#and lo and behold there YOU are teaching it

[six-of-ravens]

anyway the "stop so people don't follow you into the parkade" rule always seemed stupid to me because I was like "what do you even do if someone follows you in lmao"

and then the ONE TIME. the ONE TIME I try to Do My Part to enforce that rule SOME GUY DECIDES TO BE THE BIGGEST ASSHOLE ON THE PLANET ABOUT IT!

[princessbrunette]

omg omg jj catching reader masturbating while watching jb x sarah sex tape…

୭ 🧁 ✧ ˚. 🎀

no cos he’s literally so gross and a bully …. you’d think you’re home alone at the chateau and would whip out the video you conveniently forgot to delete, slipping a hand between your legs and stroking your clit through your panties, biting your lip whimpering all depraved cos you still don’t know how to properly get yourself off……

and lo and behold jj appears behind the couch, crouching down to say “what’cha watchin’ hot stuff?” making you jump out of your skin !! you get all hot and start explaining yourself and he starts laughing n grabs your phone and holds it out of your grasp…… not letting you grab it back whilst you’re whining on the verge of tears begging him not to tell…….. he wrestles you down on the couch, still laughing and holding the phone away from you as sarah’s moans just play in the background and eyes you up all “yeah i’ll keep your secret, gotta do sum’ for me though first yeah? just a ‘lil secret thing. i won’t tell ‘em.” because actually he knows if you do tell them he’ll be the one to get into trouble because they have a set plan!!!!! they don’t need jj rushing ahead!!!!!!

and you’re all doe eyed nodding up at him and he looks around, glancing out the window to check they’re not coming back before unbuckling his belt with one hand. “gonna teach you somethin’ alright? just a few little kisses on my dick n’i’ll let you off.”

“jayj…” you squirm, though you’re cunt gets all hot and even stickier at the thought even though you’ve never reached that territory before.

“yeah yeah, s’gross whatever. don’t wanna have to tell my friends about you watchin’ them fuck like some kinda perv though. seriously… wonder what they’d say…”

and just like that you’re scrambling to your knees all eager!!!!

୭ 🧁 ✧ ˚. 🎀

[reiding-writing]

Spencer who learned like a whole sss language or something niche like knitting, so he can teach it to reader cause he heard her talking about how hard it is to find a good teacher???

acts of service [ s.r ]

Summary:

Hobbies are supposed to be relaxing. So when Spencer sees you dwindle into frustration at your newfound hobby of embroidery, he takes it upon himself to teach you better than any low quality youtube tutorial would.

WARNINGS: unserious threat of self-induced harm, lots of mentions of needles and piercing things, horrible description of how to do a chain stitch 😭

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 2.0k

masterlist!!

a/n: i genuinely spent about 15 minutes trying to figure out how to do a goddamn chain stitch because lo and behold, the internet sucks when it comes to tutorials 😭

Spencer watches from across his desk as you re-attempt a stitch in your embroidery hoop for the sixth time before giving up and throwing the hoop down on your desk with a huff and leaving to get a cup of coffee, muttering something under your breath about “Stupid stitches,”

He’d been watching you try in vain to learn to embroider for almost three weeks, and it was getting to the point where he was frustrated for you.

You’d picked it up as a way to relieve your stress whilst working, and instead you’ve manged to frustrate yourself to the point where you’re literally having to remove yourself from your desk to calm yourself down.

“Are you alright?” Spencer raises his eyebrow at you as you return to your desk with a cup of coffee cupped in your hands, and you sigh as you take a seat.

“I’m two minutes away from sticking my embroidery needle in my eye so I don’t have to look at this monstrosity anymore-” You place your mug down on your desk, holding the embroidery hoop to your face to judge your own creation.

“Please don’t,” Spencer’s tone carries genuine care for your well being, but its also followed by a laugh on the back end which indicates he knows you’re not serious.

“Why do I do this to myself?” You ask the question to no one in particular as you lean your head over the back of your chair, swivelling it back and forth with your foot as a pivot and leaving your hand to fall into your lap.

“Studies have shown that having hobbies, particularly creative ones, can decrease the amount of cortisol produced in our bodies over time, leading to an overall more relaxed state of being,” Spencer mirrors the way you turn in your chair as he watches you, answering your rhetorical question as if it were completely serious.

