for herself for these past few months and now Y/N knew the reason why. Now that reason was ruined. 
The door to the sitting room opened and Y/N hastily stood up. 
“I am sorry for being in here, I can leave–Eris?” Eris stood in the doorway of the room, looking at Y/N with concern in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if you are alright,” Eris said. “Clearly you are not.”
“It’s nothing,” Y/N said. “Something silly.”
Eris’s eyes softened. “I guarantee it is not silly to garner this reaction from you. I know the girl I grew up with would rarely cry at anything.”
“I suppose I have quite a lot to cry about these days,” Y/N said. “I am no longer the girl you once knew Eris. You would have known that if you cared for me anymore.”
“Of course I care,” Eris said, stepping further into the room. 
Y/N scoffed. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
Slowly, Eris closed the door behind him. Y/N’s eyes widened. 
“What are you doing? If I am seen alone with you, do you know how it will ruin me?” Y/N exclaimed.
“Then I will say that you were quite ill and I found you passed out in the hallway on my way out and found you somewhere to rest your head and then I will swiftly take my leave when I know that you are in safe hands,” Eris said. 
“Why did you follow me, Eris? We haven’t spoken in years,” Y/N said, completely defeated as she sat down on the settee.
“I know,” Eris said, sadness lacing his tone. “And that will be one of the biggest regrets of my life.” 
Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye and Eris walked over to her and sat next to her. The settee was small enough that Y/N could feel the heat of Eris through his jacket. If she had still been Seventeen and so desperately in love, she would have inched closer. Alas, she was no longer Seventeen and she had larger things on her mind than a simple touch that still sent her senses into overdrive. 
The two sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the ballroom muffled. The tears Y/N had shed were now dried up and she was sure her eyes were now bloodshot and pink. She fiddled with the lace in her hands, more of it had come away from the bodice and the more it came away the more her heart sank. 
“You look beautiful tonight,” Eris said quietly. “I haven’t told you that yet.”
“I am sure you mean ‘looked’,” Y/N said. “I don’t feel beautiful right now.”
“You are,” Eris said with such a tenderness in his tone that it caused Y/N’s heart to skip a beat. “You always are.”
Y/N finally met Eris’s gaze and she felt herself melting. His gaze always had the power to do that. “What is bringing this on?”
“Does there need to be a reason?” Eris said. 
“Yes, because you have avoided me for years. You cannot simply talk to me out of nowhere and call me beautiful when the last time I tried to speak to you, you walked away from me and left me alone in the middle of the ballroom,” Y/N said. 
Eris looked at his lap almost shamefully. “I regret that, Y/N. I truly do. I wanted– want– nothing more than to speak with you, dance around ballrooms with you, talk with you until the dead of night.”
“What changed?” Y/N dared to ask. “Everything was going well, Eris. Even my mother thought we would end up engaged before I made my debut.”
Eris sighed. “Do you remember when your father passed away?”
Y/N nodded. She remembered that day vividly. Her mother was distraught and could barely keep herself together. Y/N depended on the maids to help her with her studies and making sure that her mother was okay. When Eris learned of the news, he moved into Y/N’s house for nearly three months. His father never gave his permission but Eris would defy any order his father gave him to help Y/N. 
“Well after he passed, my father noticed your mother taking money from your dowry to pay the maids and staff. He only noticed this change as your mother came to him for help once as your father always did all the finances. Once he noticed the low sum in your dowry, he didn’t want me anywhere near you incase your mother thought of the idea to marry you off to me to claim money from the Vanserra’s,” Eris explained. 
Y/N shuffled away. “The reason you avoided me was all because I was a burden to you.”
“Not at all,” Eris said quickly, inching his hand closer to her. “Please let me finish.”
There was no deceit on his face, he seemed truthful. Slowly, Y/N nodded.
“When he told me to stay away, I told him to stay out of my business, although not as kind as that.”
Y/N couldn't help herself but let out a quiet laugh. A small smile appeared on Eris’s face. 
“Anyway, after that I continued to see you and came by your house almost every single day after that,” Eris said. “You were my best friend, someone who I love dearly. I could not simply stay away from you. It was torture.”
“Then why did you avoid me after that night you came to me?” Y/N said. 
Thinking back to the night of her seventeenth birthday, Y/N always looked back on it with fondness but as time went on it became more and more painful. Did she do something wrong? Was she not what Eris wanted? Was she undesirable?
“You knew how my life could have been ruined if anyone found out what we did, Eris,” Y/N said. “I allowed you to kiss me. I allowed you to take me to bed.”
“I know and I wish I could go back in time and propose to you right there and then,” Eris admitted. “I was ready to as well. My mother gave me her engagement ring.”
Her heart sank to her feet. “What?”
“That night I was going to propose to you, Y/N,” Eris said. “I didn’t care that you hadn’t made your debut yet. I didn’t care that my father was so obsessed with even more money. I didn’t care about any of that because all I could care about was how much I loved you.”
“Then why didn’t you propose?” Y/N asked. 
“The weekend of your birthday, my father was out of town on business and it was only my mother and brothers in the house. All of my brothers were all too young to really care about what I was doing and my mother was glad to be rid of my father for a while and she went to visit an old friend. But that night I brought you into my bed, my father came home early. Since it was just my mother and brothers, we didn’t close the door properly, he saw the both of us,” Eris said, his hand anxiously twitching in his lap. 
Y/N’s eyes widened. “He saw us? Why did you never tell me?”
Eris shrugged. “I couldn’t. He made me promise that if I didn’t propose to you and abandoned my entire friendship with you then he would keep what he saw to himself. If I didn’t then he would tell the ton and you and your mother would have been ruined.”
“I fought of course,” Eris said. “I said that if he released that information, I would marry you on the spot and tell everyone that we had been engaged since before your birthday. I would have needed to make up a date but the plan would have worked. But my father made another threat. If I followed through with that plan then he would cut me off. I would be penniless and kicked out onto the streets. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t drag you down with me.”
“Eris,” Y/N said. “Why did you never tell me any of this?” 
“I was afraid of my father finding out,” Eris said. “I never wanted you at the centre of any negative gossip.”
“We might have been only seventeen, Eris, but I would have happily lived on the streets with you than live the nightmare of trying to find a husband,” Y/N said.
“But I wouldn’t have wanted that life for you, Y/N,” Eris said. “I wanted to be able to provide for you and make sure you have all the luxuries you deserved.”’
Y/N gently placed her hand on top of Eris’s. “All I wanted was you. I didn’t care about wealth or social status, not when I was around you.”
Eris squeezed her hand. “I always knew you would say that. But I could not let that happen. When I imagined my life with you, I always imagined living in a large house in the countryside. I imagined being able to provide for you, treating you to extravagant dresses that I knew you would ruin when you gardened. I imagined children running around that would look exactly like you. They would grow up in a loving home, safe and secure.” 
Eris paused. “I still imagine all of that to this day. There are some days that I ponder the life I would be having right now if my father never saw us that night and I went through with my proposal. I think of the children we might have. I think of the home we would be living in. I think of how much happier I would be with you by my side.”
“You still think about us?” Y/N asked.
Eris nodded. “Constantly. Lately I have avoided going to balls because I know I would see you and my restraint lately is wearing quite thin.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” Y/N asked. “If your father finds out that you are alone with me, won’t he follow through on his promise?”
