#I can’t tell how much of it is tied to the fact that I finally broke away from the friend group that always made me feel subordinate

[conspiring-limabean]

I had spent years wanting nothing more than to get out of the place I used to live and move back up north and just rotting in a pool of depression because of how much that place fucking sucks, and when I finally got the chance to move back up north I like. Told myself not to hype it up too much because it isn’t going to fix everything, there’s other problems in my life that I’m going to have to work on still and I was really worried I would move to the new place and still be depressed but this time have no more scapegoat “this will fix me if I can get there” solution to hang onto because now I’ve achieved the thing I had always told myself would fix my depression. but like. no i was right. I’ve been here a few months, more than enough time for depressive phases to come and go and my mental state is so much infinitely better here. Like I actually want to go outside. I actually enjoy looking out the window. the bad thoughts still appear as I know they always will but fighting them off is so much fucking easier. The depression doesn’t stay when it comes knocking. There are still the few other life problems I know I need to solve but now I actually have the self confidence to try to do so instead of wallowing in untamable anxiety afraid of heading anywhere else because I might do it wrong

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your bestfriend, satoru, sends your cheating boyfriend a rather explicit video of the two of you as revenge.

tags. best friend!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. dōggy style. dirty talk. crēampie. reader gets called ‘pretty, angel, baby’. cheating. consensual fīlming. anon req.

“mmshiit, should’ve fucked you long time ago,” satoru hisses, his hips stuttering against the plump flesh of your ass. he’s unable to stop himself now that he’s got his pretty best friend underneath him—in a sinful position he has only had wet dreams of.

one moment you’re crying because of your cheating boyfriend and the next you’re getting your guts rearranged by your bestfriend who comforted you through it all.

your mascara stains satoru’s pillow, your drool doing the exact same. you’re acting like a total slut for his cock, mewling for him to give you more, to give it to you faster and harder. all of which is caught on tape.

“yeah? want more, baby?” satoru coos as he holds up your phone with one hand. his other one is gripping the side of your hip—keeping your ass perked up so he can continue hitting that right spot inside of your greedy cunt. the white-haired man snickers behind the camera, “c’mon—tell your boyfriend just how much y’ need your best friend’s cock.”

you know satoru’s filming himself hitting it from the back. it’s nasty, but it only serves to excite you. you know your ‘boyfriend’ will be enraged once he receives the erotic video from you. he’s never liked satoru neither, always preventing you two from meeting each other. which was a red flag by itself.

you’ll show that hypocritical bastard.

“need more, ‘toru, please—” you babble, your voice muffled by the pillow. your body jerks with each hard thrust. every move is made with precision, with the intention of pleasuring you until your insides remember the shape of his dick only, “fuckk, ‘tis too big.”

satoru grins smugly. you’re basically admitting that he’s way bigger than that excuse of a man you’re dating. his ego gets a huge boost and it shows when he drives his throbbing cock deeper into your tight cunt.

“awwh, i know, but i bet my sweet girl can take it,” your best friend encourages you through a raspy voice. the fact that he called you his ‘sweet girl’ drives you insane. your pussy squeezes around his cock in response.

satoru’s eyes nearly roll back from the way you’re gripping him. he moves his other hand around your hips until his fingertips find your clitoris. he over stimulates you until you’re crying of pleasure.

you end up clenching around his fat dick even more. it feels like you’re trying to snap his cock in half with how much you’re sucking him in. there’s not a chance of it slipping out of you.

satoru moans loudly without any shame, letting both you and your boyfriend - who’d watch the video later - know how much he enjoys pounding your cunt like it’s actually his; “y’re so fucking tight. you sure your boyfriend’s been fucking you?”

you feel embarrassed by how much you’re enjoying his dirty talk. satoru’s drilling his cock into you so well to the point that you’ve forgotten all about the intimacy you shared with your cheating boyfriend. it was nothing compared to how satoru is treating you right this moment.

the white-haired man continues, still not believing that he’s finally living out his dreams. your body is heaven to him. satoru can’t help but whimper at the feeling your pussy sucking him in so desperately, “feels like your pussy hasn’t had any dick in a good while.”

the way you’re basically screaming into the pillow is enough evidence to confirm that your boyfriend has never fucked you properly at all. that delicious arch of your back, that ass of yours bouncing back on his pelvis in circles. . . satoru just knows it.

you hiccup and try to speak. you know your boyfriend is going to see the video and that only drives you to be more vocal than you already are. you’re going to get revenge and you’re going to make it as painful as possible.

“y-yeah,” you agree with satoru’s words. your words are basically slurred—too cockdrunk to properly talk. you lift your head up for a second to breathe and continue your whiny babbling between moans, “he’s n-never fucked me as well as you—ngh!”

your voice is perfect. everything about you is. satoru isn’t sure if he’ll even last long like this. he wants to claim you as his girl already. he wants to thrust his cum as deep as he can inside of you so you’ll only think of him.

“poor, poor baby,” satoru pouts and rubs your ass gently as he watches it bounce back at him with every thrust. the view is hypnotising. he cannot grasp the fact that your boyfriend fumbled such an amazing girl like you, “it’s okay. i’ll make it up to ya, mhm? i’ll treat you like a real man would.”

you nod and whimper in agreement, which gives satoru the green light. you’re going to be his at the end of this session. he’s going to claim you as his—finally—after all those years.

you feel yourself start to tremble. you feel tingly all over and your moans are getting louder. the curve in satoru’s dick is making your mind go blank. it makes his tip hit the deepest spots inside you, the right spots. you’re desperately searching for that sweet release.

“aht, aht, angel,” satoru clicks his tongue whilst deepening the arch of your back. his fingers trace the shape of your spine, feeling you shiver from the touch as he pounds you silly. “hold it in, yeah? need you to cum for me when i do. wanna fill this cunt to the brim.”

you try to hold on the best you can. after a couple more thrusts, satoru’s breath turns shaky and his noises turn into whimpers—a sign that he’s on the edge, “fuck fuck fuck fuck! baby- ‘m gnna cum!”

you gasp and your body spasms and squirms as you reach your climax at the exact same time. you feel your cunt being flood with spurts of semen. it’s so much—as if satoru’s been storing all of it just for you.

“there there. such a good girl,” satoru sighs and pulls out of you after making sure that you’ve settled down. he takes his dick out as slowly as possible, pointing the camera right at the lewd sight. his entire length is coated with a mixture of your slick and his white cum.

you shiver at the feeling of being left empty. satoru soothes you by pushing his cum back into your pussy with two long fingers. he films the entire process, focusing on your stuffed hole for a few seconds before putting the phone up.

satoru points the back camera at the both of you, getting the entire view of the messy bed. he grins and puts a peace sign up—ending the video with a mocking yet cold smile that’s directed to the man who’s going to be watching this video soon, “should’ve treated her better.”

oh, your boyfriend is going to be fuming. deserved..

[httpsserene]

Lando smut driveroom after hia dnf🫠🫠

𝐝𝐧𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬

summary: what goes down in their driver’s room with you after a dnf. content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. hurt/comfort (in a way). sexual propositions. angry sex (implied). depressed charles. mercedes f1 team slander. sir kink. periods. face-sitting, vaginal sex, masturbation, voyeurism, blowjobs, cunnilingus, shower sex (light or implied). pairing: the grid x fem!reader (1,4,16,44,55,81) genre: drabbles.

from serene: river baby, this one’s for you xxx we all know what inspired this one lmao !!! oh, i will not be doing extended fics for any of these, they are just quick drabbles as a little writing exercise for me! (okay, okay, okay, fine i’ll finish toasty part two i promise it'll be released soon)

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𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐚𝐱 #𝟏

You’ve never found Max’s skill for talking endlessly annoying or draining. In fact, you can recall telling him that hearing him eagerly explain about racing or other topics that interest him is attractive, multiple times. However, you’re not sure if you can withstand much more of him rambling through a retelling of every single lap he raced before he had to retire, looking for any possible point where he could’ve done something different to prevent it. 

The two of you are sitting on his small couch, pressed side to side, and you’re offering small nods of agreement and hums of understanding during his pauses between words that echo in the small private room. His helmet was shoved in a random cubby, his balaclava draped on top of it but, he hasn’t made any other progress in taking off his race gear. His gloves are still covering his hands as he fiddles with the straps around his wrists, his race suit and boots still properly secured, the smell of sweat and gasoline–the scent of man alluring to your nose–the heat of his body radiating against your side instigating the warmth that floods your cheeks, and the sound of his lisp curling seductively around his speech prompting less than pure thoughts as your heart flutters and thighs press together.

Max is unaware of the sudden twist in your thoughts as he verbally attempts to calculate just exactly where he could’ve improved his outcome, his voice rumbly with an undertone of displeasure, when you cut him off.

“Let me make it better,” you offer.

The Dutch driver cocks his head at you, his expression confused and humored, “How can you make my DNF better? I do not think you can go back in time and—”

“No, Max,” you interrupt, teeth tugging at your bottom lip gently, “Let me sit on your face.”

Visibly, you see his breath catch and eyes widen. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to formulate a response, tongue flicking out to dampen his lips as he thinks—before his pupils blow large, and he swallows audibly.

“Oh,” Max starts, finally tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the floor, then moving to undo the strap of his race suit, “That would make it better.”

𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 #𝟒

He’s pacing the small length of the room angrily, ranting about his retirement loudly enough that you know it’s seeping through the thin walls. You stare at him with a slightly concerned gaze, getting slightly annoyed as his race suit tied low on his hips threatens to smack you in the face every time he turns around. 

You’re well aware that Lando is quick to anger and brood as he freely makes everyone aware of where the blame needs to be placed. But, the dark and unyielding look in his eyes leads you to believe that he’ll be a little too real to the press today and you would hate to have to deal with a simultaneously enraged and ashamed Lando once he realizes what he said. Then, you’ll have to comfort him as he overthinks his words and doom scrolls through Twitter to see what people are saying about him. You would like to sleep tonight, so you can’t have him embarrass himself today. Thankfully, Lando’s a man, a very simple man at his core. 

You stand up from the couch and pull off his hoodie that you stole. Lando continues to rage and pace, not aware of your movement. You undo the buttons of your shirt, shrugging it off to stand in your bra and jeans. Lando doesn’t notice your state of undress until he spins around to find you topless and shimmying your jeans down your hips.

“Um,” Lando stutters, eyes fixed on your tits, “Why are your clothes off?”

“Get over here and fuck your anger out,” you command, “So when you talk to the press, you don’t say the stupid shit you're telling me now.”

Lando mumbles and pouts offended as he scrambles to lose his race suit, “‘s not stupid shit.”

You roll your eyes and reach out to tug him forward strongly, humming as the length of his body knocks against yours, easily stuffing your hand down his fireproofs and kissing on the meat of his neck, “mhm–I’m sure it isn’t.”

𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 #𝟏𝟔

The room is silent as Charles blankly stares at the wall, you’re not sure if he is aware of your hand comfortingly scratching along his back. He only offered words of exhaustion and depression as he slipped quietly into his room and curled next to you as he dissociated from his retirement.

You’ve tried everything. You cooed soothingly, you complained about the result, and you even loudly expressed how terrible you think the car and Ferrari are and he didn’t say a single word. He simply continued to stare at the wall, his suit and helmet still on, visor down, and expression unreadable. Anxiously, you shifted next to him, not used to experiencing Charles this out of it. And suddenly, the idea came to you. Breaking the silence, you suggested giving him head to relieve his stress. Charles said no. Your brow furrowed perplexed at his denial; he’s never rejected a blowjob before. You took it one step further and offered to let him fuck it out of you (you were previously adamant on the “no sex in the driver’s room” rule because sound carries), and you were sure the Monegasque was about to say yes before he shook his head violently like he was forcibly removing the thought, and mumbled something along the lines of, “I don’t deserve it.” 

That is something you will not let slide. Charles doesn’t need to punish himself after he’s already out of the race, but if he won’t allow himself to indulge in you, you’ll strongly encourage him to.

“Okay, Charlie,” you whisper, “If you’re sure.”

He doesn’t zone back in until he hears your whimpers seep into the air, snapping his head to look at you. He finds you with one hand tugging at your nipple and your other hand shoved under your skirt—from the movement, he can guess that you’re two fingers deep. You hear Charles choke audibly and you can’t help but toss your head back and giggle, the laughter turning into a moan of pleasure as your fingers pass over a sensitive spot.

“I-I think–merde,” Charles cuts himself off as he stares at your show, “I think I’ve changed my mind.”

The helmet stays on.

𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧, 𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬 #𝟒𝟒

You’re unsure if Lewis is even mad about his retirement. The man seems mentally deranged as he laughs gleefully about ending his race early. Understandably, he is complaining about the bottoming of the car and the hell it’s wreaking on his back–so, maybe the joy is justifiable, your man is…older.

The thing is, Lewis switches from rambling about his back pain to complaining about Mercedes and repeating how he can’t wait for a change in scenery at Ferrari. In the Mercedes motorhome. Loudly. You know he’s doing it on purpose based on the vengeful look in his eyes. He recalls almost every single moment the team dismissed his critiques and suggestions, every single moment they didn’t appear at his podiums, every single moment they thought he wouldn’t leave, every single moment they took him for granted. And, Lewis is more than welcome to express his grievances—but you would still like him to leave on good terms as Toto did promise you a custom G-Wagon (not that Lewis can’t get you one himself; you would just hate to see him ruin his connections).

Lewis also can’t help being hot. He sits comfortably splayed out on his couch, a towel tied loosely on his hips from his shower, chest bare as beads of water fall downwards and get caught in the maze of his toned abdomen, his tattoos become art pieces as you appreciate the sight fully. He continues to partake in his amusing one-man conversation as he clasps his chain around his neck—and you break.

“Let me suck your dick,” you blurt out, cheeks flushing, surprised at your own words, “...sir?”

Lewis pauses, raising an eyebrow at you from where you’re leaning on the room door. 

“Well, I don’t know why you’re still standing over there if that’s what you want. Kneel.”

The sound of your knees hitting the floor sings in the air, “Yes, sir.”

𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢, 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 #𝟖𝟏

Oscar’s already sequestered himself away in his room before you were able to intercept him on his way. The mechanics are lowly gossiping about how mad he was when he pulled himself out of the car and they watch after you in fear as you make your way to your boyfriend.