“I can tell you right now that I am the exact opposite of relaxed,” You exhale through your nose, joined by a shake of your head as you straighten your posture once more. “I think its time I cut my losses and give up,”

“No you should keep up with it, it’ll be much easier once you’ve got the hang of things,” He tilted his head slightly at you as he voiced his encouragement.

“Easy for you to say Mr. ‘I have an 187 IQ and an eidetic memory’,” You roll your eyes at him, although your expression betrays the fact that you’re not truly antagonistic towards his intelligence. “Half of the tutorials i’m watching don’t even actually show how to do anything,”

Spencer chuckles as your eyes examine the three straight lines of red stitching in the fabric like you were trying to incinerate them with your mind before discarding the hoop to the corner of your desk to actually get some work done.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It’s two weeks before the topic of embroidery comes up again, you sat cross-legged and hunched over in your jet seat on the way back from a case in Montana, eyes boring into the fabric as you tried to create a shape vaguely resembling a circle.

“You shouldn’t hunch over like that you know,” Spencer sat down in the seat next to you with a yawn, leaning back against the padding of the leather chair with his head tilted in your direction. “It’ll tighten the muscles in your neck and give you a tension headache,”

You huff at his chastising of your posture considering his own but straighten your back nonetheless, holding your embroidery hoop at eye-level as you carefully puncture the fabric.

He’s glad to see that you haven’t given up on embroidery yet. Partly because it’s good for you to have a hobby that had zero relation to your job and partly because it meant that his 18 hours of research over the last ten days hadn’t been in vain.

“If you’re going in a circle it’s better to use a chain stitch,”

Your eyes flicker upwards at Spencer’s suggestion, wonky thread oval forgotten about as you narrow your eyes at him slightly in an accusatory fashion. “How do you know that?”

“I uh-” Spencer blinked a few times, eyes flickering across the jet’s cabin as he tried to find a reasonable explanation for his sudden knowledge in embroidery that wasn’t because he wanted to be able to teach it to you. “I know a lot of things,”

His intelligence was usually a valid excuse for whatever niche bit of information would come out of his mouth, but you knew for a fact that he had no prior knowledge on how to embroider something. He might have known the history of it at a stretch, but how to physically embroider something? Absolutely not.

If he had he would have told you weeks ago. So this was definitely something new.

“Mhmm, apparently so,” You nod with clear suspicion riddling your expression, but you weren’t about the turn away his help just because you were suspicious of the origins of his newfound expertise in embroidery. “Alright genius, show me then,”

You hold out the hoop in his direction and he takes it from you with an awkwardly endearing smile, un-stitching your botched attempt at a circle and turning the hoop at an angle so that you could see what he was doing.

It was only six stitches, but the way he passed the needle through the fabric was effortless, and it left a perfectly symmetrical blue circle in it’s wake.

“Chain stitching is much easier to curve than straight stitching due to the nature of how the needle passes through the fabric,”

If you weren’t so beholden to his ability to be good at absolutely everything he does you’re sure you’d be a little jealous. Or maybe it was the way his eyes glistened as he looked at you. No. It definitely wasn’t that. You were just grateful he was willing to help you, that’s all.

“Show me how to do it then if it’s so easy,” You shift yourself towards the leather arm that’s separating the two of you, leaning your elbows on it to watch him more closely as your eyes locked on the way the pads of his fingers held the needle.

“Here,” He held it out towards you, blunt side up, as an indication for you to take it. “I’ll walk you through it,”

You take the needle from him with a raised eyebrow, one that only continued to rise as he passed you back your embroidery hoop as well and leaned towards to to angle the fabric at a 45 degree angle towards himself so that he could see what you were doing.

“Alright, so first you want to pierce the needle through the back of the fabric towards you and pull all of the thread through,” You follow his instructions as he speaks, nodding once you’ve garnered yourself a big loop of thread that’s connected under the fabric at one end and your needle at the other.

“Alright?”

“Alright, now go back through that same hole from the top, and bring the needle back up through the fabric about a centimetre downwards, only half pulling the needle through,” You furrow your eyebrow slightly but try to follow him, although he stops you as you attempt to pull the needle all the way through with his hand on top of yours.

“Don’t pull it all the way back through,” He adjusts his body to face a similar direction to yours. “Here, let me help,”

His hands brush the tops of yours as one comes to assist you in holding up the hoop of fabric and the other guides your fingers in holding the needle. His skin is frigidly cold against your own, although whether that’s just because you run hotter than him or the fact that he’s so close to you you feel like you’re internally harbouring volcano you’re unsure.