“I am here alone tonight,” Eris said. “My mother has kept this gossip from spreading all around the ton, but my father is quite ill. Doctors say that he might not make it to the end of the season.”
There was no emotion on Eris’s face as he spoke. She couldn’t decipher how he felt about the matter. 
“And how do you…feel about this news?” Y/N asked carefully.
“Honestly?” Eris asked. Y/N nodded. “Honestly I feel relieved. I know I shouldn’t because he is my father but he has always felt like a stranger to me. Even when I was a child he never took any interest in me and the only time he did was to make sure I was fit to run the household in the future. Is that an awful thing to say?”
Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I remember how your father was, he was never kind nor welcoming.”
Eris sighed. “I am sorry, Y/N. I came in here to comfort you and instead I have turned this whole ordeal about me.”
Y/N offered him a small smile. “Well, it was relevant information.”
Eris chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it was. Now, if you wish to be left alone, I perfectly understand and I shall leave you alone in peace.”
There was one question still swirling around Y/N’s head. One question she had wanted answered for many years. 
“Did you still love me?” Y/N asked. 
Eris looked confused for a moment. There was a long pause before he answered. 
“Of course I do,” Eris said. “Were you even listening to my confession that I still think of the life we would have had together?”
Y/N laughed and nudged Eris. “Of course I was. I wanted to hear you say it.”
“Do you wish to hear it again?” Eris asked. “Because I will happily comply.”
Y/N nodded and Eris stood from his seat and bent down on one knee. “Y/N L/N. I love you.”
“Eris, what are you doing?” Y/N asked. 
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” Eris answered. “I know that we still have a lot to talk about. I know that there are still things to work through. But I love you Y/N and I cannot live without you in my life any longer. Tonight has been torture, watching other men dance with you and make you smile and laugh, I wished I was in their place. But unlike those men, I know how to make you really smile and laugh. I know your deepest fears and greatest ambitions. I know how you like your tea. I know how you got that small scar on your bicep. I know exactly how you like to be kissed.”
Y/N felt a blush creep up her cheeks. 
“I know more about you than those suitors ever will. What I am asking you Y/N L/N, is if you will marry me?”
On the surface, Y/N knew she shouldn’t accept this proposal. For years, Y/N had been left believing that she wasn’t good enough for Eris, that she wasn’t good enough for anyone. But something deep within her only wanted him, she always had ever since she knew what love really was. Even in the times when Eris avoided her, she sometimes thought back to their friendship and stolen kisses. She thought about how much she missed him. 
“You don’t need to accept. I can leave this room and we can pretend like I never proposed,” Eris reassured.
Y/N wasn’t sure what to say but the words that came out of her mouth were not what she was expecting.
“Technically we are already engaged,” Y/N blurted out. 
“What?” Eris said, looking confused.
“You proposed to me when we were eight,” Y/N said. “We were going to have a wedding everyone would be jealous of.”
Eris’s eyes brighten in recognition. “I remember that. I was only a child but I didn’t even fully understand the concept of marriage. But I knew that I always wanted you to be with me.”
Y/N smiled. “I have a stack of paper hidden in my wardrobe detailing every part of the wedding I would have had with you.”
Eris laughed. “Perhaps we can put those plans to use after all.”
Something within Y/N knew that the next words to come out of her mouth were the right words and the words that would change her life for the better. 
“I think we need to rework some of the plans but overall, I think they could work,” Y/N answered.
A small look of uncertainty flashed across Eris’s face. “Are you accepting my proposal, Y/N?”
“Yes I am,” Y/N said. “I will marry you Eris. We still have things to discuss but we can do that another night. Tonight, let us celebrate.”
A long sigh of relief left Eris as the weight of the world seemed to be lifted. “I believe that is a good idea.”
Y/N stood to her feet while Eris remained kneeled before her. Y/N gently touched his chin, tilting his head. He was so beautiful. 
“I don’t have a ring,” he muttered. 
“You don’t need to worry about that now,” Y/N said. “I doubt you thought you would be proposing tonight.”
“No, I didn’t,” Eris replied. 
He slowly stood to his feet and Y/N now tilted her head to look at him. They stood nearly chest to chest and Y/N felt her breathing get heavier. 
“Here,” Eris said, pulling off his silver signet ring. “Wear this until I can get you your engagement ring.”
As Eris slipped it onto her finger, everything suddenly became real. Eris was really her fiance. She was an engaged woman. The man standing before her would soon be her husband. When she stood in front of her mirror earlier that evening, Y/N felt like she was scraping the bottom of the barrel, not she felt as if she were on the top of the world. It was a feeling she could get used to. 
The ring on her finger was slightly loose but it still felt right. Y/N looked up at Eris who was looking down at her with so much love in his eyes. Y/N couldn’t help but lean forward to rest her forehead on his. 
“I love you, Y/N,” Eris whispered, his breath fanning her face. 
Y/N wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, breathing in his familiar scent. It immediately put her at ease. 
“Shall we announce to everyone that we are engaged?” Eris asked. 
“Would we be able to stay here just a moment longer?” Y/N asked. “As much as I would love to wipe the smirks from Evangeline and Iris’s faces, I still haven’t processed everything properly.”
Eris nodded and leaned forward. Y/N was expecting his lips to fall upon her own, when they didn’t she found herself to be quite disappointed. Although his lips were soon pressed against her cheek. 
“We can stay here for as long as you like,” Eris replied. 
Y/N smiled and held out her hand. The music from the ballroom was dull and faint but it was still audible. “Then how about a dance with your future wife.”
Eris smirked and took her hand in his. “I like the sound of that.”
As Eris danced with her in the sitting room, Y/N smiled and laughed genuinely for what felt like the first time in a long time. She let go and had fun. The weight that she had been pulling around with her for years had finally been lifted. 
Despite her and Eris still needing to work things out, she finally relaxed in his arms and allowed herself to feel that childlike glee she had when her and Eris would dance around the day room when they were younger. The steps were messy yet everything was more than perfect. 
“Future husband,” Y/N mused. “I quite like the sound of that.”
When Eris quickly pecked her lips, Y/N was not able to process it until he was pulling away and heading to the door. 
“Let us go so I can tell the world that you are to be my wife,” Eris said impatiently. 
Y/N smiled and allowed him to take her hand in his. When she followed him to the ballroom, everything else became a blur as she was swept up in a dance with Eris. Despite the lace hanging off her dress and the redness around her eyes. She had never felt so beautiful before. Not because of the man spinning her around the ballroom floor but because of the way the man made her feel. He made her feel like herself again. She made her feel whole. 
“Future husband,” Y/N muttered.
“Future wife,” Eris replied as the dance came to an end. 
There was no one else in the room as Eris took a step forward and pulled Y/N into a kiss. Gasps echoed around them but Y/N didn’t care about being proper. She didn’t care that this gossip would spread around the ton. After all, they were already engaged, there wasn’t much that could run either of them now. 
As Eris pulled away he uttered three simple words against her lips.
“You are beautiful.”
For the first time in a long time Y/N truly felt it. 