Oscar? Mad? He’d never take it out on you, there’s no reason for the mechanics to be worried. Except when you enter the room, the vibes are peculiar. Oscar’s calmly folding his race suit, boots tucked away into their proper place, standing in just his fireproofs—they compliment his body well, extremely well. He turns to look at you and there’s a smile on his face as if he hasn’t retired from a race. He opens his arms for a hug, and you hesitate for a moment before fulfilling his request. His arms wrap around you warmly and he nuzzles his face into your hair, pulling back briefly to press a kiss on your forehead before tightening his embrace. It feels more like he’s comforting you than you’re comforting him. He walks the two of you backward to his couch and pulls you down to sit on his lap. 

Somehow, Oscar brightens more, “Hi, baby,” he grins, hands moving to fiddle with the hem of your shirt.

“Uhh, I’m sorry about your race?” Your tone of voice is unsure.

“Oh,” he laughs dismissively, “It happens sometimes–it was listed in the job description.” His right hand slips underneath your shirt as he speaks, moving calmly to tug the cups of your bra down underneath your chest, squeezing lightly at the plush weight in his hand. 

You’re convinced he’s severely concussed, but it doesn’t stop you from arching towards him, your hips rolling forward unconsciously, “Ummm— ‘s there a-anything I can do to help?”

Oscar’s hand draws out of your shirt and halts the grind of your hips in a flash, he coos at you, “Aw, that’s so sweet of you to offer…let me fuck your tits—please?”

What were you going to do, tell him no?

𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫, 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 #𝟓𝟓

You’re going to slam your head on the corner of the sink and hope it knocks you out. You’ll do it if means the sounds of Carlos’ whining stop. He forcibly pulled you up on the counter of the sink and told you to stay put as he showered so he could talk it out to you.

Naively, you thought the sound of the shower running would muffle his words and you were wrong. On any other day, you would be fine to support him through his complaints but your period is due to start in a couple of days and the irritation and sore muscles are already affecting you. Originally, you were eager to watch Carlos shower—that’s a sight plenty of women and men alike would kill you for. Then, the glass fogged with steam depriving you of something to ogle. And, if there’s one thing a woman is experiencing besides pain, sensitivity, and anger before her period, it’s being horny. You rationalize your thought process as you get undressed; Carlos gets some stress relief and you get to hear moans and grunts of pleasure instead of his huffing, grumbling, and whining. 

You slide the glass door open and closed as you step in the shower, completely bare except for the necklaces, earrings, and anklet with the #55 charm he gifted you randomly, “Carlos, por favor, be quiet.”

The Spanish man’s mouth is agape as he stares at you, frozen in the middle of his motion of scrubbing soap along his arm, “¿Qué?”

You roll your eyes, tugging the soapy cloth out of his hand and setting it on the shower shelf, “There’s better things you could be doing with your mouth.”

Carlos blinks, returning to the present and sinking to his knees in the too-small shower. 

He stares up at you with his big, sweet, lust-drenched, brown eyes, his hair a mess from the spray of the shower, and his voice cracking as he speaks, “Yes, definitely.”

© httpsserene2024

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY

☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!

☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s

☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀

RHYSAND

“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”

“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”

Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead

He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.

“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.

“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight

Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.

Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.

“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”

He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy

In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban

The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.

“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer

Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…

YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹

ERIS

“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”

He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.

“Is that so?”

You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.

“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”

You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.

Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated

And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.

But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house

You are a mess. An absolute mess

You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.

The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time

When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.

When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired

When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.

After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.

“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in

“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.

“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”

He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses

“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”

You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed

“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head

AZRIEL

“Okay.”

That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.

But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered

In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside

Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most

So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist

He sluts around the house

Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out

Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.

Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.

He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.

Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.

You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.

CASSIAN

Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.

Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.

“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”

Tha man is flabbergasted

He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that

Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it

He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban

Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch

A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.

An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.

Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.

No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together

After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.

You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day

Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really

When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom

Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days

Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr

LUCIEN

Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate

“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.

You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.

Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.

“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.

He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.

“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”

You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.

“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”

You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile

“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.

He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good

Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work

🏷️: @thelov3lybookworm @redbleedingrose @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @rowaelinsdaughter @artists-ally @berryzxx @aroseinvelaris @cupidojenphrodite @jeannineee @daycourtofficial

[cinnudelx]

Okay imagine this catws Steve Rogers x hydra agent reader where he kept her as hostage to answer questions, and Steve being kinda dummy doesn’t know reader cutting her rope with a pocket knife as she know jumps on him sitting near his dick as it hardens and the rest is up to you

thank you for your request!! i hope you enjoy <33

Hostage 🎀

pairing: tws!steve rogers x hydra agent!reader

summary: steve needs to know what HYDRA is hiding. luckily you fell right into his lap (literally) and he kept you as hostage for an interrogation, determined to get answers but you had something else in mind.

warnings: smut smut smut!! mentions of reader being tied up, explicit language, clothed grinding, degrading names such as slut, dirty, but also some praise, spanking, tit!obsessed steve, steve talking you through it, riding, doggy style. MINORS DNI!

w.c: 1.8k

a.n: i had sm fun writing this. something about catws does things to meee

with a groan, your eyes slowly blinked open, taking in your surroundings. there you were, bound to a chair, arms tied behind you in a dimly lit room, steve rogers shield propped up against the wall in front of you. it was hard to make out exactly where you were but all you knew was that you were still on that damn ship, caught during one of your missions with HYDRA.

the door suddenly opened, revealing none other than steve himself, taking his helmet off. “good. you’re finally awake.” he grumbled, shutting the door and walking up to you.

steve stopped a couple steps in front of you after tossing his helmet to the floor, staring you down as he noticed so many thoughts running through your head that you’re not even phased by him.

“what were you and your team doing here?” steve asks firmly, titling your chair back to look into your eyes.

you clenched your jaw as your eyes glared into his, clearly displaying the fact you’re stubborn and will never release information just like that.

he smirked coldly, tilting your chair back even more. “you gotta start talking before i do something i’m not supposed to, agent. you know i can’t let you go til you say somethin’.”

you stared back at him, feeling your pocketknife strapped inside your sleeve. it was laughable, honestly, how easy this situation was to get out of. you subtly reached your hand into your sleeve. “cap, if you really think i’ve got loose lips, you’ve got another thing coming.” you grinned, challenging him, successfully catching your knife behind your back.

steve nodded, clenching his jaw. “okay.” he nodded again, reaching back and grabbing his shield. you couldn’t help but think how hot he looked frustrated. it was so wrong, but you wanted to see more.

he suddenly pressed the edge of his shield to the front of your neck, one hand on the shield and the other on the back of your chair as he intimidatingly searched your eyes, “start talking, agent. i haven’t got all day.”

little did he know, you were already cutting yourself free, so subtly he couldn’t see or hear a thing. “well, if you must know, we’re not really fond of you guys. you and your little group. what do you call yourselves again? the… um…” you pretended to think of the name, trying to waste as much seconds as possible.

steve pressed his shield harder against your neck, a vein popping out on his forearm. “agent, m’not fucking around. what are you and your team looking for.” he gritted out, his eyes darkening.

you winced slightly. yep, that definitely drew blood. “okay, okay. i’ll tell you. just—“

you let out a coughing breath as he pulled away his shield slightly. finally you were going to talk, he thought.

or were you.

the moment you freed yourself, you smirked, pushing away his shield forcefully as it fell to the floor. steve’s eyes widened as you lunged at him, straddling him on the floor as he fell. he struggled under your strong grasp as you held him down, tilting your head. “you know, you really need to work on interrogation. you didn’t even pat me down or anything while i was knocked out.” you smirked.

he clenched his jaw, realising his mistake. he was new to this interrogation thing. matter of fact, it was his first.

steve gripped your hips, trying to pull you away but you grabbed his wrists, pinning them to his sides and shifting your position on him swiftly, causing your core to brush off his clothed cock.

what came next made you and steve’s eyes widen. he let out a moan.

you looked down, a smirk growing back on your lips as you noticed his rock hard bulge. he struggled harder under your hold but you knew he wasn’t using his full strength. he could easily throw you across the room if he wanted to but something deep down wanted you to stay on top of him.

another fact was that you could feel your panties start to soak through. it was his fault. his stupid fucking moan and that goddamn hard on.

you didn’t know what to do but steve beat you to it, his hands reaching for your hips to pull you off but you grabbed his hands that were placed on your hips, grinding your core against his hard on once more to test the waters, your eyes searching his.

and there it was, another moan. god he was so sensitive.

“wh-what are you doing…?” he strained, his jaw clenched and his grip on your hips tightening.

“what are you doing?” you breathed out, the both of you secretly liking this.

he hissed, looking down at the place where your bodies met. “shit…” he breathed out, mostly to himself.

you gave him another roll of your hips, your lips parting slightly. “steve…” you gave him a look of uncertainty, moaning out his name quietly.

his mind was numb, couldn’t think of anything else but the fact your grinding against his clothed hard cock. “fuck- ngh-“ he growled, gripping your hips harder. “god… w-we shouldn’t do this.”

“yeah, i-i know..” you moaned softly, continuing your movements nonetheless.

“fuck it.” he grunted as he pushed you down to his thighs slightly before zipping his cock out of his suit, “you started this. now take off those fucking pants and ride me.”

your heart almost leapt out of your goddamn throat. holy fucking shit.

you couldn’t even think straight, your hands already fiddling with your pants as he started stroking his cock, watching you throw your pants to the floor. you almost let out a moan at the sight of him. he was propped up on one elbow, the other hand pumping his cock. as your pussy hovered over him, you pulled your panties to the side, your breathing becoming more laboured.

“open.” he reached up, the pads of his fingers against your plump lips. without thinking, you parted your lips, allowing his fingers to enter your mouth. you moaned as your tongue swirled around his digits, getting them nice and wet. “good girl.” he praised with a groan before taking his fingers out and stuffing them inside your pussy, causing you to double over him.

“s-steve-“

“shhhh… you wanted this. i don’t wanna hear it.” he hushed you, finger fucking you slowly before taking his fingers out and coating your pussy juices on his cock, stroking himself before gripping the base of his length. “cmon, ride my cock. show me how much you wanted this.”

you didn’t even need to be asked twice, already finding yourself sinking down on his cock. the both of you let out a soft gasp and moan at the sensation. he spilt you open with his thick girth, bottoming out immediately thanks to how soaked you are.

he propped himself up on both his elbows, watching you sit on his cock. “dirty fucking girl. look at you.” he growled as you started to ride him, soft moans and whimpers escaping your lips. you were so confident going into this but once you actually had this thing going, you couldn’t help but enjoy the way he was degrading you. “show me those tits, baby. take em out.”

he groaned as you pulled your shirt up, your bra-less tits spilling out as your shirt remained rolled up above your breasts. you started rocking your hips, picking up the pace.

“s-steve, mmmh, y-you- mmm…”

“what? drunk on my cock already? cmon. use your words like a big girl.” he grunted out, watching his cock disappear into your tight cunt.

fuck.

“y-your so big-“ you moaned out, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. “shit…”

he hummed darkly with a deep groan. “yeah, bet you fucking like that, don’t you? such a good, filthy girl.“

your pussy fluttered at his degradation, tightening around him as you quickened your pace, bouncing on his cock. “oh my god.” you moaned uncontrollably, throwing your head back, already feeling the pressure build up.

he sat up fully, taking one of your tits into his mouth as he grabbed your ass, giving it a firm spank.

“oh, fuck! steve!” you moaned out, bouncing on his cock faster.

he growled, guiding your hips up and down on his painfully hard cock. “so dirty. look at that. soaking my cock when i call you filthy things and slap that ass, huh? you like that?” he slapped your ass again before gripping it firmly with a moan as he felt himself approaching the edge.

“god, yes. oh fuck, p-please.” you whined out a moan, his lips enveloping your tit again, his hand on your other one kneading it and pinching your nipple.

“no respect for yourself, huh? you’re caught here with me and all you can think of is this cock. fucking slut.” he grunted, pulling you off his lap and positioning you on all fours.

he pushed your upper back down as you perked up your ass. gripping your ass firmly with one hand as the other slipped his cock back into your dripping pussy, he landed another smack against your ass.

“mmh, fuck! yes!” you groaned out, moaning uncontrollably as he slammed his hips into you at a bruising pace, making you see stars. “steve, don’t stop. i’m gonna fucking cum.” you panted out, arching your back.

“hold it.” he demanded, gripping your hips tighter as he slammed into you. the sound of your moans, his grunts, skin slapping against skin and squelches filling the room.

“i-i can’t. fuck, it’s too much.” you cried out, moaning almost pornographically before he snaked a hand around your thigh and pressed his fingers against your clit, rubbing it in circular motions.

“be good for me and hold it. i know you can. cmon.” he grunted, gritting his teeth as he pounded into you, nearing his release.

after a few more moments, he pulled away from your clit, gripping your ass tightly and landing a loud smack before starting to slam into you at an animalistic pace.

your eyes widened, your moans growing louder as your ass stung, your climax nearing soon.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” he gritted his teeth, his grip on your ass becoming painfully tight, “cum for me, baby. now.”

with that, your thighs immediately trembled as you came around him with a loud, shaky moan of his name. your pussy clenched and fluttered around him, causing him groan loudly, pulling out and pumping his cock ferociously over your ass, painting your skin with his thick ropes of seemingly endless cum.

“fuck…” he panted, taking off one of his gloves and using it to wipe his cum off your back. he tucked himself back into his pants, standing up with satisfied sigh as he zipped himself up.

you sat up against the wall, panting as you looked up at him, your cheeks flushed. he crouched down, tilting his head with a smirk, knowing that he’s finally got you all fucked-out and vulnerable.

“now. let’s try this again.” he leaned forward, his hand bunching your hair into his fist. “what is HYDRA doing here.”

[nomazee]

“This is unnecessary.”

At Blade’s snide comment, you pull sharply at the strands of his hair in your hands. He grunts in displeasure before obediently quieting down, only a little scared of you scalping him if he annoys you any further. 

Perched behind him on the couch while he sits on the floor, your hands find themselves coming through his hair (long, smooth, untangled despite the fact that you’ve never seen him take a brush to it). Your efforts to part his hair with just your fingers are fruitless. His hair is thick on the top, so much so that you’re surprised his neck doesn’t constantly ache with the weight of it. Your hands pause, resting on the top of his head while you try and figure out how you’ll style it. 