With his hand guiding your own, you reinsert your needle back through the original hole you’d made from the top down and pierce it upwards through the fabric a little further across, leaving both the tip and the end of the needle above the fabric with the middle underneath.

“Good yeah, now this is the complicated bit, you need to get the rest of your thread,” He loops his ring finger around the excess thread, and makes an effort to move his fingers as slowly as possible so that you can see exactly what he’s doing. “and wrap the start of it underneath the tip of your needle,”

He demonstrates his words as he speaks, pulling the beginning of the loop of thread tight underneath the tip of the needle before slowly pushing the needle all the way through the fabric until it’s free once more, and there’s a small looped stitch in the fabric.

“And then to create your next stitch you do the same steps, but start inside of the first loop,” He again demonstrates his words as he uses your hands to make a second stitch that, like the name suggests’ creates a two-stitch chain from where the stitches are connected.

“See, really simple, just a little convoluted in terms of instructions,” His eyes turn away from the fabric and back towards yours once he’s finished his explanation, although yours remain on your needle. “Think you can do it on your own?”

It takes you a second to come back to your senses, and you blink up at him blankly for a moment before nodding, a soft “yeah I think so…” echoing from your throat.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were to distracted by the way his hands moved against yours to listen to a single thing he said.

“Let me know if you need any more help okay?” He gave you that awkwardly endearing smile that reached his eyes and made you want to scream into your hands at the prospect of being so perfect.

You return it with a half-stunted nod as you desperately turn your eyes downwards to your fabric again, unable to look at him any longer without flushing red light a traffic light. “Yeah thanks-”

“I’ll teach you how to do a running whipped stitch next, it uses two different colours of thread,”

Whipped is right-

Spencer’s tone held all the enthusiasm of a child who’d just learned that you could mix multiple colours to create a new one, and it easily rubs off on you as you resign yourself to actually listening to what he’s trying to teach you instead of just fawning over how it feels when he touches you.

“Can you- show me how to do a chain stitch one more time?”

“Of course!”

The minute his hands touch yours again you know you’re done for.

[heedmywarnings]

Again?

In where I am tired as shit so I wrote this dumbfuck continuation of a sagau fic as I wait for my fake airpods to finish charging.

Chapter 2 -《 》 - Chapter 4

Navigation

♤-~-♤

Running, you were running. Of the many atrocities you faced, this one was more atrocious than Jake Gyllenhaal. Of all times, WHY NOW? why were you suddenly transported to Teyvat!? Well now you've concluded that... this was in fact not a dream and a case of isekai.

"HALT IN THE NAME OF BARBATOS!"

"FUCK BARBATOS"

Okay, that might've aggravated the knights but in this scenario, who the fuck cares? You're being hunted with nobody on your side, times like these--survival justifies the mean.

With an arrow throught your ankle and forearm you hastily ran for Liyue where you are met with the Conqueror of Demons. He holds his spear with a deathly grip and his head high, "You cannot run forever with an arrow through your ankle," He says, readying his weapon, "You must have ankle kink if you're noticing my ankle, heh," "Foolish,"

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to provoke Xiao, but then again, it was kinda funny. You sloppily dodged all his attacks, maybe "dodged" is too much of a strong word since you just go tgrazed by his weapon, but not fully stabbed. Why isn't he actually trying to strike you where you're vulnerable?

Eius Mortem, my death was not caused by the burning claymore. It was the truth, an exchange of knowledge. What does he have to do with this?

No matter, you ran away not caring for the pulsing pain on your ankle. You whipped your head back around to see Xiao, motionless, not even following you. Liyue is too dangerous for you, so your best option is to seek shelter at the Chasm, but then again, the treasure hoarders will find you and would probably sell you... Sumeru it is then.

The evergreen beauty of the forest surrounds you, a moment of peace, a moment to breathe was gifted to you.

"Eh?"

!!!

"Who goes there!? Oh, it's just God-nara,"

...God-nara..? You exhaled knowing it was just an Aranara but the nickname it have you was totally uncalled for! God-nara? "God-nara is hurt, come with Aragaru," 'it' suddenly pulled your hand and started leading you somewhere, "H-hey wait a second! Where are we going?"

"Varanara"

"I have somewhere to go.. can you just help me with my wounds?"