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n0tamused · 1 month
Note
idk if i can request but —
What about ratio with a reader who is always sleepy but refuses to sleep on time? (Technically nocturnal reader haha)
Like; he’d be home from the guild after a particularly long day and he sees the reader doing whatever on the dead of night
Or maybe when hes asleep he suddenly stirrs awake with music coming from the living room or reader accidently dropping a bowl in the kitchen, creating very loud noise!!
Would he scold us ? 🥲
Feel free to ignore this if you want!! 🫶
A/n: Sorry for taking so long but I do hope you enjoy this little drabble! <3 I am slowly working on the requests aaa I feel like Ratio would definitely be prone to scolding you for this behavior, but he'd try to encourage you to go to bed early by dragging you to his nightly routine with him. You just gotta sleep after it, there's no choice bro. Try saying no to sleep around him I dare you
Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN reader, nocturnal reader that overworks themselves, fluff.
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Long sighs of night air send satisfying shivers down Veritas’ back as he trudges his way forth through the swallowing darkness, reminded once more that his bedtime schedule had long since been lost with the sudden trip the Guild had set him up to. Yet, in the moment, he couldn’t even be irritated as the breeze felt most pleasant to his tired body and mind. 
In long strides he reached the front door, his hands fiddling with the keys while he reached up with the other hand to rub the bridge of his nose, his fingertips soothing down the edges and beneath his eyes with soothing pressure. Light poured out of the hall and onto the welcome mat, illuminated the sudden ridge between his brows that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere. One glance at the clock reminded him of the time - 01:26 AM. The lights were off during these hours, generally speaking.
Veritas sighed softly, his jaw clenched as he took off his shoes and stalked over to the office room which you were currently occupying, big black headphones over your ears not allowing you to hear his approach. The door was left open, and as Veritas wordlessly made his way inside, he spotted an empty cup beside you and he heard the aggressive scribbling of pen on paper before he even saw you holding it.
Glancing down at the trashcan, he found it oddly full with crumbled balls of torn paper sheets and sticky notes. He dreaded guessing how long you were here for, but he could practically feel the stress oozing off of you in long heavy coats. 
Startling you seemed unavoidable even as he tried to gently tap you on the shoulder, his warm palm soon pressing onto it to stop you from jumping from your chair. The contact made you gasp and spin around, accidentally drawing a sharp diagonal line down your paper. The color that was so quick to drain from your face slowly began to seep back in through your eyes as you recognized the man now hovering behind you, and a sigh fell from your lips in pure relief. “Oh, Veritas- it’s you!.. Did you just get back? I do apologize, I didn’t hear you” you dropped your pen, pulling down your ear phones to instead turn around and wrap your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed against his stomach.
He returned the affection by rubbing up and down your back, his other hand gently placed on top of your head. “I did. And I think it goes without saying that I am not most pleased to find you in this state..” he muttered, his voice softened from his long travels, but filled with a loving scolding.  “What is this? Have you not finished this already before I left?” he asked as he watched you pull away and look up at him, still a little hunched over and with your two fingers hooked around his belt hoop. 
“I have finished it, but.. uh.. it wasn’t good. I went back in to do some retouching, and I just kept not liking any of them” you explained as your previous soft smile fell, unveiling the bags underneath your eyes and the sagging of your shoulders. Veritas knew you were prone to perfectionism and overexertion, yet he knew he’d never get used to it and that he’d never stop scolding you for it. 
“These retouches- they couldn’t wait until you were more well rested. You do know they won’t run off should you look away from them for a few hours, from my office no less..” he grumbled lightly, his brows relaxing before cinching together as he saw you look away and turn to look at your paper, as if you did not hear what he just said.
“I know.. but I am finishing up now. I did make some of your favorite tonight. You can go ahead and do your thing while I finish up, and as soon as you’re done with your shower, you’ll find the meal warmed up for you. I’ll be done by then” 
Veritas didn’t even know if you were trying to distract him and send him off, change the topic or get him off your back. He shook his head. Whatever the objective was, he decided to play soft tonight and let you do your work for a little while more, to soothe you in some way. He knew how it was to be forced to leave work unfinished. Both of you were too tired for even simple banter which you usually enjoyed. But he made his dissatisfaction known with a heavy sigh and a fluttering of his eyes that fell shut for a few heartbeats. “Fine.. but no need to warm up the food, it is too late to have such a meal. I’ll go clean myself up, and then you will do the same. You need rest..”
There was no argument there, you knew, and could only look up at him and nod before he was walking out of the office room and into the bathroom. A timer like that would usually send you into a panic, yet now you found yourself slightly more motivated and even relaxed. This was Veritas you were with, your Veritas - not some rude client that wished to rush you and undermine you. 
Your finishing touches would need retouching in the morning, as you find yourself not completely satisfied even now, but you decided it was time to lay down the pen for tonight. And it wasn’t like you had much of a choice when Veritas stood at the door, towel around his waist. hair still damp from his shower and asking - no, saying you were done and that you should get ready for bed too now.
You slid out of the chair, giving him a hug as you passed by him in the door frame, earning yourself a soft scoff as he kissed your crown and sent you off with a few pats on your shoulder. He was eager for rest, but also to be in your arms. Something he missed the last few days. 
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
Tags: @the-inquisitive-constellation <3
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yameoto · 1 month
Note
knocked up omega cate whos so frustrated w you because you just woke up from a hangover and a night full of girls needing help with their heats, eager to tell you about her pregnancy, just to see you not take her seriously, thinking that she's pulling your leg. frustrated little thing tries hard to get your foggy brain to listen, growing more and more irritated by the second as you consistently dismiss her words as a joke and catching sight of the faint hickeys on your neck, and suddenly, she's whining and begging and— "please, listen to me!"
and oh the poor thing, you sit up blearily the moment she'd started to sniffle and you're pulling her into your lap and hugging her and finally, you're listening to her. she's having your pup and oh— next thing she knows, she's mewling for her neck to be marked, all glassy eyes and whimpers as you continued to rub against her ruined underwear, hands tugging at your hair to try and get you to mark her so desperately.
sobbing the moment you've slipped inside her, finally clenching over something with glittery tears streaming down her cheeks, tugging at your hair because goddamn, just mark her already! but you won't, and she doesn't understand why. you claim it's to get her prepared, and its all bullshit, she knows. she's more than prepared and she's not dumb. she doesn't understand why you just won't mark her. she's been a good girl, and for god's sake, she's carrying your pup! isn't that reason enough for her to be marked?
passes out the moment your teeth make contact with her skin, all limp limbs draped over your body, all too hypersensitive with the pregnancy and christ, a mark has never looked this good on anybody.
xoxo im giving you my liver yam. i keep coming back to your inbox.