“Be nice,” you warn, two hands on the sides of his head tilting it from side to side, treating him as a foam mannequin on which you can project your very thorough cosmetology skills. “Your fate is quite literally in my hands. I could knock you out and shave you bald very easily.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says earnestly, and you can’t help the way your lips twinge into a smile. “This is clearly a hassle. My hair looks fine the way it is.”

“It does,” you admit, “but wouldn’t it be nice to try something new? And at no cost to you, aside from mild scalp pain. I’m good at hair. I did Kafka’s that one time.” You fail to mention that it was only one time for good reason. Kafka said that you handle hair the same way a lobster would handle a violin—that is, with clumsy hands and a clear lack of refinement. She had to hide every pair of scissors from you in fear that you'd give Silver Wolf microbangs.

As if on cue, your fingers get caught in an unexpected snag in Blade’s hair, and you pull and tug and yank as if expecting it to untangle on its own. Blade hisses and reaches a hand back to smack you on the wrist, turning around to glare at you. 

“Watch it,” he orders, gentle but firm. There’s not enough heat in his words to scare you, and his eyes are a particularly beautiful shade of copper in the dim, flickering light of this dingy lounge room. Whatever you say, beautiful, you think to yourself hysterically. 

After a few half-willed apologies from you and some nudges of encouragement, Blade finally relaxes enough to turn back around and tilt his head back in your lap, letting your fingers play with his hair nonsensically. A braid, you decide, would look quite nice on him. One long one down the back. If you had ribbon, you’d use some to tie his hair, but all you have is one of Kafka’s tragically thin hair ties. 

“It’s a nice color,” you comment absentmindedly, pretending that you can’t see the way Blade’s eyes have shut in contentment at your gentle prodding. “It changes in the light a little bit. It looks very blue now, but I’ve always thought it was black.” You section his hair off into three pieces, loosely laying one over the other over and over again. The aged gold ornament still hangs securely in his hair, and you don’t do anything to move it. It suits him. 

“It’s natural, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he tells you, the slightest twinge of a joke in his voice. It plays at your smile and at your heart, too. 

“You say that now, but you’ll be scrambling to come up with a lie when I find box dye in your bag.” 

He only hums in response, reluctantly enjoying the feeling of your hands on him—they’re gentle, and you can imagine he’s not quite used to this. It’s an addictive feeling, to have him at your mercy, even with just your hands in his hair. There’s trust, unspoken, lingering warmly in the air and settling like condensation on your skin. You could very easily do a number of things that would hurt Blade—kill him, almost. You’ve only ever thought of it a few times, and those were all a very long time ago. 

You don’t think of it that often anymore. All you’re paying attention to is Blade and the splitting ends of his hair and how nice he’d look with a red ribbon tied in. 

“We should go shopping,” you tell him, voice close to a whisper now. You’ve secured the end of his braid already, and your handiwork is admirable. The strands are neatly crossed over each other, uniform in size with each other as they taper down into the end. “Some clips for you would be nice.” Absentmindedly, you comb through the layers of hair near his face, digging your fingers gently into the sides of his face and scratching at his scalp. 

“And where exactly would we go shopping? We’re not exactly upstanding members of society in some people’s eyes.” 

“Then I’ll make clips for you,” you say, a naive kind of dedication in your tone. “I used to work with metal, a little bit. I could make jewelry. Ornaments for your hair. I’ll put a ribbon in next time.” 

“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” Blade asks doubtfully, in steep contrast with the way he lets your hands roam along his scalp, and the way his head leans back into you as if he’s comfortable. 

“You’re a loyal customer,” you quip, “you’d never let somebody else do your hair when you have me as a dedicated stylist.” 

“I’m your only customer.” 

“I know,” and in a moment of weakness—because at the end of the day that’s what you are, weak, malleable and moveable when you’re with Blade like this—you lean down just a little bit, pressing a stupid clumsy kiss on the crown of his head. Your fingers trail down to trace the bumps of the braid, the divots and grooves in it, made by your hands, and yours alone. “That just means I can put all my effort towards you alone.” 

“You shouldn’t.” And he means it when he says that, and it hurts you, puts a sickly pang in your chest that you want to reach for and tear out before it grows into something worse. 

“But I will,” you tell him. Blade is stubborn, but not stubborn enough to keep it up. Not now, not here, not when the overhead lights are flickering and making his hair look just a little bluer, illuminating the warmer ends of his hair, glinting off the metal ornament still clipped into it. He rests between your hands, still sitting on the cold floor, pretending that he isn’t falling asleep with you like the fool he secretly is.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

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[vinomino]

Mess

You can’t tell whose the bigger mess, you or your big brother…

Featuring: Takiishi Chika x F!reader

Contents: dark content mdni 18+, incest, bigbrother!Chika x lilsis!reader, corruption, somnophilia, creampies, marathon sex, cum eating, basically nasty freak things

WC: 1.4K

Continuation → Here

Takiishi Chika didn’t care about anything, but himself. That was what Endo believed until he met you. He caught sight of Takiishi, running over to greet him, but saw you wrapped around Takiishi’s arm, the man didn’t shake you off or hit you, in fact he leaned into your touch.

That had Endo wondering who in the world you were. How there was actually something— someone the man he admired cared about. A deep jealousy filled his stomach, as he silently tailed Takiishi and you.

“Chika-nii! Look, I got my nails done!” You’re giggling, showcasing to him your freshly manicured nails. It’s true your big brother was a mess, but he always took care of you to the point of doting.

Your parents told Chika that he had to watch over you and protect you as your big brother. One of the only people he had in his heart, his darling sister.

“It’s pretty.” He spoke after glancing down at your gel nails. “Hehe, right Chika-nii? Maybe I should go with red next time…like your hair. Thank you for paying Nii-chan.” Standing on your tippy-toes to press a kiss against his cheek. His orange eyes mirroring yours.

“Hey Takiishi~!” Endo finally approaches you two. “Hmm, I didn’t know ya had a lil sis!” Endo laughs out. You look up at your brother, “Chika-nii, who is he?”

“Nobody.” Chika blankly states, wrapping a hand around your wrist to lead you away. “Aww Takiishi…don’t leave me behind. Oh wait, you both are named Takiishi. What’s ya lil sis’s name?” Endo strides after. “Don’t you dare follow us.” Chika throws a sinister look over his shoulder, making Endo frown. The dark-haired male shrugs his shoulders, knowing if he went against Chika’s words he’d definitely be beaten to the brink of death. So as much as he doesn’t want to, he begins to walk in the opposite direction.

Endo decides to find out about you through other means.

“W-Wait up Chika-nii!” You’re scrambling, trying not to lose your footing while he drags you down the street. He abruptly stops, turning around to look at your disheveled form. “Was I walking too fast?” Chika brings his hands up to smooth down your hair. You nod and pant out, “Mhm, too fast…”

“Let’s go home.” He interlocks his fingers with yours, walking slowly this time, right by your side. You feel your cheeks heating up, feeling his larger warm calloused hand in yours. It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

He opens the door of your shared apartment for you, “Thank you nii-chan…” Stepping into the foyer, Chika locks the door behind him, eyes drifting down to your plump ass when you bend over to remove your shoes. He’s able to get a good view of the way your panties are clinging to your cunt.

You take a step into the apartment, but he’s wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you back with ease. You gasp when your ass is pressed flushed against him. “Chika-nii?” The way you say his name in that sultry tone makes him throb.

He’s slipping one hand under your blouse to palm your tits whilst the other is going under your mini skirt, into your panties. Pushing the soaked center aside so he can dip his fingers into your pussy’s slit— his little sister’s pussy. So wet already.

His parents told him to take care of you, he does so in every way. Mentally, physically, and sexually. Chika doesn’t give a damn about what’s good or bad. What he does know is that you said he was the only man you wanted. He would be a bad nii-chan if he didn’t listen to his little sister.

Chika has his rules for you though. No swearing, no drinking without his permission, no smoking, no boys, and you have to tell him where you’re going. He states his pretty little sis shouldn’t have a dirty mouth. The last time you broke one of his rules, he tied you down and held a wand to your cunt until you passed out and that was tamest punishment.

Sisters and brothers weren’t supposed to be intimate. It’s immoral and taboo, but you and Chika are far from normal. To peas in a pod. It’s true you don’t want any other man but him. No one can compare to the attention and dedication he gives you. Chika was the one to deflower you and since then, the only cock you ever want to take.

Why would you need another man when you have Chika-nii?

You know because you can feel yourself dripping down his fingers and the tent that’s prodding against your ass. “Ah- Ch-Chika-nii…” Your grinding down on his hand, the palm of it rubbing against your achy clit. The two of you have been fucking like rabbits since living together. Not a single day goes by where he isn’t shaping his cock into your cunny. When he’s out with Endo for most of the day, he makes it up by stuffing a vibrator into you, having you cum over and over again from his phone. It has you prepped throughly for when he's able to come home and pound your overstimulated hole.

In minutes, Chika has you squirting all over his hand, the gush of liquid splattering on the floor. You’re wildly bucking your hips, trying to prolong the ecstasy. “Nii—Nii—chan...“ You whimper out as he nips and bites your skin, sinking his teeth into your pudgy neck. You bring your hand back to dig your nails into his nape. Mind reeling from your orgasm, you’re grinding your ass back into his pelvis. “Chika-nii…wan’ your cock…” You’re pouting at him with those fuck-me eyes. You love his cock.

Your big brother will oblige your every desire. That’s his role.

However, the moment your eye catches the shiny condom wrapper, you’re frowning. “What’s wrong?” Chika asks, tilting your head towards him. “Wanna feel you nii-chan…don’t want the rubber…” You whine.

“We can’t—“ One of the few times Chika-nii has told you no. “Why?! I’m on birth control…the doctor said I could start having unprotected sex now…” Giving him your best puppy eyes. He pauses for a moment, before throwing you over his shoulder. You’re giggling and kicking your legs as he brings you to the bedroom, tossing you down onto the plush mattress.

He sheds his jacket and shirt, revealing the days old love bites across his chest and abs. “They’re disappearing…Chika-nii—lemme make more.” You give him a toothy smile as he’s climbing over you. He can sense your excitement for doing it raw for the first time. “Later.”

Shit, he’d been missing out. Why had he been wasting his cum in those latex rubbers? The sight of his spunk slipping out your stretched out hole has him rock hard again in seconds. This just opened a new world of possibilities.

“Chika-nii, feel s’full…” You’re sliding your manicured finger along your slit, rubbing his semen around your folds. His gaze zeroed in at the way his jizz is dripping down to your clenched asshole.

The entire afternoon was dedicated to cumming inside you until he’s shooting blanks. While doing so, he’s fantasizing about making you keep it inside both your holes, having you walk around with his cum dripping down your thighs, and more naughty sperm filled thoughts. Your face is showing the same. It’s almost like you can read his mind, of course you can, Chika’s the person whose DNA is the closest to yours in this whole world.

His dick feels like it’s about to fall off after orgasming so many times. “Nii-chan— hahhh…” Tugging at his dyed red ombré hair, hips twitching as he keeps you pinned down. His tongue delving into your stained white cunt. Chika’s humming from the taste of your creams mixed together. Tears are rolling down the sides of your face as he eats himself out of you. “Chika-nii! Ah—!” Tilting your head enough to meet his orange orbs. Eyes the same color as yours.

Despite the ache in your thighs, you’re grinding against his face, the slurping sounds Chika’s making is like melody. “Can’t—“ Feeling yourself at the edge again, you’re clawing into his scalp. His eyes never waver from yours.

Your big brother sits back up, staring down at your unconscious body. He’s pinching your nipples to see if you would wake up, you don’t. Chika’s prying your mouth open with his fingers to kiss you. Pleased at the way you easily submit to him in your sleeping form. You wouldn’t mind right? You never do, you’re just as a mess as he was.

woke up and realized I can write whatever I want…don’t like don’t read

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 12) [note: trigger warning for a pretty rough spanking scene with a belt and minimal aftercare. if you need to, you can skip to the midway point (there's a line between the first half and second).]

first chapter >> last chapter

-

He keeps your hands tied behind your back on the ride home.

All that does is confirm the fact that he must know. Graves must have tracked him down or perhaps he was approached by someone who did consider your sudden arrival in town suspicious. Why else would the sheriff chase you all the way into the mountains on horseback and then take you back with him? He would’ve within his rights to leave your thieving self to wander alone in the woods and succumb to the elements.

John doesn’t say a word the first hour of the ride back. You can feel the anger emanating from him though. He almost shakes with it. His anger somehow upsets you more than whatever is left to come. 

“Anytime you wanna start talkin’, I’m all ears,” John finally says, breaking the silence. 

You keep your lips pressed together, stubbornly silent. There’s no use giving yourself away before you’ve learned how much he knows. You haven’t built this life of yours with loose lips. 

“I don’t know what in the Sam Hill has gotten into you,” he continues, and his voice is cobblestone tread rough in the night. “Running off all by yourself. There ain’t nothing out in these parts except outlaws and highwaymen. There are men out here that’d love to get their hands on a woman like you—not even a knife to defend yourself with. You haven’t even got a scrap of food on you, never mind water. You’d’ve been dead in a week if the men out here hadn’t picked you off themselves.”

His words make your stomach ache. You know that there are worse things out there. A thousand gruesome ways to die. You’re less of a lady than John might think—you’ve heard stories. You’ve brushed close to that reality yourself. You wonder how he’d take it if you were to tell him about what had happened back east. 

Maybe running away this time hadn’t been your smartest idea, but it had been your only. You can’t fault yourself for the instinct to survive. 

“I know,” you mumble, dropping your chin to your chest. 

“You gonna explain to me why you stole my horse and ran off in the first place?” he asks. 

It’s the strangest interrogation you’ve ever heard of—sitting on the same horse with your back to the man questioning you and your hands tied together at the wrists. You wonder if you leaned back whether you’d feel his heart beating furiously in his chest. 

You remain mulishly silent though, reticent to answer the question.

“Maybe I’ve been spoiling you,” he continues, trying to rationalize it to himself. “After the fuss you put up those first few days, I thought a bit of structure and discipline would do you well, and it did. Giving you a bit of slack was my mistake.”

You frown at that. Those don’t sound like the words of a man with any knowledge of the circumstances leading to you running off. He might not even have come across Graves at all in the hours since the man made his appearance in the general store. Otherwise, you can’t imagine how he wouldn’t make the connection. 