"Hmm"

The Aranara who called itself Aragaru thought for a moment before agreeing with, "Woah, how'd you know hot to bandage this?" You ask in fascination, "Golden nara taught me, Golden nara says Aragaru should be more careful when picking flowers.." it responded, you assumed by what it meant by "Golden nara" was the Traveler, well thank the Archo- I mean thank the Traveler for teaching this Aranara how to bandage a wound.

"Thank you, Aragaru, I'll look forward to our next meeting." You said as you bid him goodbye, Aragaru was waving his tiny little hand. Despite being a fresh wound, the bruise didn't hurt as much, I mean yeah you have to watch where you're going as to not reopen the wound or gey caught, but atleast you can breathe in this wonderful fores-

"GET DOWN, NOW"

Why the fuck now?

You stumbled on your knees, not daring to see who the source of voice was, "It is them," He says, when he spoke you knew it was him, it was Tighnari. You toom a gamble and looked up and lo and behold, the one and only mushroom-eating mammal.

"...Spare them of their life, we won't discuss of their presence in the Avidya Forest,"

What?

"But Mister Tighnari-" "We will NOT discuss of their presence,"

And with that, confusion only littered your mind... First Xiao, now Tighnari? Well for starters, Tighnari was never involved in the hunt in the first place, so maybe he just disliked the idea of it... Still doesn't explain Xiao's reason...

"Okay well uh fuck, I think my wounds are infected," You cursed out loud, "Well, that will make my job easier, no?"

Skirk wears the color green

[ghcstao3]

au where soap teaches swim lessons at a local recreation centre that joseph attends.

normally it’s tommy or beth dropping him off, of course—but there comes a time when they’re both busy, and simon happened to be home from leave, so they ask if he’s alright to be put up to the task. he’d do absolutely anything for joseph, so of course he says yes.

usually, parents of joseph’s age group will just drop off their child and leave for the duration of the lesson. ghost, on the contrary, sticks around because he has nothing better to do, and he can see the excitement in joseph’s face when they get to the centre and his nephew runs off to get ready, so he thinks it worthwhile to stay.

that opinion is only solidified when he sees soap.

when ghost finds a place on the bleachers and glances around to look for joseph, he sees the kid standing in a group surrounding their instructor, and lord. the blinding smile the instructor offers, the red mesh jersey that clings to strong, swimmer’s arms and shoulders—ghost can’t tear his eyes away.

safe to say he isn’t really watching the lesson itself. and with an irritated sort of realization, notices he’s not the only one among relatives to have an eye on the instructor. figures.

the lesson comes to an end and joseph rushes up to ghost just as ghost provides him with his towel, finally glad to have a distraction from the lifeguard. joseph chats animatedly about what he learned and ghost nods along, happy to listen.

until he’s sending his nephew off to go get changed and there’s a sudden tap on his shoulder that has his instincts flare up, and does his best to keep calm as he whirls around—to see, lo and behold, soap.

“you must be joseph’s uncle?”

ghost blinks, wide-eyed and internally panicking. the kid must’ve told soap about him, then.

“i am. why?”

soap just shrugs, that warm smile resting easy on his face. “just wanted to say hi, make sure joseph wasn’t going home with some stranger. he talked quite a bit about you.”

ghost tries to keep an air of calm, but fails miserably. “i don’t see him a lot, with work. that’s all.”

soap hums. “right.” there’s something almost… mischievous about his expression that ghost can’t quite place. “well, i do hope you’ll be back again next week. never seen him so talkative.”

ghost desperately wills the heartbeat in his chest to quit climbing to his throat. he does still have a few more weeks of his leave—it could very well still be a possibility.

he offers a stilted nod, feeling unnaturally nervous so close within soap’s presence. he’s thankful for the medical mask in place to hide most of his furious blush.

“i’ll try,” he manages.

and try and succeed he would—but not without incessant teasing from his brother and sister-in-law when he asks about dropping joseph off again.

(and even more teasing when he does land a date with soap before that same leave ends.)

[wromwood]

Did anybody else’s parents (or at least one of them) teach them the “Wait and see if you want it?” rule?

Basically, when I was a kid and I wanted something in a store that my dad didn’t want to buy me- BUT wasn’t also a high-end super expensive thing like a video game console that I’d undoubtedly want for a long period of time - he would refuse with the possibility of caving in later...  but only if, by the next time we visited the store, I still wanted it.

For example, I’d see a cool limited edition flavor of breakfast cereal that my dad personally thinks sounds disgusting. He’d say, “Let’s not get it today, but if you still want it after a few days, then I’ll pick it up.”