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the way this made me instantly wet. fuck. of course you don't take her seriously, at first. why would you? you've been the resident panty-dropper of the dorms since freshman year and not once have you even marked anyone. let alone gotten anyone pregnant. because obviously you're more trustworthy than all the shitty alpha men out there. your strength in powers is almost irrelevant compared to the self-control you have to not mark up or breed any of the omegas that knock on your dormroom door; rubbing their thighs together, whimpering and wet. cate hates thinking about them. has something in her stomach boiling and skin prickling, even before she bought the pregnancy test kit.
it doesn't help that cate comes in right after you've finished with another omega, passing them as they limp out of your dorms, blushing and sated. when she comes in, you look it, too. brain all fuzzy from the high you've just gotten—only just got your sweatpants pulled up when cate floats in. anxious, fiddling thing. fidgeting in the middle of your dorm room, fingers twisting the hem of her shirt, psyching herself up like she's been for the past four days before it just spills from her lips; "i'm pregnant. s'yours." rushing out so fast you almost miss it. holding her breath for your reply, head pounding. the words set you on fire, for a moment. line of electricity crackling through your ears and straight to your cock. then, clarity hits. "no, you're not." you snort, suppressing the flush of disappointment (and arousal) that unspools. this is silly. it's probably one of andre's dumbass dares or jordan's version of a joke.
and cate. oh, poor little cate, whose been losing sleep and gnawing at nails and readying for this all to blow up in her face; to drop out of school and become a single fucking mother; rendered utterly stunned in the face of your disbelief. she just stands there, silent, before her shock melts away to annoyance.
"i am!" she stamps her foot. looks a little like a toddler. you bore her with this utterly deadpan look like, c'mon now, that has equal parts disbelief and desperation welling up in her throat. her breathing's coming in fast, now. and she says it again, one more time—in a way that has your eyes sharpening and body sitting upright in bed. pulling her into your arms, and her brain almost turns to static right then and there. all alpha alpha strong alpha gonna take care of me gonna take care of our babies—
when you don't mark her as soon as her plea is murmured into your neck, she lets out the most plaintive whine you've ever heard. cate's heart thrumming fast as she nuzzles into your chest, trembling. is she such a bad omega? she doesn't understand why you don't want to mark her. it's in your biology. she's carrying your pup, for god's sake. it should be the one priority in your head to stake your claim. mark her up and show the world she's yours, forever. why aren't you? fuck. and maybe its irrational but it hurts. because at first you dismissed her claims like they were nothing and now, even as you believe her; run your fingers over her tummy so tenderly it makes her whimper—you're still not marking her. still not mating her. even when she sinks back onto your cock and your teeth are dragging along her neck you're still not biting, and it makes her want to burst into tears. why don't you want to? what about her is so deplorable you're fighting your deepest, most primal, innermost instincts? there's a burning in her cheeks and her chest and her thighs as she bucks herself on your lap, pounding slick cunt to your cock, like she could force you if she could wriggle you in deep enough, make you feel good enough. she could force you, but she wants you to want it. doesn't know what she'd do if you didn't. you're not seriously going to fuck around with the other girls in your dorms while she's pregnant with your pup, are you? the thought has her spiralling, breathing harsh and ragged as she slams so deep against your hips; her eyes rolling back, gasping, "please please please–" "i'll be so good—" "do anything–" and she's crying out and creaming all over your cock. wet, squelching sounds only getting louder. she refuses to pull off until you mark her, delirious and overstimulated and leaving a gooey white ring around your base. she's panting, mumbling, blinking back tears as she presses flush into you "god, i'll be good—be such a good mommy—please—" and that's when you can't take it anymore and your teeth latch down. such a good mommy, you echo, growling into her neck. the way she nods, fast and eager to please—whining happily as she fucks herself back on your cock. she will she will she will she will.
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russellsppttemplates · 9 months
Text
Uh oh, I'm falling in love (Lando Norris)
Y/N and Lando both have jobs that require good sight and attention to detail and yet they're oblivious to their feelings for eachother
Note: english is not my first language. I'm in a very fluffy mood, so I got really excited when I got this request! This also makes my expectations even higher and calls me single in about seventeen different languages at once...
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions a needle (for sewing)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Hey guys! How's everyone?", Max said to the camera as you made sure the set up was right, the screen showing his and Lando's faces on one screen and the table on the other like it was supposed to.
"As per your many, many requests, we have brought our graphic designer at Quadrant, Y/N", Lando announced as you appeared on camera, sending a very awkward first wave to the camera, "today's stream is little different than our usual programming, but it was the only way she agreed to be in one! You guys really wanted to see her, so we had to be creative!", Max said as he moved the friendship bracelets making kit into view on the table.
"Hey, Queen Taylor said we should make the friendship bracelets, so we're just following her!", you chuckled, looking at all the coloured threads and colourful beads, sorting them out and grabbing a pen and paper so you could draw your ideas.
"Since you guys wanted to get to know Y/N, can I tell them to send in questions?", Lando questioned you, "sure, I'll answer them to the best of mu ability", you smiled.
You were picking the letters you needed for the bracelet you were making when Max spoke up, "first one: how did you start working with Quadrant? I'd love to work on the team when I finish my degree!".
"I saw the job offer, and I must admit at first I didn't really know much about the company. I looked it up, looked cool enough and I sent my CV and portfolio in. So keep your eyes peeled for any offers, I guess? We have them now on the website, which was my doing, so you can check them out there if you want to be part of the team", you offered.
"I need help, guys", Lando said as he fiddled with his bracelet, the orange and grey beads with his initials sliding on the elasticated material, I can't do the closing knot on my own", he pouted as you placed your bracelet down.
"You have to flip it like this, here. Just put it on your wrist and I'll do the rest", you ushered him, your fingertips gingerly touching his hand and wrist as you quietly laced it, "this way we don't get frilly bits out and it looks pretty, see? Pretty!", you smiled, modelling his wrist for the camera.
Pretty, that's what he often thought about you. Not only pretty, but it was one of the first physical traits that came to mind.
"We should all have matching ones!", Max said as he completed his bracelet, impressively on his own, revealing the colourful beads with Quadrant spelled in white round beads with black letters, "I'll make one for each of you", he said as he watched you show your own, pink beads and a lyric he assumed was from a Taylor Swift song.
"I'll make Y/N's, she helped me after all", Lando said as one brave fan sent a comment into the chat.
He's so giddy to make Y/N a bracelet, it's a shame it will snap because of his lack of skills
Am I delusional if I say that they'd make a great couple?
If you're delusional, then what do I call myself? I still think they're making heart eyes at eachother whenever they catch the slightest glimpse!
We're joining forces, I think it's a noble pursuit!
He's a dork, Y/N, but you should give him a chance
Have you always known you wanted to be a graphic designer?
"I thought about different careers before I settled on this one, for now at least", you explained, "engineering was in the running up, but then I figured out that I was curious about how things worked, but that didn't mean that I wanted to be the one working on it. And this was a way to express my creativity, my strategy planning as well, and at the moment it's been quite good", you smiled as Lando grabbed your wrist softly, "I need to make sure this fits", he interrupted, "and it won't snap because I've learnt how to do it, thank you very much", he blushed. So he, too, was reading the comments, choosing not to dwell in them.
"Look, this way you always have a lucky charm with you everywhere you go, even if we're not together. We're eachothers lucky charms!", Lando announced as Max mafe a fake gagging noise.
.
"Are you all ready?", you said as you and Tara walked inside the room, clasping your watch on your wrist and hoping to find the boys ready.
Quadrant had been invited to a gala dinner that celebrated the companies in the same line of business, inviting five people to take part in the meal. After some team members politely declining the invitation since they had things booked already, the group ended up being Lando, Max, Callum, Tara and yourself.