Still, you can’t make yourself come right out and say it, even though every iota of your being aches to let the truth out. Call it nerves overpowering the need to be truthful and good. You vacillate between honesty and self-preservation, but each avenue feels like being dropped into a nest of vipers. 

But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t question you like this. It’s a boon you can’t give up, not yet. Not when the thought of his inevitable righteous fury fills you with dread and self-loathing. 

“I don’t have to explain myself,” you spit out suddenly, and it’s not you saying those words but something ugly and sad in you. “You’re not my owner.”

“I damn sure am your husband though,” John growls, winding his free hand around your hair to tug you back into his chest. “And I know these parts far better than you, little miss. Beyond running off on me for no good reason when I thought we put your reticence behind us, you went and put yourself in danger the likes of which you couldn’t even fathom.”

“I’m not an idiot,” you snap. “I know what men are like.”

“You’re telling me you pulled that stunt knowing what kinda danger is out there in the woods?”

“I wasn’t thinking!”

“I know you weren’t,” John grunts. “That’s the issue.” 

The rest of the ride home is uncomfortably quiet. John keeps one hand clamped on your waist while the other holds the reins of both horses, the two walking alongside each other back down the trail towards the house. The ride home is a lot longer than the ride out into the woods since John refuses to let either of them go faster than a slow trot while your hands are tied behind your back. 

He snorts in derision at your suggestion to undo your binds. “That eager for your punishment?” 

That gets you to zip your lips. 

When you get drowsy, John tips your head back and makes you sip from his waterskin. His hand fits carefully around your throat to hold your head in place, his fingers curling around to just graze the nape of your neck. Your throat pulses under his palm when you swallow. It’s far too intimate for how restless you feel, damn near shaking out of your skin, but it briefly shushes the voice in your head until he pulls his hand away. 

A shadow under the doorway of the house startles you at first before it takes a step into the faint light of the setting sun and you recognize the bristly blond of Simon’s shorn head and the red bandana shrouding the bottom half of his face. The tension ebbs back into you when you realize with creeping humiliation that the black horse you rode home on must belong to him. 

He watches the two of you approach with predictable disinterest, his eyes betraying nothing. The shame is excruciating. 

John brings the horse to a halt some feet from Simon, not bothering to greet him. You wonder if it’s the anger choking him or if this is just routine, men trading favors in silence lest a word in gratitude break the spell. After dismounting himself, John helps you down, all but picking you up and lifting you off the horse. 

Simon doesn’t say a word to either of you when he takes the reins from John’s hands, giving him only a curt nod and you a cursory glance before leading his horse away to mount. He doesn’t spare you a backwards glance before taking off back towards town. You watch him over your shoulder while John guides you up the porch steps and into the house, until the shape of him disappears into the horizon. Then the door shuts behind you. 

Alone now, your attention turns back to John. He stares down at you consideringly, a hand planted on the door he just shut until he lets it fall to his side. You can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing something out. 

It wouldn’t be right to call it anticipation; it’s not quite dread either. 

“I don’t make idle threats, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing. 

His words make you frown until you glance down to find him undoing his belt. Your blood turns to ice. He tugs the thick strap until it comes sliding out of each loop around his waist. The buckle rests heavy in his palm, thick fingers curling around it, and when he bends the belt in two, you already know that he intends to follow through with his threat from earlier, the one you said you’d gut him for.

“I’ll scream,” you warn, heart in your throat. It almost chokes you. “I mean it. I’ll scream like the devil.”

“Don’t go makin’ no empty threats now, darlin’,” he says in a low voice, almost taunting. You can hear the hard edge in his voice though. It’s not something he craves, but he’ll take it. 

“You touch me with that thing and I’ll never forgive you.” 

John’s eyes go hard. “I’ll just have to take that chance.” 

And then he’s on you.

He hooks an arm around your waist when you try to rush past him back out the door and it forces the breath out of you. 

You struggle as best you can with your hands tied behind your back, trying to wriggle out of his hold even as he heaves you up into his arms and climbs the staircase towards the bedroom. The steps creak under the added weight of you in his arms. The screams come tearing from your throat, ripping your vocal cords and nearly sending you into a coughing fit. 

“Let—me—go—” you shriek, kicking out wildly, hoping to catch something that’ll make him lose his balance. 

“All that squirmin’ ain’t making me feel more merciful,” he growls. 

John kicks the bedroom door open with his foot when he reaches the top of the staircase. The room looks ominous without the oil lamp lit, the shadows growing in the corners swallowing up the end table. The bed is just as you made it this morning, the sheets pressed tight and neat, and you only get a second to take that in before he marches towards the bed and throws you down onto it.  

You hit the bed hard, bouncing slightly. He sits down heavily enough to jostle you and when you try to roll away on instinct, a hand catches you by the bicep and pulls you back. He hauls you across the bulk of his thighs this time, far different from your first meeting back in the sheriff’s office all those weeks ago. Your feet don’t even touch the floor this time around, dangling in the air and flailing for purchase. 

“You brute—you bastard!” you screech.

“I’m not gonna be as charitable this time,” John says, yanking your dress up and your drawers down until your bare bottom is exposed. You gasp at the cold air, murmuring something like please, please, please under your breath. “Even if I knew why it was you decided to run off, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you did. You coulda been hurt or worse out there, darlin’, and I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m gonna make sure the lesson sinks in this time.”

He folds the leather belt to hold it in one hand, leaving the other to pin you down over his thighs, making sure you don’t wriggle out. The leather is cool at first when he drags it over your butt. It makes your breathing pick up. It’s so gentle that you can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s all he intends to do. 

The first lash comes so quick that you barely register it. The second knocks the wind out of you, and then the pain sets in. 

It stings something fierce. Where his palm hurt that first time he bent you over his desk and spanked you, the belt burns. It goes deep and it lingers when he pulls the leather away from your stinging bottom. 

“Hurts like the dickens, don’t it?” John asks, not bothering to wait for confirmation before bringing the belt down again. “You’re lucky it’s only ten this time.”

You howl into the bedsheets, eyes tearing up and spilling down your cheeks. When you try to cover your ass with your bound hands, John grabs them and pins them to the small of your back. 

“What’ll you never do again?” he growls. 

“I—I’ll—”

“Say it, darlin’: I’ll never run off on my own again.”

“I’ll—n-never gonna—oh, it hurts, John—please—”

At some point, you must say the words he’s looking for. You lose count of how many times his belt has struck across your ass. Like thunder coming after lightning, you feel it and then you hear it. The sharp snap comes as a second wave of agony in and of itself. 

Your throat is stripped raw by the time it’s over. The aftermath finds you with a puddle of drool under your cheek, hair matted to your face. Sweat slicks the backs of your thighs and down your spine. Even the gentlest brush of John’s hand over your backside, the belt deposited off the side of the bed, makes you flinch, the skin there tender to the touch. You’ll surely feel it deep in your bones come sunrise. 

Too exhausted for anger, all you can do is lie there. It sits heavy in your stomach though, a pit at the center of you. You want to say, who gave you the right? The answer burns a ring around your finger though. You want to say, you don’t understand, it had nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and you. 

You can tell he wants to say something. It gets choked in his throat, but you can hear it in the way his breath draws in, like he’s trying to coax it from his chest but it simply won’t come out. 

“Stay right there,” John rumbles instead, shifting you onto the bed to let you lie on your belly. 

You moan in pain when he moves you, sniffling into your arms. The crook of your elbow is sticky with your tears and snot. 

The bed dips under his weight when he comes back. You flinch violently when he draws the skirt of your dress up again and smooths his hand over the tender cheeks of your backside, spreading a cool salve over your skin. The first touch of his hand makes you hiss, tears beading in the corners of your eyes again, but then the cool sinks in, alleviating the ache. 

He does that for another few minutes in silence. Gentle, tentative touches, only stopping when the salve has been spread evenly over your bottom. He’s quiet when he shifts you up the bed until your feet are no longer dangling off the end. You’re distantly aware of him taking off your shoes and tucking you into bed, but the events of the day have finally gotten the better of you. It would be easier to push a boulder up a hill than crack even one of your eyelids open.

Time passes slowly; sluggishly. Your thoughts can’t quite catch up with it, either too quick or too slow. You’re stuck in thoughts of the desert, caught in a sandstorm that manifests too suddenly for you to take cover. All you can do is close your eyes and wait it out. 

Morning comes like a brutal summoning into the waking world. 

It hurts, but you expected that. Before your eyes even open, you’re aware of a throbbing pain coming from your backside. You wince when you shift to your side, squeezing your eyes tight. You contemplate rolling over and taking your chances with John’s temper. The thought isn’t as appealing in the light of day though. 

It takes some time to get out of bed and when you do, you have to step tentatively from floorboard to floorboard, the ache making it decidedly uncomfortable. You can’t imagine what sitting down will be like. Riding a horse is just out of the question. 

From the bedroom window, you see John standing in front of the house with Simon, back again not even twelve hours later. With the window closed, you can’t hear their conversation, nor can you read their lips. Their exchange doesn’t last long though. After another minute or so, and a nod goodbye, Simon walks back over to his horse standing nearby and lifts himself up and over onto the saddle, taking off towards town. 

When John turns back towards the house, you see him glance up towards the bedroom window where you stand. The circles beneath his eyes are dark, pronounced. On another day, you might’ve ducked out of sight or jumped away from the window, but now you hold his gaze. 

He breaks your stare first this time, heading back inside. It’s less satisfying than you thought it’d be. 

You spend the day resting in bed and avoiding John for the most part. He spends the majority of the day out of the house. You hear him downstairs in the kitchen around midday, fixing himself up something to eat, and you listen attentively to the scrape of the chair across the floor and the pan on the stovetop. Like the day he brought you home, he brings you up a tray only to leave it at the door, rapping the door with his knuckles to let you know before heading back downstairs. 

When he comes up for bed, you’re already lying down with your back to the door, the oil lamp left unlit. John doesn’t say anything to you as he changes into his nightwear. He smells fresh when he climbs into bed, like he bathed in the creek out in the woods. You breathe in deeply, trying to keep your breath quiet enough to not disturb the silence. The pillow under your head is saturated with his scent. You turn your nose into it when he lies down on his back instead of curling into you like he usually does. 

Your chest aches at that simple denial. There’s a wall between the two of you and you know where it came from. Any trust that you’d built lies in ruins now. 

Perhaps that’s not quite right though. It’s a romantic notion that you’ve been building something together all this time, but it doesn’t feel right now that you have the wherewithal to look back and reflect. All this time, whenever you’ve touched, you’ve held him steadfast and at an arm's length away, stopping two degrees short of intimacy. 

Deliberately effusive; and worse, you’ve called it affection. 

The tenderness in your heart is the worst of it. There’s a bruise there, and it’s been there awhile. It’s only grown with your recent troubles. You tell yourself every year that you’ll air it out come spring, but then the winter comes and it freezes over again.  

The pillow under your chest grows damp with your tears. 

Your dress the next morning is cornflower blue. The wheatfields are golden stalks swaying in the breeze. It’s a pleasanter day than how you feel. 

The ride into town is as painful as you thought it might be. You wince with every stride, your bottom still tender as a rose. John’s arm tightens around your waist when you squirm, like you might slide off the saddle and try to flee again, and you bite your lip to hold back the urge to snap. 

The little bit of independence you’d grown to enjoy is snatched away from you. You expected that as well, but that loss of privilege comes with a biting ache. You fight the urge to gnash your teeth and bark at him that you’re not a child when he grips you under the arm and leads you down the road. It wouldn’t do you any good. 

When John leaves you off at the general store, you’re surprised to find Kate back, hale and hearty. She looks up when the chime over the door jingles and raises her eyebrows in greeting. The sound makes you flinch, memories coming back unbidden. 

You look over your shoulder to say something to John before he leaves, but the door is already closing behind him by the time you turn around. Your lips are pursed on a word that dissolves in your mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste. 

“Thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days,” you say instead, turning back to Kate. There’s already a chair pulled up for you by the wall and you make yourself comfortable there, grimacing at first when your sore backside touches the wood before settling in. 

She shrugs. “Plans changed. Gaz and I made it back late last night.”

You frown. “Gaz?”

“Kyle Garrick. Sorry—slip of the tongue. You’ve met him already. He used to go by Gaz way back when.”

“Way back when?”

“Not my story to tell. You should ask one of them, if you’re curious.”

You are, but not enough to ask. “Maybe.”

The two of you lapse into silence after that exchange. Before leaving the house, you remembered to bring with you some needles and wool to pass the time. They’re not as familiar in your hands as you’d like them to be, but you suppose, barring the possibility of Graves or another bounty hunter showing up in town to cart you off, you’ll have time to learn. 

The thought leaves you anxious. It feels distinctly more possible now. 

“You met Miles while I was away?” Kate asks, out of the blue.

Your head comes up at her question. “Miles?”

“He was minding the store for me while I was away. Said you came in the other day.”

You swallow reflexively. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I did meet him. I didn’t stay long, since you were gone and all.”

She hums and looks back down at the book in front of her. You feel nervous all of a sudden. 

“He said you were very helpful,” she says abruptly, breaking the silence. You flinch. “Told me some gentleman came by with a warrant for a murder back east and you were kind enough to take it to your husband for him so he could keep minding the shop.”

Your throat constricts. She pins you under her gaze, unblinking eyes staring into yours but not looking for anything. Wispy blonde bangs brush along her forehead when she tilts her head ever so slightly. 

You nod instead of answering. 

“Did you give it to him?” she asks.

“I didn’t have a chance to. The day got away from me,” you say tersely. 

“I heard something about that. Kyle said John had to borrow Simon’s horse the other day. Said something about him taking off in a hurry.”

Again, you don’t answer. It feels like without knowing it, you’ve crossed over a threshold. 

“Do you still have it?” Kate prompts when again you don’t respond. You don’t tell her that you don’t because in all the fuss the other day, it must have slipped out of your pocket and drifted off into the wind. “The warrant?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. 

“That’s alright. I have a good enough idea about what it might’ve said.” 

Sweat beads on your upper lip. She all but says it outloud. You’re as still as a ferrotype under her gaze, imprinted in place, unable to move so much as a muscle or force a word past your stiff lips. 

“You’re under no obligation to tell me or anyone,” Kate says, and her voice is suddenly gentle, softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t be telling John, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh. Thank you,” you breathe, throat so tight that the words almost don’t come out. 