At the time, of course, I’d be grumpy. But lo and behold, next time we visited the store, I’d see that cereal and think, “Oh yeah... I forgot all about it after a few hours. Honestly, I don’t really care about it too much.” Or I’d spot a new limited edition breakfast cereal and try to get THAT one, and if my dad thought it sounded gross, the cycle would begin anew.

Sometimes, though, I WOULD still want a thing, and if it really wasn’t that expensive or a waste if I didn’t finish/use it, my dad would be true to his word, which made the lesson all the more effective. As much as it gave me later purchase indecisiveness (hemming and hawing over if I really NEED something or if I just want it and will be tired of it), I do think it benefited me overall.

For example, recently I visited the Edinburgh zoo and saw these pandas wearing tartan clothing:

which of course I IMMEDIATELY wanted. But I decided to hold back because I’ve got other purchases to make right now, and honestly, how badly do I want it?

... The answer, as it turns out, was “very badly”, as four days later, I bought one online.

Would I have paid almost 5 pounds less if I had gotten it at the gift shop? Yes.

Is the satisfaction that I truly wanted this toy enough worth the additional expense? I sure hope so.

[writingescapades]

Book Lover P

I love how we all came as a community and agreed that Pinocchio is a bookworm. As a fellow bookworm, this worms my heart!

It was Lady Antonia who really introduced P to the library. Well more like she said the entire hotel was his to explore, and explore he did.

His desire for reading really came from a desire to be like his father. Get his approval. The big thumbs up from Papi.

He prefers to read at night, everyone is asleep and he has nothing else to do with this time. At first, he would just go out and continue to destroy puppets, but something changed after that first book.

The first book happened to be The Ugly Duckling. He would read and reread that story. Not fully understanding why he kept doing so.

It was in this state you found him. You promised yourself a night of reading as a reward for doing boring tasks around the hotel. Lo, and behold there was Pinocchio… reading.

He immediately gets up, thinking you had a task for him. Poor boy. You inquire into what he’s reading and he hands it over, as if guilty.

Reading the cover, you smile and give it back, along with another book. It’s a book of fairytales. Needless to say, Pinocchio devours this book. There were more books of this nature??

Thus starts a bond between you two. Late night reading sessions. P eagerly tapping your shoulder when he sees something interesting. You reading aloud passages.

Many times the hotel residents would find you asleep on the floor  while P sat beside you and silently read. Lady Antonia asked him to move a sofa into the library, so that you could at least prevent catching your death of cold.

That scared P, who then always ushered you to the couch once you got your reading material for the night. He wasn’t killing puppets just for you to die of a cold.

As P grows and understands emotions, he would often bring a book to you, point to a passage where a character felt something he felt and then point to himself. It helped when you put words to define his emotions. He would store away that knowledge.

There were moments when P would come home after a late night of stalking, and instead of just spending time in the library, he would wake you up and silently point to a page in a book. He never said anything in those moments but the passage he pointed you told all.

He’s very adept at matching the people he meets (their stories) to the fairytales he reads. It became a bit of an inside joke between you too, such as thinking of red ridding hood when Alidoro appears.

And yes, as you two grow closer and he gains more humanity, he really relishes the closeness reading brings the two of you. Sitting together reading often ends up being wrapped up in blankets, sleeping (resting in his case). And he loves how you never seem to stop analyzing the books you read. Sometimes when he’s bored or needs to get through some chore, he likes having you around to fill the silence.

Loves to rest his head in your lap, around your chest and listen to you read. It’s not just your voice, but the vibrations he feels as he listens. It just makes him feel nice inside. If you fall asleep, he likes to pretend he also fell asleep, just to hold onto the moment longer.

Most of the relationship is you giving him books to read, but every once in a while, he’ll surprise you with a recommendation. It’s not always something he read, but something he thinks you might like.

And yes, any book he finds outside comes straight to you.

Imagine teaching him to write down his thoughts and make his own story! That thought really hits him when he denies his father and the fight happens. It’s the first time he chose his own path.

You can always tell what mood he’s in by what he’s been reading.

The day that made you cry though was several weeks after Geppetto’s death. P was strangely quiet about his father’s secret and subsequent death, and though you pressed him to communicate something to him, you also knew he needed his space. So you took to seeing what he had been reading. But there was only one book, The Little Match Girl. He had been reading the story over and over again, seemingly lost in the young protagonist’s visions. You cried hard that day. How must he feel after being betrayed, insulted, and rejected by his father as both Carlo and Pinocchio?