The dress required everyone to up their usual style, hence the long dress you were wearing. Even though it was far from your usual everyday attire, you felt beautiful in the dress you ended up with after browsing the online shops for a while. The cut was simple, the skirt widening from your waist down and complimenting your curves as the sheen from the midnight blue fabric looked soft and sweet against your skin.
Lando seemed to think the same, trying his best to not let his mouth hang open when you and Tara walked inside their room, heels clicking on the wooden floor as you hurried them, "does it really take that long to put on a suit? I had to help Tara with the laces on her back and we still got ready faster than the three of you?", you asked, shaking your wrist to check if the dainty watch wasn't going to fall and that it wasn't too tight either.
Looking up to meet Lando's eyes, you were sure you physically and audibly gulped. No one should look that good in a plain white shirt. The cuffs were still unbuttoned, but the shirt itself was tucked in his black pants. He didn't have any jewellery, so his tanned skin caught your eye as it contrasted with his clothes.
"Lando has a problem with his shirt and we are trying to solve it", Max said, a little bit too antsy given that, at the naked eye, there didn't seem to be a big issue with the piece of clothing you had been inspecting quite closely.
"There was a loose button, and I tried to fix it, but I made it worse", Lando said as he pointed to the button on his hand, the slight movement showing you the place where it was supposed to he holding the piece together and closed.
"Three people in this room and no one thought about grabbing the sewing kit from the amenities?", Tara suggested, looking for it in the box that was the same as it was in your room, "see? Simple as that! Can you sew it, Y/N? My hand isn't fully healed yet, I can't quite grasp something that small yet".
Tara had injured herself earlier on in the week, prompting her to ask to tag out of the gala until you pleaded her to go so you wouldn't be alone, so she couldn't do it. None of the other guys seemed to even know how to pull the thread through the needle, so you grabbed the kit from Tara's hand, "sure, I'll do it", you said, "if that's okay with you, that is", you looked over at Lando.
"Sure, anything to solve this. Do I keep it on or should I take it off?", he questioned, wanting to slap himself straight after at his offer. Why would he volunteer to be shirtless in front of you? It certainly wasn't the way to go, shoving himself like that.
"On should be fine", you muttered, missing the snickers going on behind you as you wet the thread with your tongue, careful to not transfer any of the lipstick on it and ruining the piece without point of return for good, easily looping it through and adjusting the size of the ends.
"Button", you put your hand out so Lando could place it in your fingers, "I will do my best not to poke you, let me know if I do so accidentally", you mumbled at the closeness to him you found yourself in. It was the third button from the top, and as much as you loved the sight of the shirt slightly undone, the dinner required his shirt to be done up. Looping the thread on the button a few times, you moved to pierce the crisp white fabric so it would be secure, your hands dangerously close to his skin as you could hear his laboured breath. Lando still remembered and thought constantly about your fingers touching his hand and wrist when you did the friendship bracelets video for the YouTube channel, and right now, it only added to his predicament.
"It's done, all good!", you exclaimed, looking up as you cut the thread and seeing Lando's eyes on you. The intensity nearly threw you off of your balance as you stood the tiniest bit crouched down on your high heels.
Scrambling to further the distance between your bodies, you smoothed out the non existent wrinkles on your dress, storing the supplies back in the kit as Lando managed to utter out a thank you, too stunned and intoxicated by your scent to say anything else.
"I sewed a button as neither of you look any more ready that you were when we got here? We're going to be late!", you hurried, sitting next to Tara and ignoring her smirk as you scrolled through your phone.
.
"That shoot will have to wait since Lando won't be back here soon, then", you said, moving things around in the online shared calendar, "when did you say you could again? I'm sorry", you asked, rubbing your forehead and squeezing your eyes, adjusting your glasses and looking at him through the screen.
"The first weekend of the next month", Lando assured, "are you okay, Y/N?", he asked. The bags under your eyes didn't fool anyone and you looked tired. And sick, he guessed by the layers of clothing you had on.
"I had a pretty shit day, actually", you admitted, "I had to go with the guys from storage because there was an issue. The supplier sent the samples and we wanted to get things moving so I could have some ideas for the description and the social media team also wanted to prep the draft for the whole story telling, but it all went under. I also think I caught some bug, so it's been a fun day", you exaggeratingly smiled, mocking your own misery.
"You look like you need a hug, Y/N. Do you need a hug?", Lando asked as you nodded, "Actually, that would be pretty good, but I live alone. The neighbours would think I'm pretty weird if I went around like this asking for one, too", you reasoned.
Even though he wasn't next to you, Lando still managed to pull a smile out of you as he got up from the chair he was sitting in, hugging his laptop, "did you feel that hug?", he loudly wondered, "it's full of Get well soon fairy dust!", he smiled charmingly.
"Fairy dust, mate?", Callum wondered, reminding you of his presence in the videocall, "you try and spend more than a few hours with a little girl and you let me know. Mila has taught me all about fairy dust and princess magic", Lando added.
.
"How will we get out of here?", you wondered, starting to regret joining Lando, Max and Pietra when they said they were going to watch a football game. You loved the sport and you figured it would be a nice distraction after a work loaded week, but now, things were looking less than a distraction.
"We will let them space out once the game finishes, free up the roads as well because getting out of here will be a pain, too", Lando suggested.
The game granted your team a win and three points in the championship, the crowd going wild as they clapped, whistled and waved their scarfs, slowly leaving the stadium.
"Should we make a run for it now?", Pietra said, holding her boyfriend's hand as she allowed him to pull her away.
You followed Lando, thanking his choice of a colourful hoodie to wear today as it made it easier for you to spot him, "go in front of me, I'll back you up", he switched positions. You weren't having too much trouble until you were met with a ramp, people carelessly shoving others as they tried to leave as quick as they could, all with the same intent of avoiding traffic and crowded roads.
"Here, Y/N", you heard Lando as he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers in his and pulling you along, excusing you two as you approached Max and Pietra again, "we're here", you tapped the blonde woman's shoulder with your free hand.
"Goodness, that was and adventure", she said once you reached the stadium car park, the crowd clearing up significantly as there was maybe another ten people headed the same way as you were now, "is everyone alright? I think someone stepped on my foot quite a few times, or many people stepped on it at various different times", you reasoned, walking alongside Lando still.
"Don't we need to hand the bracelets back?", Max said as he looked at the sign, taking his bracelet off and depositing it in the box in the booth, Pietra doing the same as you seemed distracted.
"Are you okay, Y/N?", Max asked, seeing you and Lando were still holding hands and, because of that, not taking off your bracelets.
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?", you scrunched your eyebrows, "we need to hand the bracelets back in, so I kind of need to have yours, too", he teased, looking at your hand still entwined with Lando's.
Removing your hand from Lando's as if it har started burning all of a sudden, you removed the bracelet, apologising quietly to the stadium employee as you thanked him, "shall we go now?".
"Dinner out?", Lando gulped, getting into the driver's seat, "Good idea, yes", Max added, sitting in the passenger's seat as you and Pietra sat in the back, your hand rubbing your other hand that had been laced with Lando's own one for a long time. Uh oh, you were falling in love.
.
The launch was finally over after an amazing response from the fans, leaving your heart happy and warm with a sense of mission accomplished.