It’s the closest you’ve come to admitting to it, tangentially or not, and even now it’s spoken only out of the corner of your mouth. You don’t think you have it in you to recite the events sequentially. Even in the privacy of your memory, it comes piecemeal, in fragmented images that flicker across your mind because maybe to remember it whole would be too much. 

You don’t say much more after that, and neither does Kate. That wasn’t the point of bringing it up, you think. You'd know if it was. 

When John comes to fetch you at the end of the day, you leave without saying goodbye to Kate. Only a stiff smile before heading out on your way. If she returns your smile, you don’t notice it. To John, you simply duck your head and follow him out the door, letting him help you up onto the horse without a word. 

If it bothers him that you refuse to speak to him, he doesn’t show it. 

It’s so many steps back that you might as well be back where you started. Maybe even further back, a voyage gone so wrong that when you look over your shoulder, you can’t make heads or tails of where you came from. The trees from the other side of the trail never look quite the same. 

If you could open your mouth and say it, you would. If you knew he’d listen. But you don’t think John is that kind of man. Against the gold of the setting sun, he cuts a figure from times of yore. He speaks plain while you tend to speak in fricatives and bilabial stops, incapable of enunciating the words. 

You feel like a wound on the world. Getting it wrong again and again. 

It’s an old pain, one that started back when you were too small to hold it all. Now, you’ve grown large enough to hold it, though it holds you back in turn. You remember your parents studiously ignoring first creation like some noxious cloud billowing from the chimney. There’d been too many children for them to care about the runt. Shipped off to your aunt’s and uncle’s just for the cycle to repeat itself. 

It’s an old grief, this one, friendly because it nudges at your hips when you brush by, striking in the blue-green. And when it burns, it burns.

“John, I—” you say when he helps you down back at the house. 

He stares down at you, waiting you out. Your mouth goes dry, the truth beyond your grasp again. Your heart aches when his brows furrow and the lines around his eyes crease again, frustration welling beneath the surface. 

You understand. It sits under your skin too. 

"Go inside," he says instead when you don't go on. "I'll bring in the horses and start supper."

Your God sits at the edge of the bed, wholly lacking praise. It’s not His fault that it’s been awhile. These days, you can hardly muster up the energy to say hello. You gargle saltwater before you bathe and scrub your skin free of blood, waiting for the next morning to come.

And you think, lying on your side while John sleeps on the other side of the bed, wouldn’t it be lovely to get it right now, rather than in retrospect?

[sant-riley]

Yeah but like what if one day Gaz walked into a room and saw Y/N FNAF lore dumping to Ghost

[Infodumping the boys]

(Mostly Platonic tf141 x gen neutral! reader, hints at Ghost bc it’s me and I’m biased.)

Summary: Teddy aka You, decide to gather the gang and tell them about five nights at Freddy’s before the movie comes out.

Word count: 800 ish

Warnings: Possibly of for the boys (idrc tho lmao), Teddy is this readers callsign, reader is implied to be at least early 20’s, I can’t think of anything else tbh but lmk if this does need something tagged!

It wasn't uncommon for you to infodump your teammates, they're all older than you and have significantly less screen time than you (it ties into being older). Most of the information you give them is something they take as fact, this is no different.

Gaz of all people knows your interests best, you two being the closest in age means you both realistically grew up with the internet and its most popular series.

The last thing he expected walking into one of the many meeting rooms on base, was you at the front of the room, your laptop hooked up to the projector and Price and Soap sitting down, dutifully listening with varying degrees of attention.

Price is to your left, staring down at mission documents that no doubt need to be turned in by tomorrow. A glass of some liquor next to his stack, a cigar box that's propped open right by it as well.

To anyone else, it would seem like Price isn't listening and he's just here to keep you from bothering him to come but Gaz can see the Captain's eye flick up every so often, his eyes softening when his gaze falls on yours, listening for a few beats, a miniscule upturn of his lips until he's looking back down again, grabbing a pen to make a correction.

Soap on the other hand is sitting next to Cap, a hand resting under his chin, the other flipping around a pen in his hands. He's nodding and asking questions as you flick through. Below him is a notebook that seems to have scribbled in it, if Gaz walked in further he could see little drawings of Monty Gator and Soap himself, a Venn diagram with a large red writing saying "Mohawk!!"

Ghost being there probably should be a shock but it isn't. The man is known to follow you around like a shadow, he humors you arguably the most out of the four men, letting you drag him to and from places with minimal complaint. He bets Ghost is gonna be the one to take you to the five nights at Freddys movie premiere.

Simon's dressed down to just his hoodie and his balaclava mask, attentively watching you as you speak passionately about each character and their role in the series. his dark eyes flicking around to stare at the drawings you inserted so everyone could see what the animatronics and others looked like.

You would've thought this was a mission debrief with how focused he was on your words.

Gaz lets out a fake cough, announcing himself to the room and he watches as your eyes immediately latch onto him, he ignores how his heart skips a beat when he sees the crinkles of your eyes, seeing you shoot a glowing smile his way.

You always look at him like that but he never tires of it.

"Gaz! Finally, you're here!"

Rushing over to him, you grab at his hand, quickly intertwining fingers, and start dragging him to the seat next to Ghost. He sits down with a huff, amusement swimming around his eyes. You move to go back to the front of the room, gleefully rocking on the balls of your feet as you look at them.

"What's all this about?" He questions, after getting nods in acknowledgment from the other 3 men in the room.

"Teddy here is tellin' us about five nights at…Frankies?"

"It's Freddy's, Johnny." You roll your eyes playfully.

"No shot you're making Ghost and Cap listen to this."

"I'm not making them do anything, they're here of their own free will, thank you very much." Sticking out your tongue, moving to click to the next slide.

"Is that true Cap?"

"It's background noise," John murmurs with a shrug, taking a swig out of his glass. He leans back in his seat, seemingly taking a momentary break as he looks around at the table.

"Got nothin' better else to do," Simon answers easily, looking at Gaz from the corner of his eye.

"You ain't gonna ask me, Garrick?"

"Nah, you of all people would enjoy it."

"What's tha-"

"Boys! Shut it! We're getting to the good part!" You clap your hands together and Soap immediately cuts himself off, looking back at you.

With all the boys' eyes on you, you clear your throat and push a button, there, from when Gaz remembers, is Michael Afton in all his purple nasty body glory.

"Fucks wrong with him? Why does he look like that?" Simon remarks, an eyebrow shooting up.

"I'm so glad you asked, you know actually the more I think about it, You and Michael actually have a lot in common.”

"How so?"

"Asshole dad, the oldest brother, daddy issues, I can keep going if you want."

Ghost just grunts in acknowledgment, raising a hand to his head and rubbing at his temples.

Price chokes on his liquor, coughing as it goes down the wrong pipe.

Soap audibly drops an "oh."

And Gaz just stares, truth be told, yeah. Yeah, he can see the resemblance.

[p1utofairy]

PICK A CARD: “when i look into your eyes, i know it's real.”

★ which romantic tropes will you and your fp embody?

DISCLAIMER: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates leave what doesn’t. this was such a cute idea – thanks for requesting this anon. 💞 i hope you all enjoy!

— PILE ONE.

tropes → star-crossed lovers, forbidden love & opposites attract.

there’s a distinct polarity in you and your fp’s personalities & backgrounds, pile 1. you’re more reserved, cautious and patient and they’re more free-spirited and spontaneous. they say whatever they want and deal with the consequences later; this isn’t in a bad way either, i’m more so picking up that they like to stand up and fight for what’s right. they could be an activist of some sort. they’re confident and brave, and you’re really going to admire that. as far as finances go, this person has MONEY, like big money! they either come from money or they are in a profession that pays extremely well and that’s where i see the forbidden love trope coming in to play.

remember how allie in ‘the notebook’ comes from a wealthy, privileged background, while noah is portrayed as more working-class? the contrast in their backgrounds and personalities added depth to their relationship and created a lot of tension and conflict, but ultimately it made their love story more compelling and dynamic – that’s what i see here with you and your fp. you’re tired of over-working yourself for low pay and working jobs that don’t fulfill you financially, mentally and emotionally. you feel stuck…wondering when things are going to change. i see someone looking out of a window in a house, there’s a strong sense of longing and their eyes look sad. they’re waiting for someone or something to arrive, but when? you’ve been telling yourself to keep going and keep pushing through, and then you will see progress and reward in the long run – very saturn/saturnian energy.

it’s interesting because you’re looking for a way out of your situation and your person is looking for an adventure. your fp is very comfortable financially, but they’re lacking in their love life. right now they’re very much single and they’re fine with that, but that fiery energy that burns inside them can’t be dimmed for long. when they cross paths with you they’re gonna be awestruck like “whoa! who is that?” lol. your fp might have some sagittarius/fire sign placements, or they just carry themselves very pompous and matter-of-fact, which might throw you off at first. that’s why i was also picking up on that opposites attract trope because princess belle & the beast from ‘beauty and the beast’ immediately came to mind. belle loved her books and independence, which was a stark contrast with the beast’s initial gruff and hot-tempered nature. you might think they’re a bit arrogant at first, but once you get to know them you’ll understand that there’s layers to them.

their family plays a big part in their life, which ties into the forbidden love trope because i’m ngl their family lowkey can be a lot to handle. as i said before, some of your fps come from money so some of their families might be a little snooty and strict like allie’s mom from ‘the notebook’ but i think with patience and time – you and your fp will learn to not give a f*ck what their family or anybody else thinks. this relationship is destined and you’re meant to show each other the different aspects/complexities of life and love. the energy is very reminiscent of mr. darcy and elizabeth from ‘pride and prejudice’ like remember how much longing and yearning it took for them to finally be together?! it was sooooooo worth it.

additional messages → wealthy, 2 years from now, ego, aries, very lowkey, the blackest day by lana del rey & cultural differences.

— PILE TWO.

tropes → second chance & age gap.

your fp is dominant af, pile 2. they possess everything within reach, and they’re admired by many. you may establish boundaries with them from the very beginning and they will respect that, they value you and wouldn’t dare do anything to hurt you. however, despite the love, passion, and devotion that will be present in this relationship, there will also be a need for compromise. it seems that this relationship will fulfill your hopes and dreams, but it will also come with its share of responsibilities. in the early stages, both you and your fp will feel a strong urge to make your relationship official and commit to each other. whatever you need or want – they will provide for you. you may not have expected to fall for them, but you couldn’t fight the obvious chemistry between you two. i picked up on the age gap trope mainly because they have provider energy. for some of you, they might already have a kid/kids? your energy feels a little bit more flighty and young. you like to be in your own personal space most of the time, and not everyone understands that, but your fp will.

actually, i think the idea of compromise i was picking up on earlier has to do with your personal space. you might be a bit of an introvert and the idea of constantly entertaining someone 24/7 and not having a moment for yourself is a bit jarring to you. now i’m not saying this person is taking your autonomy away, what i’m saying is that there has to be some sort of balance with the give and take in this connection. it’s reminding me of olivia pope and fitz from ‘scandal’ like one minute he’s showing her the house he had built for them in vermont and then the next scene she’s crying that she needs space and they can’t be together – like OLIVIA what’s it gonna be?! it’s like your heart is saying yes but your mind is saying no.

you’re gonna have to use your discernment and figure out if this is what you want – true commitment. it’s gonna take trust and dedication to make this work, pile 2. it might get to a point where y’all take a break and you choose to see someone else, and then you realize how much of a greater difference your fp makes in your life. they’re your home. that's the second chance trope coming into play. wow, pile 2. this is a very dynamic and complex relationship, but that’s what keeps you two going and loving each other through thick and thin.

additional messages → infrunami by steve lacy, you will meet through friends, extremely dedicated, workaholic, ass kisser, there’s someone in your inner circle you need to cut off, moving abroad, younger sibling & love drought by beyoncé.

— PILE THREE.

tropes → high school sweethearts & enemies to lovers.

your fp is the life of the party, pile 3…sometimes to a fault lol. they’re capable of being responsible and making good decisions, but sometimes they just say f*ck it and wild out. they can be impulsive and unpredictable at times which is quite the opposite from you. i’m picturing haley and nathan from ‘one tree hill’ and kat and patrick from ‘10 things i hate about you’ AND no by meghan trainer just randomly started playing in my head. i’m honestly so amused by this energy cause you’re like “nope! you’re not gonna fuck my life up.” being all dramatic 🤭 and they’re like “what?! me? i would never!” lol there’s gonna be a lot of witty banter between you both. your friends are gonna encourage you to just give them a chance, cause it’s obvious that you do like them — you just can’t stand how “friendly” they are.

your fp is extroverted as hell and loves a good social outing, whereas you on the other hand, rather curl up in bed with a good book or binge-watch your favorite shows/movies in the comfort of your own home. there’s this energy of “been there, done that.” the party scene just isn’t it for you anymore, and you’re content with that. this connection will really help your fp mature and get more in tune with their emotions, instead of masking them behind reckless behavior and nonchalance. that high school sweethearts trope really comes through strongly, not in the sense that y’all are actually in high school, but that nathan & haley vibe – that puppy love! once y’all are together, nobody can tell y’all shit. you and your fp will RIDE for each other.

nathan and haley definitely had their ups and downs, but they always found a way to make it work once they put their egos aside. haley brought out a side of nathan that nobody else got to experience but her. sometimes butting heads is necessary, it helps you confront things within yourself that you don’t always want to acknowledge. you’re so nurturing pile 3, you bring water to their fire. i don’t see you immediately jumping into this relationship, but that’s the beauty of it. that’s where the enemies to lovers trope kicks in, you’ll have to warm up to them first before you truly understand who they are at the core. your fp is used to fast-pace, hot n’ heavy, fleeting relationships but this is stable. this is pure. they’ll realize you can’t rush true love like this, it’s the journey and build-up that makes it so magical.

additional messages → 1st house placements, sagittarius, very soon, get out of your head, nice and slow by usher & family feud.