You hugged him hard that day, and told him that he is not doomed by a fairytale narrative.

You knew you had your Pinocchio back when you hugged your back and you could feel just a few drops of tears on your neck.

[momotonescreaming]

Stardew Valley inspired AU where Steve works some boring corporate job for his father and he's absolutely miserable. His father has high expectations for him that he can't ever seem to meet, his mother just fawns under her husband's harsh gaze, and no one at work likes him because he's the bosses son. Doesn't seem to matter that his father doesn't like him much either.

So when he gets a call from their family lawyer, saying his granddads old farm has left legal hell and is officially his, he's very tempted to drop everything and leave. Get out of the city, escape his family, get a fresh start. The only thing holding him back, is his best friend Robin who also lives in the city. She tells him off for letting her hold him back. She'll miss him horribly, but she knows that he wasn't happy working for his father. He just has to promise to send her postcards and letters and to call her as often as he can. As soon as he’s settled she is going to visit and that is a fact Steve, you better get used to it.

Steve puts in his notice at work, cancels the lease on his apartment, and starts packing his things. He buys a trailer to hitch to the back of his Beamer to pack up all his stuff, has a very tearful goodbye with Robin, and drives to the small town of Hawkins.

He spends most of his time that first month getting everything sorted. Gives the house a deep clean, moves in what he bought of his stuff, and figures out what he still needs to buy. Does a check of everything he needs to repair or replace on the farm. Spends a lot of time clearing rocks and overgrown bushes and weeds and trees off of his land. Reads some books and takes some online classes on farming. Is determined to actually make this work.

Eddie has lived in Hawkins since he moved in with his uncle. Always had dreams of moving to the big city and making it big with his band. But for now he's still in Hawkins, working at Thatcher Tire, living with his uncle, trying not to get sucked into small town gossip. It's hard not to though, not when one of the local high school kids starts a rumour you're a cult leader because you run a DnD club and he thinks his girlfriend is cheating on him. It fucking sucked, but Eddie managed to graduate from high school the third time round, and the rumour mill slowly moved on.

Now, all everyone can talk about is the city boy who moved into the old abandoned farm just down the way. Apparently he's very handsome, very single, and looks like he hasn't worked a day in his life. And sue Eddie, he's fucking curious.

The first time Eddie meets the elusive city boy is at the post office, some months after he moved to town. The guy asks for the time, and politely introduces himself as Steve, the guy who's doing up the old farm. And the Hawkins gossips are right - the guy is handsome as hell. Carefully styled swooping brown hair that looks impossibly soft. Tanned skin dotted with moles. A tidy polo shirt that should look dorky but instead just really suits the guy. Fitting tight across his chest and straining against his biceps. For a supposed city boy, the man is unreasonably ripped. Maybe he is meant to be a farmer.

And then once they meet, it’s like the universe is playing a trick on Eddie because he can’t stop bumping into the guy. He sees him jogging through the city and Steve waves at him with a wiggle of his fingers. He sees him hiking through the woods with his new farm dog in training trotting after him happily. They’re in the supermarket at the same time, and they make small talk about food and Steve jokes that his stove is so old it’s like he has to teach himself how to cook all over again. Eddie goes to Merrill’s farm to drop something off for Wayne, and Steve is there, sleeves rolled up, glistening and sweaty, doing odd jobs on for a little extra cash.

A navy blue truck rolls into Thatcher’s one day, sturdy, big, with a small dent in the side. Good kit. And lo and behold Steve steps out. Clad in his usual blue jeans and a tight polo, twirling his keys around his fingers. He asks if there’s room for them to take a look at it, give it a service, or does he need to book in later? And Eddie says he’s free. There’s a lot of other things he needs to do, cars out the back to check over, but Steve is here. And so Eddie take a look at the truck so he has an excuse to talk to Steve. Asks him questions if there’s anything wrong with it, does he need to check anything in particular? And they chat, and Eddie brings up the beemer. Mentions it off handedly — did Steve swap it out for a truck? Something more farm appropriate?

And Steve just tilts his head like a confused puppy. Eddie know’s he has a beemer? And before he can think about it too much, Eddie says of course he does — it’s not every day that a handsome city boy rolls into a town like this in a fancy car like that. And Steve raises an eyebrow. Handsome? he asks. Eddie curses at himself under his breath. He could have pulled the mechanic card, said he keeps an eye out at all the cars in Hawkins. But of course he lost his tongue in front of the pretty stranger. But Steve just says he’ll take the compliment and smiles at Eddie in a way he hadn’t before.