"Is everything packed into the van?", you asked Tara, "yes, it's just this box. It has fragile things, so do you think you guys can take it in the car with you? It probably only fits at the front, so you'll have to squeeze in with the boys on the back", she smiled apologetically, "it's fine, we'll keep eachother warm like penguins do", you chuckled, holding the door open as she set the box safely.
Saying goodbye to her and the rest of the team, Max and Lando joined you, "You sit in the middle seat", Max pointed at you, opening the door ao you could scoot closer to Lando and he could get in.
"Could you tell me how long we have until get back?", Lando asked the driver, "with traffic at this hour, I'd say around 90 minutes", he smiled, turning on the blinker so he could leave the car park.
"Plenty of time for me to catch up on sleep, then!", you cheered, making yourself comfortable in the space you had, folding your scarf into an impromptu travel pillow, closing your eyes.
"Are you a snorer?", Max asked, making you blindly swat his thigh, "only when I'm sick, and lucky for you, I'm in presteen health, no blocked nose", you grumbled.
It didn't take you long to fall asleep. In the last week, all of the nights combined, you probably slept less than thirty hours, so your body was indeed in need of rest.
"And there it goes", Max said as your pillow undid itself, Lando lifting his shoulder in reflex so your head wouldn't drop drastically, landing on top of him, "Good thing she isn't our engineer, hm?", he chuckled, looking at how his bestfriend was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon.
"I think I'm in love with Y/N", Lando whispered after he took your appearance in. You had forgone wearing make-up today, so he could see all your moles and scars, your pouty lips and the darkened skin under your eyes. It took everything in him to not bend down and kiss your forehead.
"Congrats on being the last one to find out, mate", Max added, shaking his head, "I genuinely thought you had some issue processing information, I'm glad to find out you don't.
"Now you just have to act on it, which is going to take you, what? Two, three more months?".
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ma-yawntu · 4 months
Text
mine, all mine. iv.
chapter four: divine
pairing: neteyam x female!metkayina!reader
summary: Your brother was always getting into trouble– and somehow it was always your responsibility to get him out of it.
word count: 3.9k
warnings: punching, blood, injury, lil surpriiiise, like one swear word
now playing... learning 037 by sandy crow
series masterlist
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“Eyes,” you made the sign for eyes with your fingers, watching Kiri make the sign effortlessly back to you while Lo’ak and Neteyam fiddled with their fingers before clumsily copying your sign. “Good,” you smiled before moving onto the next sign, “now, this one is ears.”
You had been teaching the siblings sign language for the past few days, helping them with very basic signs to help them communicate important information while underwater. Kiri seemed to get the hang of it rather quickly while Neteyam and Lo’ak seemed to struggle, the two of them staring intensely at their own hands as they attempted to copy you. 
“What is the sign for ‘beautiful’?” Lo’ak asked, Kiri and Neteyam snickering to themselves. Lo’ak looked at his siblings with an offended expression, “I was just asking."
“It’s okay, Lo’ak,” you chuckled before showing him the sign. “You… Are… Beautiful,” you signed slowly, letting him copy your movements. You knew the boy had a crush on your sister because she was crushing just as hard on him, talking your ear off every night about him until you fell asleep. You found it cute at first until she found any and every chance to talk about him. You felt like you knew him more than he knew you. 
“You… Are… Beautiful,” Lo’ak copied, mumbling the words to himself. You laughed softly, reaching over to fix his finger and hand placement. Neteyam watched you correct his brother, wondering if he should mess up every now and then so you’d correct him too. 
The four of you sat on the beach, the waves gently caressing the shoreline as the sun began to set. The Sully family had been staying in your village for almost a month, all of them getting much better with their free diving and breathing, though you had very little to correct with Kiri, she was doing remarkably well for a Na’vi who grew up in the forest. 
You were almost thankful for the arrival of Jake Sully and his family– while you were disappointed you weren’t able to train with Teyoa as much anymore, their sudden arrival had made it difficult for your parents to arrange as many meals with possible mates and their families. You had the odd one here and there, but teaching the forest Na’vi the way of water had occupied a lot of your time and to you, it felt like time well spent. 
“Have you been practising your breathing?” You asked Neteyam as the two of you swam toward the middle of the reef. Tsireya had taken Kiri and Tuk with her to show them how to use the txampaysye [Gill Mantle] to their advantage while underwater, while you decided to spring a challenge on Neteyam since he’d promised to practise his breathing. 
“Yes,” he replied, trying to catch up with you as you used your tail to push you through the water. “I think I’m the only one of my siblings that actually practises.”
“We’ll see about that,” you sang, rolling onto your back as you swam toward the deepest part of the reef, the bioluminescent water glowing with your movements. Neteyam watched you sway through the water, mesmerised by your comfort in the water around you. “I want you to catch this,” his attention snapped back to your voice, watching as you held up a small glowing shell.
“Catch it?” He asked curiously. 
You smiled cheekily before throwing it a few metres away from you, he watched you do it before he looked at you again, eyes blown wide, “catch it,” you nodded.
Neteyam stared at you in disbelief, “how am I supposed to–”
“It’s getting awfully far away, Neteyam,” you teased, pursing your lips. 
Neteyam sucked in a long breath before diving down after it, doing his best to keep his eyes trained on the tiny glowing shell that just seemed to get further and further away the closer he got. The reef glowed brightly with different hues of blue, green and purple as he swam straight down, his hand reaching out and barely grazing the shell. He let out a small frustrated huff, bubble bobbing to the surface as you watched from above with a stupid grin on your face.
He finally wrapped his fingers around the shell, his ears sore from the pressure of being so deep in the reef. Neteyam quickly looked up, smiling to himself at seeing you floating above, watching him intently. He pushed off the plush sand, quickly rising to the surface with the shell tucked in his grasp. His chest was hurting from the lack of oxygen and when he finally surfaced, he took in a deep breath, panting slightly.
“I got it,” he beamed, showing you the shell.
You smiled, reaching out to grasp his wrist, “see? I knew you could do it,” you laughed, his skin suddenly feeling hot from you touching him. You were easily one of the most beautiful girls in the village, he understood why you were so sought after by the village boys but you seemed to be disinterested in them, it made him wonder if you’d ever consider him.
“Did you really have faith in me or was it a shot in the dark?” He asked curiously.
“A shot… in the dark?” You repeated, unfamiliar with the phrase.
“Right, I forget other people don’t know human phrases,” Neteyam laughed. You almost forgot his dad used to be one of the Sky People but then Lo’ak or Tuk would say or do something strange that would remind you of the fact. “It means to… to guess, you know?”
“Oh, I see,” you laughed, “No, it was not a shot in the dark, I had complete faith in your ability,” you retorted as you began swimming toward the shore. It was starting to get late, with the majority of the village either gathered at the beach for their meal or sleeping. 
Neteyam fiddled with the shell in his hand as the two of you walked down the beach. You had a habit of walking him home, he never pointed it out, wondering if you noticed your habit yourself or if you just liked talking to him– he’d like to think you were just too lost in the conversation to notice. 