— PILE FOUR.

tropes → friends to lovers & forced proximity.

your fp has very high-energy, pile 4. i feel out of breath like i just got done doing 8 different tasks at once lol they might be very athletic or they just like to keep themselves busy. you and your fp are opposites, but the more you get to know each other, you will begin to realize that you have a lot in common – i’m hearing that you two will have a lot to talk about. sometimes you might find yourself holding back from saying things that you want to say in fear of judgement but with this person that anxiety goes out the window. they want to hear your thoughts and ideas, because they truly value your wisdom and knowledge on certain topics that they might not have been aware of. i’m hearing that they want to know your lore lol this is too cute. maybe you’re really into movies? marvel? fashion? idk there’s something very specific that you could go on and on about for hours and hours.

that’s why i picked up on that friends to lovers trope because i feel like they will show immediate interest in you and want to pursue something more, but you’ll be like WOAH hold it there…let’s build on this and see where it can go, no rush. i’m ngl pile 4 they might have a bit of a reputation or vibe of being a player…which will make you hesitant as to whether or not you want to take this seriously. i don’t even think you two normally run in the same circles – this is more like a chance meeting. yup here goes that forced proximity trope, you’ll probably meet them in some sort of unconventional way and be “forced” to spend time together.

you and your fp kind of remind me of holly and eric from ‘life as we know it’ which is a very underrated but amazing rom-com. i don’t think you’ll initially hate them per se, you’ll just be a bit cautious of them and wonder if they’re actually being genuine. however, by spending time with your fp, you will develop a deeper understanding and appreciation for them; which will then lead to you falling for them and establishing a close bond. you two might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot and then after a proper conversation with them you’ll be like: huh…you’re not so bad after all. there’s this flirty energy that comes in the form of sly/sarcastic remarks, and you’ll come to realize that it’s their own way of saying “i really like you.” it’s giving 2000s rom-com lol hot n cold by katy perry just came to mind.

the sexual tension between you two will be palpable, your friends will be like just f*ck already!!! this relationship will have it’s fair share of ups and downs, but that’s what will make it worth fighting for; nothing and no one is perfect and you will learn that in this relationship. no one could ever compare to you in your fp’s eyes – they will always have love for you even in the moments where you two don’t see eye to eye. the difference in you and your fp’s personalities will be what draws you two together even more.

additional messages → jealousy, jealousy by olivia rodrigo, lots of traveling, you manifested this, different lifestyles but we’ll make it work, your angel guides got your back & when one door closes, another one opens.

[empress-simps]

Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

[brighteuphony]

I LOVE your Sakura AU, thank you so much for making it 🥹

Even though her ending is supposed to be “good”, I always thought that canon didn’t do her justice and threw any character development she had out of the window so she can be with Sasuke

I SO wanted her to finally move on and just let go

And I don’t have anything against Sasusaku

But I think it’d be much more beautiful if Sakura long let go of her feelings by the time Sasuke came to his senses and they developed their relationship TOGETHER from the START

And, once again, your work is AMAZING and I can’t wait for next pieces ❤️

Btw, can I ask a question?) Will we see Naruto’s and Sasuke’s reaction to her condition (maybe flashback to before she left the village?), if not, can you please tell me a bit about it? I can’t imagine them to ignore her after the incident, especially considering that they are at fault as usual

Thank you so much for the kind words! I've also never been a fan of how Sakura ended up. I have no beef with SasuSaku, but my biggest issue was that we never saw Sasuke try to make up/connect with Sakura in the same way we saw him do with Naruto, so their romance in Boruto just felt so...abrupt?

As for what happens to Sakura and her friends....

Sasuke was essentially put on probation/jailed, but broke out and defected to Otogakure as canon. This devastates Sakura, as she's both in deep denial about his contribution to her injuries and also the fact that she basically threw herself in there for nothing. Kakashi shuts down completely. It's a nightmare replay of his own past, including the female team-mate being horrifically injured by the chidori. The guilt of everything is eating him alive so he basically withdraws into himself and uses her demotion to civilian status as a way to trick himself into thinking that if he just 'rips off the bandaid' and cut ties, she'll be able to move on more easily.

Naruto is the only person who is really able/willing to face justice. After the incident, he was basically also put on probation/awaiting trial but busted himself out to join Jiraya.

So for context, Sakura got clapped hard by the Rasengan/Chidori combo (hearing gone, nerve damage, eyes shot etc) and basically had to be put in a coma to try and stop the damage from getting worse, but unfortunately none of the medics in Konoha had the ability to reverse anything but the most superficial damage. So Naruto joined Jiraya in an attempt to find and bring the only person in the world who could give Sakura a sliver of hope.

I felt like this worked well with canon and the desperation to get Tsunade to be hokage and Naruto basically begged her on his hands and knees to help Sakura. Tsunade made it there in the nick of time managed to save everything but her eyes.

But Sakura's life has fallen apart, her career is over, her parents dead from Konoha Crush and her eyes gone...and Naruto is the most convenient and available person to take out all her rage on, so...while he deserves a lot of that rage..she is essentially punching down on who she perceives to be the cause of all her problems.

Lee is in the same boat as her, but while he tries very hard to be there for her, Sakura can't stand to be with him right now, as it just makes the reality of life hit that much worse- especially when she finds out there's a surgery that might give him a better chance than she'll ever have.

And Ino visits often at first, but then it's awkward...and painful as the weeks go by. They have lunch and gossip but at some point, there's not much a shinobi and civilian have in common, especially after the shortage of manpower post Konoha-crush has Ino entrenched in the shinobi life more than ever before.

I hope this answered some stuff! Thank you so much for the questions and the interest! I love Sakura and I just wanna give her the development and power she deserves!!

[waitingonher]

hiii!! I saw your Percy x Hecate reader and was wondering if you could do a percy x Aphrodite reader?? 🫶🏽🫶🏽

percy jackson dating a child of aphrodite

pairing: percy jackson x reader

content warning: coupley things

word count: 916

author's note: hi!! sorry this took so long (finals r around the corner) enjoy tho! i also put my own gas station order in this LOL

you and percy have got to be the most attractive couple on the planet. honestly, it’s an unspoken camp rite of passage to have a crush on at least one of you two. everyone literally has their own story about how they have/had a crush on either you or percy (or both) it’s crazy. 

percy is such a green flag!! 

HE FOLLOWS THE SIDEWALK RULE. no matter where you are, you WILL be walking on the inside. 

you could be on a super dangerous quest being chased by monsters and percy would still make sure he’s running on the outside. like i’m pretty sure being ran over is the least of your worries… but it’s still cute.

percy is actually so obsessed with the fact that you can speak french/other romance languages. he’d make up any excuse just to hear you speak them.

all of a sudden he’s paying attention in his spanish class and he needs your help pronouncing certain words!! 

or one day he’d randomly come up to you and would start speaking to you in french??? turns out he’s been secretly learning it without you knowing?? percy’s 387 day duolingo streak is all because he wanted to hear you speak your language more. he’s definitely dedicated!

sometimes when you’re talking, percy would suddenly be like “wow, she’s so pretty???” and he’d (accidentally) zone out, just completely admiring you. he knows that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, but sometimes he just has to take a moment to take it all in. 

shopping dates with percy!! 

you’d ask him which top looks the best on you and then he’d tell you all of them?? he really thinks you can afford all 10 shirts you showed him.

“perce, between those three pants, which one looked better on me?” you ask, holding one of the pairs against your body.  your boyfriend looks deep in thought before coming to a decision, “all of them,” he declares. “babe,” you groan, “you can’t choose them all, choose one.”  percy looks genuinely worried when he realizes he has to actually decide on one, because he thinks that you looked absolutely gorgeous in all of them. so he comes up with the only other idea that makes sense, “well i don’t mind buying them all for you. besides, you looked super great in them.”  you immediately shake your head, “percy, i’m not about to let you drop $150 on three pairs of pants. that’s actually insane.”  “but-”  “no percy.” 

HE KNOWS WHAT COLOR JEWELRY YOU WEAR. percy absolutely refuses to be one of those lousy boyfriends who don't even know what kind of jewelry their girlfriend wears. 

he’s been patiently waiting for the day when someone asks which color you prefer.  

this guy has your gas station order down to a tee! 

percy walks up to the passenger door with a plastic white bag in hand. he opens the door and begins to take out its contents, “thanks perce! you got my-”  “i got your arizona, the green tea flavor, and your hot fries. and yes, i made sure to shake all the bags to make sure i got the one that was optimally filled,” he responds, a smug expression spreading across his face.  with an impressed look, you nod your head in approval, “wow babe, you’ve really got my order down.”   percy nods his head pridefully, “i know.” 

dates where you two have to dress up are one of his favorites!! 

him seeing you all dolled up…whewww…someone call 911 for him. 

despite how much percy hates dressing up, he’d do it if it means he gets to see you all dressed up. 

percy makes you flower bouquets!! 

they’re always so unique and special every time?? you didn’t even know that camp had such a wide variety of flowers until he started making you bouquets. 

and he always makes sure to keep a flower in his cabin so he knows when it’s time to make you a new one jdfsklds

one of percy’s favorite things to do with you are little skincare nights! 

you’d come over to his cabin and you guys would light some candles and make tea. overall it’s a very calming ambience! 

even though it’s terrible for his skin, percy has an affinity for peel-off face masks. every single time, without fail, he’ll make some sort of joke about how he’s shedding. LMAO 

you look over in the bathroom mirror to see your boyfriend applying the very thing you hate, a peel-off face mask, “love, why can’t you be normal and use a sheet mask for once? or even a clay one like mine?” you point to your face.  percy takes a quick glance at you in the mirror and shrugs, continuing to apply the mask onto his skin, “those ones are lame, and it’s not fun if i can’t peel it off,” he responds, very concentrated on spreading the mask around. you cringe when he gets a glob of the mask onto his fluffy headband.  “well the formulas aren’t really good and it’s super irritating for your skin, babe,” you tell him, hoping that the thought of a damaged skin barrier scares him out of using peel-off masks.  “y/n, you can have the good skin. i’m fine with a damaged skin barrier or whatever,” percy replies, trying to remove the mask from his headband.  you roll your eyes, “whatever, lizard face.” 

you two are actually a match made in heaven <333 

[sluttyminghao]

Seventeen x Phone Sex

95 line - 96 line - 97 line - 98+99 line

♡ word count: 1.1k ♡ genre: smut - 18+ only ♡ a/n: here is the 96 line version! i hope you guys enjoy! shoutout to @bf-wonu and my friends at @svthub again for helping with this!

Junhui: This man would be insanely giggly every single time you suggest phone sex or have any conversation that leads up to it. He’s going to not be anywhere close to dominant, and may, in fact, become a little more submissive just because he doesn't know what way the conversation will end up going. Jun is going to be very whiny and tell you what to do, but he’s going to be edging himself for god knows how long because he’s addicted to your voice. Every single time you moan or whine out when your fingers touch your sensitive body, it sends a lightning bolt of want and need through his body and only makes him speed up his own hand movements. “You sound so pretty like this, wish it was me that was getting those noises out of you instead though.” I think he’s also the type to have like…a pillow he uses to fuck himself into or a fleshlight of some kind because he just needs to have his cock enveloped in something and hear your voice whilst simultaneously fucking into a fleshlight or a pillow? It would immediately send him over the edge. When he’s feeling dominant, however, i think he would definitely take action in telling you what to do, but would never tease you because he’s holding on for dear life with his own orgasm. He knows what you want and when you need it, so would get you to the edge super quickly.

Soonyoung: He’s definitely very impulsive when it comes to phone sex. You could be at home doing some work and all of a sudden he’s texting you like crazy and calling you a hundred times, and when you finally answer he’s heavily breathing and fucking himself up into his hand. Even though you can’t see him, you know exactly what’s happening and ask him what he’s been thinking about, only for him to retort back with some of the filthiest images either of you could think of. “Was thinking about how I tied you up the other day and your body looked so perfect and ready for me…and then also was thinking about that one time i made you cum so much you passed out” He would definitely also be the type to do video calls as well, and as soon as you pick up you know you’re in trouble when you see how he’s angled his phone just perfectly so that you can see every inch of him, and it gets you going immediately. Soonyoung is very “no thoughts just need to cum” and would be spouting orders for you left and right while he jacks himself off like he’s insane. He’d be telling you to strip for him, get your tits out and play with yourself until you’re both cumming, but he makes you wait until he’s about to cum so you can cum together. Immediately afterwards, he would send you photo proof of how much he came just so you know what you’re in for when he gets home.

Wonwoo: If there’s one thing everyone can agree on with Wonwoo, it’s that his deep voice would instantly have you cumming. He is definitely on the more dominant side when it comes to phone sex, he loves being able to guide you through with a stern voice, letting your whimpers and moans hit his ear in just the right way that his cock twitches. When he’s in the mood, you can tell because his voice drops at least an octave and grows raspy, which only lights the lust fire in your belly and drives you crazy. He would spill the filthiest phrases, telling you how bad he wants you and every single position he wants you in, as well as how much he wants to fill you up with his cum. He’s also definitely the type to play mind games with you, tell you that you can cum and then say things like “oh did I say you could cum? I didn't mean to, oops, now i guess you’ll have to make it up to me” or “if you didn’t cover your fingers then you didn’t fuck yourself hard enough”, and also loves using those toys you can connect to over wifi where he can control the vibrations and movements of said toy. He would make you cum so much with the toys that you grow so sensitive and he only draws it out even further for you, making you so sensitive to the slightest touches and vibrations have you moaning and clenching. His raspy voice wouldn't help either, especially so when he tells you he wishes your hand or mouth was wrapped around his cock rather than his own hand and he’d cum a lot, it’s splayed all over his thighs and abdomen and then also is wishing that you would be the one to clean it up for him. You’re just his good little whore, after all.

Jihoon: With Jihoon, it’s very common to have sex over the phone given his constant desire to want to be in the studio. He would probably have a schedule where he calls you like once or twice a week later at night, probably when he’s at his most frustrated when he’s producing or writing, and just lets his frustrations flow in the form of mutual masturbation. He wouldn’t be overly dominant or submissive, but rather just goes with how he’s feeling and how frustrated he is. If he’s been struggling for a while, he would probably go a little more dominant, and if he’s doing alright, he’d be pretty neutral. With how often you guys have sex over the phone, he would pretty much know exactly what to do and when, really has it down to a pinpoint on how well he knows you, down to your breathing patterns when you’re getting close to your orgasm. He would also be pretty easy to come undone as well, given that you can push his buttons hard enough. If he’s frustrated, you want to get him off in as little time as possible so that he can focus again. If he’s chill, then you can drag it out and edge him for a while until he finally snaps and switches to dominance. I think he’s not one to talk dirty often, and would only use it on the odd occasion where he’s feeling more dominant than normal. He’d be very careful with his wording but manages to speak fluently in dirty talk when he’s in the mood, calling you his good little slut and whore and getting you over the edge and getting you moaning which in turn, gets him to cum all over his thighs.