Before it was small town polite — making conversation at the gas station or a smile of acknowledgement. But this is different. This smile is more. And so Eddie blushes, and rolls himself under the truck to hide his blushing cheeks. He thinks he hears Steve chuckle, bit graciously follows when Eddie steers the conversation away from the face he finds him pretty and onto a safer topic — farm.

And Steve sounds so genuinely excited when he talks about it. He finds the physical work really satisfying, he’s looking forward to getting to the point where he can actually plant crops. Wants to get a chicken coop, see how that goes, before he moves onto livestock. He likes the early mornings on the farm where he can watch the sun rise over the fields. He feels himself there on the farm.

Eddie jokes that the early mornings sound awful, he’s a night owl through and through — but the sunrise sounds nice. Steve laughs and says that's fair, he had to start waking up early in high school for swim team practice and now it’s ingrained into him. Handy for the farm now, which is a plus. Eddie admits that he’s been to the farm before — feels weird not too now — that he hopped the fence when he was teen and wandered the fields and the woods, having a smoke and a poke around. Steve is cool about it. The place was abandoned, and he would have done the same when he was young. He’s not as uptight as he looks — he had some semi-wild teen years of his own.

They talk, Eddie looks at the car, and then before he knows it — he’s done. The truck is all good. Runs like a dream. It’s time for Steve to pay and leave. And they’re both loitering in the doorway to the office, and Eddie knows it’s because he’s actually starting to really like the guy. He’s passionate, and kind, and also kind of a bitch which was delightful to find out. He’s handsome as all hell and is a genuine fucking guy. And he doesn’t want him to leave.

He looks over at Steve. Steve, who bites his lip, pink and plump, before looking up at Eddie through his lashes. And sorry if this sounds dumb, but does Eddie want to come visit the farm? Have a look around when it’s not abandoned and overgrown?

Eddie feels his cheeks flush, sees the identical blush now gracing Steve’s cheeks, and says yes. It’s a date.

[hopefulromances]

my queen is back 😭😭😭😭🤍🤍🤍🤍

just a little thought, a kindergarten teacher that has this girl-next-door/miss honey/sweetest human ever vibe and jamie meets her and is just ✨️lovestruck✨️ and maybe little snippets of how their relationship evolves, sorry if it's a lot 😭😭😭 I had a dream about this

I'm here again! I hope I can do this justice! This is such a sweet prompt!

The first time he saw her, she was carrying a large box of - what looked like - homemade planets. He was coming home from a run as she tried to open the door to her car while juggling the large box in one hand. Trying and failing he should add. Being the gentleman he is, Jamie ran over to assist.

"Here let me help you," he said, taking the box out of her hands.

"Oh, thank god," The woman sighed out, straightening up. Finally, Jamie could see her fully. She was wearing a space themed dress and wearing Saturn earrings. She smiled brightly at him as she opened the door. "That was a real struggle."

Jamie was fucked.

She looked between him and the box before moving to take the box out of his hand. Jamie snapped out of his stupor in time to move out of her way. "Let me... there we go."

He place the box down in the car, dusting his hands off. "That's a new PR for me, lifting the entire solar system."

The woman laughed and Jamie thought he could feel his heart leap out of his chest. He smiled at her, liking the idea that he could make her laugh.

"I'm a kindergarten teacher," She explained, motioning to her whole outfit. "Today is planets."

Jamie's eyes shot down and up, trying to be discrete as possible in his checking out of her body. "Gotcha... solar system, makes sense. Gotta teach them the about the mother serving pasta or something."

The woman laughed again, her hands flying up to cover her face. "I think you mean noodles. Or nachos as some people say."

He felt himself smiling again. The woman was blushing, trying to keep her face hidden behind her hands. He held out a hand for her.

"I'm Jamie."

She took his hand, finally revealing her blush fully to him. "(Y/N). And I know who you are." Jamie's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Fuck, sorry, that sounds weird, my boyfriend... or ex-boyfriend I should say, was a big football fan."

Ex-boyfriend, huh? So, she was single then. "Well I hope you still support."

"I do" she answered quickly. "I definitely do."

She blushed again. God, that was cute. The two stood in silence, smiling at each other for at least another minute before (Y/N) looked down at her watch.