You had warmed up to Neteyam a lot, you admit that you found him and his siblings a little annoying at first, only because you didn’t want to have to babysit them on top of tending to your own duties as the tsakarem, but you found them to be good company. You even enjoyed spending time with Neteyam, almost a little too much. Most of the men in the clan that attempted to court you didn’t seem interested in you, only interested in being the leader of the clan. They brought you gifts that you didn’t even like and only talked about themselves. But Neteyam– he was different. He seemed interested in getting to know you– something you’d never experienced before.
“What do your tattoos mean?” Neteyam asked curiously, eyeing the intricate art that adorned your ribs. You looked at him and he quickly clarified, “I just see a lot of people with tattoos on their arms, chest and face but I haven’t seen any like yours.”
You smiled at his nervousness before you spoke, recalling the story, “when I was born, I wasn’t breathing. Metkayina are born in the water and it’s tradition that we swim to take our first breath. But I did not move and I wasn’t breathing,” you said softly, reaching up to play with your hair. “But after a while, I was able to breathe on my own… My mother always told me that Eywa gave me a second chance.”
Neteyam listened to you intently, unable to take his eyes off you as you spoke, “when you get tattoos after your Iknimaya, they chronicle your life. And for me, I was given tattoos on my ribs as a way to signify the breath I was given by Eywa,” you laughed softly at the last part, recalling the story your mother told you again and again. “Silly, right?”
“Not at all,” Neteyam replied honestly, if anything, he thought that was a beautiful way to honour the life you were given. 
“I think that’s why my parents expect a lot from me,” you shrugged, “they just want me to live up to my ‘potential’,” you said the last part sarcastically, laughing to yourself. 
Judging by the way you said it, Neteyam thought you didn’t think you’d lived up to your parents expectations. “You don’t think you have?” Neteyam asked.
“Not in the way they want,” you replied. “They want me to be the Tsahik, be a good healer but– I don’t think it’s what I’m made for.”
“What are you made for?” Neteyam asked gently, eyes never leaving you.
You paused, Neteyam stopping beside you, “I’m not sure.”
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You stood in the shallow water by the shore, plucking ripe fruits from the soft sand. Neteyam’s question had been haunting you since the night before– you felt like you were having a crisis thinking about what it was you wanted for your life, why Eywa kept you alive. You wanted so badly to be a warrior, but you knew your parents would never allow it, wanting to keep their oldest daughter safe. You understood why, you really did, but it didn’t make it any less hard. 
Your ears perked up at the sound of commotion behind you. You stood up from your spot in the shallow water, watching as your brother and his friends picked on Kiri. You frowned, dropping your woven bag of fruits on the sand with your blade, watching the scene for a moment. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but the moment Ao’nung tugged on Kiri’s arm, you cursed under your breath and started stomping up the sand. 
“Back off, fish lips!” Lo’ak got there first, emerging from the village as you moved up the sand bank. 
“Oh! Another four-fingered freak,” Ao’nung teased. Eywa, he was such a jerk sometimes.
“Look at his little baby tail!” You hadn’t even bothered to learn half of Ao’nung’s friends' names. One of them pulled on Lo’ak’s tail, starting to piss you off. Lo’ak shoved him away, your brother attempting to shove Lo’ak back.
“Leave us alone!” Kiri shouted, standing off to the side, not wanting to involve herself but still attempting to break up what was inevitably going to be a fight. 
No one seemed to notice your angry surge toward them, too busy trying to get under each other’s skin as Kiri watched on, unable to do much else. But they were quick to notice your presence when you pulled on Lo’ak’s arm, effectively pulling him behind you to shield him from your brother’s antics. You planted your hand flat on Ao’nung’s chest, pushing him back.
“Leave it alone,” you said lowly, staring daggers up at your brother.
“Uh oh, big sister’s here–” Ao’nung held up his arm, silencing his friend behind him. Lo’ak and Kiri stood behind you with bated breath, watching you diffuse the situation. 
“What is going on?” Neteyam’s voice almost surprised you, Ao’nung’s friends briefly turning their attention to the oldest forest Na’vi brother but your own brother didn’t take his angry eyes off you, trying to intimidate you. 
“We were just leaving,” you said, giving one last push to Ao’nung’s chest before you turned around, placing your hand gently on Kiri’s back as you guided her away from the beach. Neteyam and Lo’ak hesitated for a moment before following behind you.
“You sure you want to hang out with these freaks?” Ao’nung called behind you. Lo’ak and Neteyam quickly whipped their heads around, Lo’ak quick to march back down to your brother, standing chest to chest with him. 
“Hey! No, Lo’ak, don’t,” Neteyam urged, trying to push his brother back. You kept your hand on Kiri’s back, your breath hitched in your throat as you watched.
“You want to see something real cool?” Lo’ak tilted his head sarcastically.
Neteyam gritted his teeth, “Lo’ak–”
“I mean, I know it’s weird, huh?” Lo’ak wiggled his pinky in Ao’nung’s face. “I am a freak; an alien. But watch–” Lo’ak balled his hand up tight, “first you do this, then–”
Lo’ak quickly swung at your brother, once, twice, knocking him flat on his ass. Ao’nung’s eyes widened in disbelief, “don’t ever touch my sister again!” Ao’nung got up, quickly slamming his body into Lo’ak’s, the two of them tumbling into the sand. 
You watched as Neteyam laughed for a moment as his brother rolled around in the sand with Ao’nung and his friends, blindly throwing punches. You almost groaned when Neteyam scratched the back of his head, his shoulders shrugging as he went to join in, “Neteyam, don’t– and there he goes.”
“This is so stupid!” Kiri yelled, groaning in disbelief. 
“Ao’nung!” you shouted, grunting angrily before you surged forward, yanking on your brother’s tail from where he straddled Lo’ak, trying to throw a punch at him. You dragged him across the sand but you were quickly knocked to the side as one of Ao’nung’s friends tackled Neteyam, pinning his legs down and throwing a punch at his face, splitting his lip. 
You quickly stood up, “get off him!” you shouted, yanking on his kuru and punching him square in the face. The chaos subsided, Kiri gasping and throwing her hands over her mouth as Ao’nung’s friend stumbled back off Neteyam, clutching his bleeding nose and letting out a cry. 
“What the hell,” everyone comically turned to look at the source of the voice, Jake Sully standing there and taking in the bruised and bloodied faces of his kids and more terrifying– the Olo’eyktan’s kids. 
“Shiiit,” Lo’ak cursed. 
Your mother arrived shortly after Jake, ordering Ao’nung’s friends to go see the healers while she dragged your brother to his feet by his kuru and grabbed the back of your neck tightly, holding the two of you as your father came storming down the beach. Jake spoke quietly to Lo’ak and Neteyam, though his voice was stern, Lo’ak staring at the ground while Neteyam huffed, seeming ashamed. 
Jake grabbed his sons harshly by their shoulders, forcing them to stand in front of the Olo’eyktan, Neteyam and Lo’ak standing beside you. Your father directed his attention toward Jake for a moment before looking over his sons. Neteyam’s lip was split, a bruise blooming over his chest while Lo’ak had a bruise forming on his cheek and a split in his brow from where Ao’nung had thrown a punch. 
“Why are our children bleeding?” Your father questioned loudly, your ears pinning back at the sound. 
“Tell your father what happened,” Ronal ordered, pushing you and your brother forward. Ao’nung hung his head, seemingly able to close his big fat mouth for once. 