[arosesstorm]

wreathe ; sebastian sallow

words count: long read

fem reader! x Sebastian Sallow

warning: jealous Sebastian

summary: Sebastian looks like her bestfriend under the sunlight, but as soon as the night comes the lines get blurry and everyone's obvious to it.

part one, I guess?

English is not my first language, trying my best, enjoy :)

Sebastian was known for being a charmer and a good learner; people whispered about his ability in dueling and his look was praised by many. 

He had a habit of breaking the rules and he was stubborn, as much as it was allowed. 

What most people didn’t know about him though was that the boy had in fact scares so deep, every once in a while they started to bleed. 

And god was Sebastian Sallow hot headed. 

"Ominis!" You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around the boy’s neck as soon as you saw him. 

"I missed you" you whispered into the boy’s chest, his arms slowly holding you closer. 

"Well well, isn’t this our very own savior" the boy muttered smiling. 

After everything that had happened the year prior, Ominis had been a constant in your life; exchanging letters almost every day over summer, the two of you had met up to hang out a few times too. 

He used to tell you about his family issues while you confessed yours. 

Your bond became so strong you felt he was the brother you never had. 

"Y/n!" You turned your head just in time to see Anne sprint your way and wrap her arms around your torso. 

"Anne" you smiled, embracing her, "it’s good to see you". 

She looked good, you couldn’t help but notice, her cheeks were pink, and she seemed to have gained a few pounds too; she was surely looking much better than the last time you had saw her. 

"I can’t tell you how excited I am to be back, even if I have a load of work to catch up to", a breath and then a whisper: "uncle Solomon won’t admit it but he’s happy he is finally alone". 

Anne left your side then to crush into Ominis. 

That’s when your eyes had met his. 

"No hugs for me?" The boy had asked, with that same playful tone you’ve grown to love. 

If possible, your smile grew bigger.

"Sebastian" you mumbled, letting the brunette cage you in a hug. 

Sebastian had always been your light in your time at Hogwarts: with all the fights, the heartbreak and the laughters he had somehow guided you through your first year in the magical world. 

Sticking by his side at first felt natural, like you two were somehow tied together; that was, until you grew attached and your new best friend felt more like a man to you. 

Everyone knew: you, Sebastian and Ominis were a solid trio, when you were looking for one you always found the other two nearby. 

But this year, with the newfound health of Anne since the death of Lockwood, your trio was about to become a quartet and you were somehow excited. 

"How have you been?" You whispered in Sebastian’s ear, his nose brushing against your hair as he muttered back: "Good, kinda missed you". 

"Come on guys! We’re gonna be late!" Anne was excitedly pushing you towards the great hall before you could protest. 

Back in your seats, with Sebastian’s shoulder brushing against yours, you realized how affected you actually were by his presence. 

This year was going to be a long one… 

The morning after, you woke up to an excited Anne walking around the room putting on her robes as she was chased by Imelda’s harsh insults. 

"Please shut up" the brunette pleaded as the Sallow girl kept on rumbling how exciting this whole journey was going to be. 

"It’s first day, can you guys believe it?" She squitted, disappearing into the Common room, leaving you two behind. 

"I swear if she doesn’t calm down".

When you saw the girl again you couldn’t help but notice her bright eyes as she was laughing with Ominis at the Breakfast table. 

"Goodmorning" you spoke, approaching your friends, sliding swiftly beside Sebastian. 

"Good morning to you" the boy spoke, gently brushing your shoulder once you were seated. 

"What were you guys talking about?" 

"Ah! They were vexing me" Sebastian spoke "it is fortunate you came to rescue me". 

"Oh Sallow, how many times will I have to save your ass?" 

Anne chuckled out loud as Sebastian let out a scoff "nevermind, you’re even worse than them" 

Before heading to your first lesson of the day, Charms, you passed by the Gryffindor table, hoping to see the friends you still haven’t had the opportunity to meet. 

"Natty!" 

The girl turned around with a smile, "y/n! How have you been? Did you receive my owl?" 

"I very much did, thank your granny for those cookies, they were amazing". 

"Which cookies? And why didn’t I get any?" Garreth’s voice rose from beside natty as you aknolowged the boy. 

His red hair were longer and his shoulders broader, it was hard to tell since he was seated, but you could definetly say he had grown up. 

"Shut up, Garreth" Natty had dismissed the boy as you left the table. 

Ominis was waiting for you at the entrance as you both left to class. 

That night, seated by the fire in your common room, you were reading a book while Anne was making small conversation with Imelda. 

You didn’t know how the conversation led to it, but Grreth’s name was brought up, Imelda noticing how much the ginger had grown over summer, pointing out he would have made a fine beater. 

"You were talking to him this morning, weren’t you y/n?" 

Your attention was suddenly brought back to the present. 

"Yes", "could there be something tender?" Imelda smirked as your nose left the pages to focus on the conversation. 

"Obviously not" you had replied, to which Anne softly smiled, "Imelda, quiet down, people are gonna hear us". 

"You’re no fun" she had replied, changing topic. 

That night, as you lied in bed, you kept on asking yourself if in fact you were somehow charmed by Weasley, or any boy for that matter and the answer came like a whisper, so soft you couldn’t hear it either. 

"Who do you think is gonna make team this year?" Anne had asked, walking with you, Omins and Sebastian to Hogsmade. 

"Why do you suddenly care about Quidditch?" Sebastian had asked. 

"I haven’t seen a game in ages!" She replied stern.

The bickering between twins bringing a smile to your face as you locked your arm with Ominis, "hey you".

While the twins bickering fell into the background, Ominis turned to you "what about this thing with Weasley?" 

"Ominis!" You scolded suddenly, taken aback by his comment, "how do you know?" 

Ominis scrolled his shoulders "so it is true? You fancy him?" 

"Who fancies whom?" Sebastian had token a step forward, suddenly intrigued by your discussion with Omins as you held the blond boy’s arm tighter, that was enough of an answer for him. 

"Oh nobody, just stupid chatters" the boy dismissed before Sebastian could investigate further. 

The thought of you fancying someone hunted the boy for the rest of the day, even when the night had quieted the chatter down and everyone went to sleep. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about it, so he left the warmth of his bedsheets, putting on a green and silver jumper and disappearing into the corridors. 

Making his way to the common room Sebastian was surprised to see someone else there. 

Their head was stuck in a book and their legs curled up onto the couch. 

He had recognized right away the silhouette and he felt like smiling. 

You had escaped your room that night, determined to finish the book you had been reading. 

It didn’t startle you when you felt a weight pop beside you on the couch, instead you couldn’t help but smile when Sebastian lowered the book from your hands, meeting your gaze. 

"Come back to me, will you?" He had whispered chuckling. 

"I was just about to find out where the main character had disappeared to" you answered, your smile betraying your fake annoyance. 

Sebastian chuckled again, his gaze shifting towards the fire. 

"Couldn’t sleep?" You asked then, your gaze worried. 

The boy hummed. 

This scene had happened so many times already: the boy sadly confessing the pain of his sister’s illness to you, in the dark of the common room, only allowing himself to be vulnerable in your presence. 

But this time, this time his sister was better, sleeping peacefully upstairs and you were there, with your eyes sleepy and your skin warm. 

So Sebastian found himself smiling as he looked your way. 

Your arm was resting on the back of the couch as it held your heavy head up, you were facing him, your breathing softly pleasant. 

"Do you really fancy someone?" The boy found himself ask, suddenly. 

You chuckled, looking at him playfully. 

"Why?" You had asked. 

"Just curious, you never told me you liked someone". 

"It’s not- it’s Imelda starting stupid rumors to see me flustered, that’s all" you reassure. 

He could finally relax, his back meeting the cushions as his fingers traveled to your leg. 

"You want to finish the book, don’t you?" 

"It’s fine" you laughed, but Sebastian didn’t buy it. 

"Come on, finish it, I’ll keep you company". 

It was hard to focus back on the story, with his hand tracing small circles above your bare leg, but it became quickly a gentle caress as you kept on reading. 

It was ten minutes later when you started to get sleepier. 

"Seb" you muttered closing the book, the boy humming while looking at you. 

"We should get some sleep". 

"Maybe we should" 

Neither of you making the move to leave. 

"I’m comfy" you admit laughing softly.

"Let’s not leave yet, then" he spoke. 

The fire was cracking in the background when you shifted, moving closer to the boy, your head now resting on his shoulder as you fell into the warmth of his body. 

Sebastian held his hand firmer on your leg now, helping you get closer, as he rested his head on top of yours. 

"Would you tell me?" He asked then. 

"Tell you what?" 

"If you fancied someone, would you tell me?" 

"Yes Sebastian, if I’ll ever find someone pleasant enough, I promise I will tell you first". 

Four weeks had passed since the start of term and with October approaching the air had got chillier and the days shorter. 

You had spent the last three hours in the library, making a research for a new species of mimbulus mimbletonia, something professor Sharp believed to be absolutely essential and you were ready to hide into the comfort of your room and fall asleep. 

"Y/n!" 

Your eyes travelled the room till they settled on the young man dressed in red and gold making his way towards you. 

"Hey, Garreth" 

"Hey" he smiled softly, "were you headed to your common room?" 

"Yes"

"Mind if I accompany you?"

"Hu? Ah no, you can come". 

You and the boy left the library, heading for the dungeons. 

"I was wondering if you had a spere hour tomorrow morning? If I can be honest with you I’m not keeping up well with Onai’s crap about tea leaves". 

You couldn’t help but slip a laugh.

"So now you’re laughing at me?" a playful smile plastered on his lips.

"No, no, I’m sorry."

You turned to your right, Garrett following behind as you started to walk down the stairs. 

"I have a free hour right after breakfast, sounds good?". 

Garreth’s smile widened "sound lovely to me". 

"What is it that you fail to get about the art of predicting catastrophes?" You teased as the boy stroke his neck. 

"I seem to prefer to see only the bright side" 

Letting out a stern chuckle you jumped the last step, the sliver snake appearing on the wall as you turned around to face the ginger. 

"First lesson: there are no bright sings in divination". 

You herd someone caugh as you turned around, Sebastian was lying by the door, his eyes locked onto you. 

"Goodnight, Garreth" you spoke as you made your way into the Slytherin common room. 

Garreth looking at you disappear before Sebastian followed inside and the door turned to be a wall again. 

"Escorted by Weasley, huh?" 

The sound of the water fountain running in your ears as you made your way downstairs with Sebastian. 

"It seems so" you had replied distracted, something that sent Sebastian’s soul on fire. 

As soon as you stepped into the common room, Imelda’s voice rose up. 

"So I was right? Weasley boy for the win?" 

You scoffed and Sebastian felt his body go still. 

Were you really going out with that loser? 

He didn’t know how much it bothered him, until the following day, at breakfast as he was talking about something funny that happened in his class you excused yourself, mumbling you had to meet up with someone. 

Of course, that someone was Weasley and of course, as impulsive as he was, he was tempted to follow you. 

"Sebastian" Ominis had called, sensing the shifting of his robes, "please don’t do it". 

Sebastian had scoffed then, returning to his place, violently eating was was left in his plate. 

He had time to calm down until he saw you again: your shoulders were moving up and down softly as you rested your head on a potion’s book, peacefully swimming into sleep. 

It felt like his anger disappeared for a second as he pulled a chair close to yours, his own head resting on the table as he looked at you. 

He stole a few glances at your harmless form, before squeezing your shoulder softly. 

He felt like choking when you softly smiled at him as soon as you your eyes opened. 

"Sebastian" you spoke, a voice so soft he thought he had never heard something more adorable in his life. 

"Why are you resting your head on the table?" You had asked then, to which Sebastian smiled. 

"I heard this is were we take naps" the boy teased as you shifted softly, a strand of hair falling into your eyes. 

Sebastian’s finger brushed it off softly, moving a strand behind your ear, discovering your face once again. 

That gesture might have woken you up suddenly because you jumped on your seat, quickly collecting your things.

"Oh god, I really fell asleep!" 

"Hey, hey, calm down there, will you?" 

But your panic only increased as you saw what time it was. 

"I was supposed to meet Garrett half an hour ago!" 

"Garret? Again?" 

"Yes, we didn’t get to finish this morning"

If he had known that waking you up would have resulted in you leaving him behind for Weasley, he would have much preferred watching you sleep. 

Sebastian got up at the same time as you, his anger coming back to him in waves, "does Weasley really need your help?". 

You looked taken aback "yes, he has told me himself he needs help in divination". 

Sebastian chuckled darkly, "and he asked you?" 

"Are you saying I’m not competent enough?" Your demeanour suddenly changed and Sebastian witnessed as your soft aura started to tint black. 

He knew this side of you, he had seen it one to many times and it didn’t scare him, in fact, it fascinated him. 

The fire in your eyes was matched now, as Sebastian grew taller. 

"I’m saying you wouldn’t be the first person that pops into my mind". 

You scoffed then, holding the books closer to your chest, pride filling your lungs. 

"How about you leave the adults to study and mind your business?"

"The adults?"

"Yes you child" 

You tried to turn away from him then, but the boy wouldn’t let you go far. 

"Hey! Don’t turn your back on me while I’m talking!"

"You’re not talking Sebastian, you’re behaving like a five years old"

"Said the one who can’t finish a conversation like two mannered people!"

Your eyes got bigger "are you saying I’m not well mannered either?" 

A sigh escaped your lips "listen Sallow-"

"Sallow?"

"That’s still your name isn’t it?" 

"Thought you preferred to call me something else". 

That unusual use of words didn’t go unheard from you, as you stared deep into the boy’s orbits. 

"Careful there, Sallow, you sound almost-"

"Almost what?" The brunette challenged you. 

You felt your blood boil as a voice raised from the students around"get a room!" Someone yelled out. 

"Shut it!" You both replied, parting ways, boiling inside, holding hands with pride. 

"She’s so stubborn!" Sebastian huffed.

"Mh what a news" Omins mumbled. 

"It’s just, do you even think she’s good in divination?" 

Ominis did seem startled by the question, but he answered nonetheless. 

"I mean, is there a thing y/n is not good at?" 

Sebastian couldn’t answer as he sighed flustered. 

"He’s a nightmare Anne!" Y/n complained pacing back and forward into their room. 

The twin of her best friend, who was at the moment an annoying prick, was resting on her bed, trying to take care of a strange purple plant. 

The Sallow girl hummed, listening to her friend rumble. 

"He practically attacked me! Saying I’m incompetent? After everything I did?" 

"You know he doesn’t think that about you" Anne scolded. 

"But he said it! The way he was looking at me Anne, I felt like jinxing him on the spot!"

The twin left a chuckle, "you know he’s protective of you y/n". 

Y/n fell into the bed, her hands tight knots as she sighed flustered, "the way that boy riles me up!"

© 2024 of Mia (arosesstorm). All Rights Reserved.

[disneyprincemuke]

get this right * aa23

the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

pairings: alex albon x fem!reader

warnings: literally nOthing just a buNCH OF CUTE SHIT

notes: YALL i’ve been simping for this man for like weeks but in my head, he’s just such a sweetheart that i can’t imagine him in bad situations and nOW I FINALLY GOT IT

also… i’m really liking these multiple scenario fics… if you guys have any suggestions with stuff you want to see, please feel free to send them in here and this has been in my drafts since october oh my gooooood

(f1 masterlist)

“you’re telling me you already bought the ring?” max raises an eyebrow at alex, completely baffled at the story his friend has chosen to bestow upon them.

to the question, alex nods. his head snaps to george, who then asks, “and you’ve had it for almost a month?”

again, the thai nods. “and you have yet to propose?” lando says his piece, just as shocked as the rest of the table is.

alex can only nod, dropping his head in disappointment. in the middle of their circular table sat a red velvet box. inside it is the ring that alex had very carefully picked out with his sisters and mother.

yet the diamond ring sits comfortably in the box instead of your finger. and so does he amongst his friends while he faces the million dollar questions as to why he’s had the ring and has yet to propose to you.

“are you having second thoughts?” charles speaks up, tilting his head and biting his lips in curiosity.

if the answer were to be a ‘yes’, that would be worrisome. considering alex is one of the more romantic people they all know.

“no,” alex finally speak, putting a firm hand down on the table. he meets all of their eyes and feels the judgement. he sighs. “i’m not having second thoughts. i want to marry (y/n) just as much as i said before.”

george lifts his hands up and throws alex a questioning shrug. “so what’s holding you back then?”

“well…” alex chews on the inside of his cheek. he glances down at the box and scrunches up his nose, recounting the numerous times he has tried to get on one knee for you.

“i’m afraid it’s really not that simple.”

-> 20 days ago

alex glances at the door of your shared apartment then his eyes jump to the clock hanging just above your decorative plant. you should be home any minute.

the living room has been decorated beautifully with the help of his sisters. there is a singular heart helium balloon tied down to the bouquet of roses that sits on the kitchen island.

he’s even dressed up in his best suit to greet you a warm welcome home.

he sinks further into his couch, shaking his leg in anticipation. he runs his thumb over the velvet material of the box.

alex hadn’t been planning on proposing to you so soon, if he were to be honest. but he woke up that morning to empty half of the bed, with a note in your handwriting reminding him how much you love him and that breakfast is on the table.

his heart felt so full and he just knew today is the day.

so he got up and called his sisters up. they decorated the house together. with their help, he at least has the slightest idea of what to say to you.

it would be embarrassing if he was stuttering every 5 seconds thinking of what to say to you next.

it was 15 minutes later that he started to get worried about you. you usually get home from work around the same time whenever he’s in town — give or take about 5 minutes.

as if you’d read his mind, his phone lights up with a text notification from you.

my car died. can you pick me up please?

without another question, he is already typing a response to let you know that he will be on the way. he adds on the fact that he will call a tow truck for you after you send him your location.

when he gets there, he sighs in relief that you’re safe. he’d already known you were stuck in the parking lot of a mcdonald’s, but how can he really know when he’s rarely home?

you’re sitting on the trunk of your car, eating some ice cream with your phone propped up a box of nuggets. you’re fully occupied by a video you’ve put on to accompany yourself during the wait.

“my love, why didn’t you sit in the car where the seat’s more comfortable?” alex asks as he opens the car door.

you turn your head and open your mouth with an answer, but immediately close it when he comes into view. your eyes scan him up and down, slowly gulping the remaining ice cream in your mouth.

you point at him with the spoon of your mcflurry. “why are you dressed all fancy? you were gonna go out, love?”

alex freezes. he hadn’t even thought of changing out of his outfit before coming to get you. now he has to scrape his brain for an excuse to throw you off, without sabotaging the relationship whole.

it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head. you’ll totally buy the excuse. “i was giving my clothes a test run,” he giggles sheepishly, but hesitantly from the daggers you were shooting at him. “wanted to see what fit and what didn’t.”

he can almost envision the gears turning in your head as you process his lie. he sighs again when you turn away to lock your phone.

he’s a very bad liar. for two people who have been together for as long as you’ve been, it’s very easy to spot all his telltales.

he tries his best not to lie to you. today is when he’s exerting every single ounce of his ability to do so.

“my car battery died. i saw a screw lose when i’d checked,” you explain, gently climbing off the back of your car. you waddle over to him, lips puckered up as he bends down to meet your lips. “i’m sorry to trouble you, love. i’m sure you were enjoying your fashion show.”

he chuckles, pulling you in for a quick hug. “anything for you, my love.” he walks over to where you are and opens the mcdonald’s paper bag. “oh, you bought us dinner?”

“you dinner,” you correct him. you lean slightly into him with a loud and frustrated huff with your arms hanging around him loosely. “i’ve had such a long day at work today. it could really be deemed as the worst day; i just want to go home and relax.”

alex scrambles in his mind, thinking of several ways he can deviate you from the house a little longer. he makes a mental note to text his sister to do a quick cleanup before you make your way home.

he simply refuses to propose to you when you’re in a bad mood. he doesn’t think your answer would change depending on how you currently feel, but it just doesn’t feel right.

alex hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you. “what do you say we go to our spot up in the hills and chill for a little bit?”

he watches you in anticipation. if you didn’t agree, he really wouldn’t know what to do at all. there are only so many excuses he can make. and there's only so much time before his sisters can get to the apartment and get cleaning.

“hm, okay." you lean into him and squeeze him in your hug. “anywhere with you is relaxing.”

-> 18 days ago

so alex shall try again in the planned department. he is once again in your shared apartment. there is a singular rose this time with dinner on the table. this time, decorated by himself.

he’s practised in the mirror. what he should say. everything he had planned out a few days ago is forgotten as the nerves are slightly different this time.

he doesn't get nervous often, but whenever it comes to you, it's inevitable that it bothers him. when it first happened, it was a confusing feeling that he spent days pondering what exactly it is.

when george smacked his head and told him, he looked down shyly at the ground and nodded.

he got the same feeling when he asked you to be his girlfriend and met your parents.

his chosen seat is a bar stool this time, and he plays some games on his phone to remain calm and collected. though still a little bit distracted.

his attention is split between the phone in his hands and the door. occasionally, the footsteps in the hallway make his heart stop as he looks up and waits for a lock to click. it's never the door he wants to open.

his game is briefly interrupted, his mother's picture flashing on the screen while his phone buzzes. it's not unusual that she's calling, but it is a bit of a shock since she knows he's planning to propose tonight.

he picks up the call, an explanation as to why he hasn't texted at the tip of his tongue.

“i’m sorry, sweetie,” his mother’s panicked voice comes through the phone. “can you please come over? it’s an emergency.”

that’s all he needed to hear before he was darting all over the apartment. he’s popped the balloon, as there was clearly no need for it tonight, the rose is hiding behind a bunch of folded shirts in his drawer and the velvet red box goes back into the deepest pit of his underwear drawer.

this time, he remembers to change out of his clothes. it’s slightly less put together than before, but it was still an effort.

“alex, love?” the sound of the door opening makes him perk up. your voice bounces through the apartment, followed by the pitter-patter of the cats’ nails against the hardwood floor. “are you home?”

he stumbles out of your bedroom, pulling up his sweatpants. “i need to go over to mum’s.”

you stop dead in your tracks, the door still held open and the key in your hands. clearly, you notice his panic in the way he’s barely even greeted you. you raise your eyebrows and step aside, leaving a gap for him to go through the door.

“i can drive you if you want,” you offer him, watching him jog towards the car keys.

he’s shaking, and it’s noticeable from the way he’s struggling to find his wallet. his wallet that is very clearly sitting above the shoerack in the entryway.

you grab it swiftly and say his name. it makes him stop briefly, turning to you as he held up the couch’s cushion, still in search of his wallet.

you lift up the leather item and then show him your car keys. you nudge your head towards the hallway. “come on, i’ll drive.”

-> 10 days ago

third time's the charm, right? right?

alex sits in his chair, hands fixing his collar, then his hair, picking at the menu, and then the lace table cover.

"hey, love," you say from behind him, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. "i'm sorry i'm late. there was traffic in the parking lot at the office."

"don't worry about it. i just arrived not too long ago." alex gets up to his feet, pulling you in for a tight hug. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before running over to pull your seat back for you.

you thank him with the squeeze of his arm while you take your seat. you grab the menu and get comfortable in your seat. "have you looked at the menu yet?"

"not yet, i was waiting for you."

he feels like a stalker watching you from across the table. his hand is in his jacket's pocket, rubbing circles over the velvety material once more. when exactly is the right time to ask you?

"how was work?" alex starts, taking the menu into his hands, looking at you shyly as he awaits your response.

"it's alright. nothing out of the ordinary from me," you mutter with a shrug, flashing him a small grin before returning your attention to the menu. "the pasta looks good, don't you think?"

"i saw their salmon dish online - that looked good," alex answers. but he's been on the same page of the menu for a hot minute, his eyes have read the same item so many times that he has its description memorised.

all he can think of is how to transition to popping the question.

"it does look delicious... do you want to share a dessert after too?" you inquire, looking up at him with a huge smile. "i really want the lava cake."

"with vanilla ice cream?"

"of course!"

and you make small talk with him. which almost makes him forget the ring that's in the pocket of his jacket. you talk and he thinks and thinks and tries to find the perfect time to pop the question to you.

until your smile drops and your head angles to the side slightly. your lips part as your eyes move from his, over to the door in pure shock.

"love, what's wrong?" alex follows your moving gaze.

and he also freezes in his seat. it's his ex-girlfriend. the same exact person that you'd mentioned you thought you could never live up to.

all because his mother had slipped up and asked about her over casual conversation over dinner, and because you had noticed that his sisters still kept in constant contact with her.

he watches you, from the corner of his eyes, sink into your seat and drop your head. you press your lips together and give him a small smile. "maybe let's cancel dessert? i'm not very hungry."

-> now

"do you get why it's a little complicated now?" alex groans, throwing his head back. "it's not like i haven't tried."

charles presses his lips together, nodding slightly as he tries to assess the situation for himself. he hasn't proposed to anybody in his life, so what advice does he have to give his friend? "maybe you're overthinking it?"

"yeah," george nods. "maybe you just have to... ask her. just ask her."

"you're aware i'm proposing to her. i'm not just asking some random girl to be my prom date to the dance," alex lays out his situation slowly, scanning his friends' faces carefully.

they're not serious about just asking you without a whole get-up, are they? he never would have asked them if he'd known how minuscule this issue was to them. it's never as simple as just asking you to marry him.

it's an important question.

"actually, i think twiddle dee and twiddle dum have got a point," max smiles, pointing at their two other friends now rolling their eyes. "if it all keeps blowing up in your face when you plan your proposal, maybe you just need to do it when you... get the feeling. you know?"

"no."

"just do it when you're so overwhelmed at the thought of spending the rest of your life with her," george shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "would help the nerves, and it makes it more genuine."

alex shakes his head. "i don't know. that doesn't make the moment very special, now, does it?"

"just try it, and then let me know."

-> 5 days later

"love!" your excited voice fills the house, prompting alex to lift his head from the armrest of the couch.

he'd been home all day, claiming a rest day from the gym and other press commitments before he had to do it all over again this weekend for another race.

"yes, love?" alex smiles, opening his arms, watching you walk out of the kitchen and excitedly walk over to him. "what's got you so preppy?"

"love, i was outside coming home from work, and i saw the cutest little snail right outside the apartment building," you giggle, dropping your bag by the foot of the couch. you drop yourself into his arms, adjusting yourself to fit the small space that the couch provides you. "i took a picture, look!"

"you took a picture of a snail?"

"yes!" you nod. "its shell looked so beautiful. and i even moved it to the side so that nobody could step on it unknowingly. just so sad when that happens to them."

and then he knows. it hits him, then and there, while you were rambling on about how beautiful this snail's shell is, that this is the moment. this is the moment that max was talking about.

he props his head up with his hand, nodding as you zoom into the picture you'd taken.

"we should get married," alex blurts, unable to hold himself back. the ring is not even with him - it's somewhere in the back of his closet. but it doesn't even seem like a necessary accessory for him at the moment.

"what?" you tilt your head, slowly dropping your hand into your lap. you sit up and look down at him. "alex, what did you say?"

"i have the ring and everything. hold on." alex scrambles to get off his seat, but you shake your head and put a hand over his chest. you pull him back into the couch, maintaining his position next to you with a puzzled stare.

"did you just say what i thought you just said?"

"yes. and i've been trying to propose to you all month," alex sighs, "something always goes wrong: your car broke down, my mum called, then we saw my ex in the restaurant. i tried setting it up, and of course, i ask you when i don't have the ring with me."

he's flailing his arms in the air as he explains his troubles to you, ultimately throwing his hands towards the direction of your bedroom before he slumps his shoulders and looks at you. "i wanted it to be a picture-perfect moment. i wanted it to be everything you dreamt about growing up. remember?"

"so i heard you right? you're asking me to marry you?" you can barely hide the smile growing on your face, eyes tearing up as you grab his hands. "i don't care about the ring. you're asking me to marry you?"

"do you still want to? i couldn't even propose to you right."

"of course, i want to marry you," you giggle, throwing your arms around him. you pepper his cheek with kisses, alex hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist as he leans back onto the couch. "i love you, alex. you just had to ask me the question. i don't care how, where or when you'd say it."

"obviously, i didn't know that until now," alex laughs. he buries his face into your hair, making a mental note to thank max next weekend for the helpful tip.