“It is my fault,” you stepped forward, feeling Neteyam, Lo’ak, Ao’nung and Jake look at you.
“I do not believe this,” your mother scoffed, swatting the back of your head.
“It is true, father,” you sighed, looking up at your dad who had his jaw clenched as he looked down at you, unsure if he believed a word you were saying. “I threw the first punch.” You massaged your bruised hand from where you had rather harshly punched Ao’nung’s friend in the face. 
“This is improper, child,” your father whispered harshly, “they are guests here, we do not do this–”
Neteyam and Lo’ak’s brows knitted together, your father believing you had hurt them when you were simply defending them and their sister. You were always getting your stupid brother out of trouble, he was going to owe you big time for this one, “it will not happen again, father.”
“Sir,” Neteyam stepped forward with his hands raised, Jake attempting to silence his son by grabbing at his shoulder. “This is not her doing–”
“Please, Neteyam,” you sighed, your hand wrapping around his arm.
“It is not right,” Neteyam looked at you, his golden eyes filled with such worry. He stared at you for a moment longer before glancing at your father, “she was defending me, sir. My brother and I…” he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “It was my fault.”
Tonowari stared at Neteyam for a moment before looking at you, your hand squeezing Neteyam’s arm gently, your silent plea for him to take back what he said and let you take the blame– it would be easier for everyone. Tonowari looked to his mate and Ronal slowly shook her head, not believing that either of you were to blame for what happened.
“Fix him up,” your father ordered. You looked up at him and he quickly flicked his head toward the village. You bowed your head, your hand slipping down Neteyam’s arm to grasp his large hand, pulling him toward the village. As you walked in silence, you couldn’t help but note the roughness of his hands, feeling the calluses forming at the base of his fingers from his years of climbing and hunting in the forest. 
“Why did you take the blame?” Neteyam asked as you ushered him into the healing marui. You pushed him to sit down, quickly moving to find the things you needed to clean the cut on his lip and tend to the bruise on his chest and jaw. 
“It is easier,” you huffed, “I have a way with my father, he would have let me off easy. I was trying to do what is best for my brother and for your family, Neteyam,” you didn’t mean for it to sound as harsh as it did. 
“But what about what is best for you?” he asked, confused by your thinking. You grabbed some cloth and salves from your mothers collection, ignoring Neteyam’s question as you moved around the marui with urgency– you were frustrated and angry; annoyed that your brother keeps getting himself into trouble, annoyed that he won’t take accountability when he does something wrong, and annoyed that Neteyam wouldn’t let you just take the blame for it. 
Neteyam grabbed your wrist gently, stopping your angry pacing. Your chest was heavy, rising and falling rapidly as you tried to just breathe through your anger, “this is not about what I want,” you muttered, feeling hot tears forming in your eyes.
“It was not fair,” he replied softly as you wiped a tear from your cheek. “I…” he watched you for a moment, his heart aching at the sight of your tears, he stood up, gently resting a hand on your shoulder as he glanced at the side of your face, “please, do not cry.”
You sniffled softly, wiping your face with the back of your hand before turning to him with your salves, some water and a cloth, “I am fine,” you mumbled, “sit down, I’ll fix the cut on your lip.”
Neteyam hesitantly sat down, face still etched with worry as you got to work, gently rubbing an ointment into his chest over the purple bruise. It looked like it hurt, yet he was more concerned about you and your crying. You could feel his eyes on you as you worked, doing your best to ignore his breathtaking eyes as you cleaned the dried blood and sand from his chest and shoulders.
“Your hand,” Neteyam whispered. You paused for a moment before looking at your knuckles decorated with purple bruises.
“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt,” you whispered back, grabbing at Neteyam’s jaw to inspect the cut on his lip. Neteyam was much taller than you, his lean figure towering over you when you both stood together, but even when he was sitting he was only mere inches shorter. 
You felt Neteyam’s hand wrap around your wrist with the bruised knuckles, pulling it away from his face to look at it. While he has no real healing experience, leaving that to his grandmother and sister, he still wanted to make sure you were okay. He stared at your bruises with such worry, as if he wasn’t literally bleeding in front of you. 
You used your other hand to tip his jaw back to look at you, finally catching his eyes, “Neteyam, I promise you, I am fine. You are the one that is bleeding.”
Neteyam huffed out a sigh, “yes, I know but–”
You gently put your hand over his mouth to shut him up, laughing softly, “I sneak out to train with one of the warriors in the village. That is why my punishment is looking out for you and your siblings,” you whispered, his eyes staring so intently at you, “I have broken my own nose trying to use a spear on a bag of sand, this–,” you lifted your hand, “–is nothing.”
You pulled your hand away from his mouth, reaching for your wet cloth to begin cleaning the blood off his slightly swollen lip. Neteyam stared at you fondly, pondering your confession, “you broke your own nose using a spear?”
“Do not ask,” you shook your head, laughing softly. You fell into a comfortable silence as you gently cleaned Neteyam’s face, your hand gently cradling his jaw. You noticed how he stared at you, a little smile tugging at his lips. You felt your face heat under his gaze, laughing nervously, “what?”
“You are beautiful,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper. You felt your eyes widen, never having been complimented with such sincerity. You paused your movements, unable to function for a moment. Neteyam stood slowly, his head craning to look at you. He swore your eyes were the most beautiful he had ever seen, dazzling and bright, matching the colour of the crystal clear reefs your clan held dear. He slowly brought his hand up to cup your jaw, your breath hitching in your throat. “May… May I kiss you?”
You felt your eyes widen a fraction, your lips parting as a nervous breath squeezed past. You didn’t know what to do or to say, you had never been this close to anyone before, especially a boy you had grown to enjoy the company of. A smile tugged at your lips as Neteyam’s eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes, “I… I think I would like that,” you whispered.
Neteyam’s smile was unmatched. You could feel his breath fanning over your face as he leaned in closer, your eyes instinctively fluttering shut– taking in the delightful silence around you, only listening to the sound of his breathing and the beating of your own heart.
You felt your heart begin to race as his lips grazed yours and–
“Sister! Are you okay, I heard from– Oh.” You and Neteyam leapt away from each other, you quickly coughed awkwardly while Neteyam tried to look like was doing something other than what your sister just caught you doing. “I’m– I’m sorry, I’ll uh, I’ll come back later,” Tsireya smiled awkwardly, bumping into a table in the marui then finally finding the doorway and leaving.
You quickly turned to Neteyam, “I should… I should go check on her,” you said awkwardly.
Neteyam scratched the back of his neck, “yeah, of course. I should go see my parents anyway– hope they haven’t skinned my brother yet–”
“Right, yeah,” you said sheepishly. The two of you stood there staring at each other for a moment before you bowed your head, your lips forming a tight line as you scooted past him toward the doorway. Way to ruin a moment, Reya. 
You paused in the doorway, wanting to give him something before you left. You quickly turned back, his eyes wide as you approached him again. You stood up on your tiptoes, one hand gently holding his face as you planted a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t wait for him to react before you bowed your head and left, determined to find your sister before she babbled.
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a/n: damn, so close
taglist: @s0urw00lf, @peqch-pie, @greatsstuffsposts, @lavzxx, @quaint-and-curious-being
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