"Oh, shit! I have to go!" She cursed, starting to turn around. She mad a 360, trying to find herself before turning back to face Jamie. "Sorry, I have to go. I'll see you around. Thank you for your help." She grunted as she ran into her side mirror. "Fuck, sorry, I'll uh... I'll see you around."

He waved at her as she got in the car and started to back up. As she did, on the other side of the driveway, Roy stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You stopped your workout to fucking flirt?"

...

The next time he saw her, he was doing a charity event for the local elementary school. Roy had set it up through Phoebe's school to get some of the team to go play with the kids. And lo and behold there she was with her little class.

Today, she was wearing a dress that had a football pitch decoration on it with football earrings to accompany it. She was busy making sure all the kids were in line, ready to meet the footballer that she she didn't notice him come in.

But one of the boys pointed at him and shouted excitedly.

"It's Jamie Tartt! Jamie Tartt!" He cried out standing up. (Y/N) turned and saw him, her blush returning to her cheeks. She covered her cheeks with her hands and turned to calm the boy down.

Jamie smiled and walked over to the lad.

"Hello, there," he greeted crouching down to the boys level. "Have you been a good lad today?"

The boy nodded furiously, suddenly becoming very bashful. He grabbed onto (Y/N)'s dress and hid behind her skirt. She knelt down and whispered in his ear.

"My name's Simon," he stated loudly, holding out his hand.

Jamie shook his hand and smile. "Nice to meet you, Simon. I'm Jamie." The boy giggled pulling hand back to hide his face. "Do you want to play some football with me and my friends."

Jamie nodded over to where Sam and Isaac were standing. Simon nodded again reaching his hands out from Jamie. Jamie took the boy and hoisted him over his head so he sat on his shoulders. "Alright let's go, lads!"

The boys stayed for much longer than they were required to. Play with the children for several rounds of football and several set ups of headers until one boy hit the ball too hard and broke his nose. After that, they finished up by signing whatever the kids handed to them from jerseys to notebooks and even an eraser.

After all the children left, Jamie found his way back to you.

"So, you teach kindergarten," Jamie mused, walking up to you.

"I teach kindergarten," she agreed, turning to look at him. "And you are excellent with children."

"Would you want to get drink tonight?" Jamie's question surprised himself. (Y/N) raised her eyes and surprise and that blush that Jamie loved so much came over her cheeks.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be done in a few minutes, would you wait?"

"Yes I would, definitely."

...

Well the first date went well. And so did the next date and the date after that and soon it'd been a few months and they'd been seeing each other regularly. (Y/N) started going to games and every now and then she's come to school with gifts for the students, which they all loved.

Jamie loved to pick her up from work. She always worked later than she should and Jamie figured out just the perfect time to get her as she was leaving. Today Jamie had picked her up along with some Chinese take out for a relaxing night in. She was sitting on the couch, leaning against him, showing him the papers she was grading as Jamie fed her fried rice.

"Simon still talks about you in all of his writing," She told him, making a mark on the paper.

"Honestly, babe, how you can read that shite is impressive," he commented squinting his eyes at the paper.

"Please, your handwriting is way worse," she teased, marking an 'A' at the top of the page.

Jamie scoffed in faux offense. "My handwriting is not that bad."

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not!" Jamie grabbed her sides, tickling her aggressively . (Y/N) let out a squeal and desperately tried to get away from him but Jamie just grabbed her and pulled her back into him.

"Jamie!" She giggled, her cheeks turning red. "Stopppp!"

"Tell me that my handwriting isn't the same as a kindergarteners," Jamie demanded, never letting up his torment.

"Fine! Your handwriting isn't quite as bad as the kindergartners."

Jamie finally let up, letting (Y/N) catch her back as she fell back into him. As she laid there, head on his shoulder, letting out a chuckle as she caught her breath, Jamie felt something shift inside him.

"Hey... I love you."

Her eyes widened and she turned to look up at him. "Really?"

He nodded, his own cheeks turning red under her gaze. She shifted, turning around and resting her hands on his chest. She leaned down and kissed him softly. Jamie made a noise of appreciation as she did, his hand coming up to rest on her neck.

"I love you too, sweet boy."

And that is how Jamie fell in love with a kindergarten teacher.

[princessbrunette]

i know if reader stayed out too late rafe would be so pissed he already doesnt trust your friends and your dress was too short and he’d been calling and texting you to make sure you were in by 12 but unfortunately for you you were too drunk to notice and he ended up having to pick you up :( and you know your poor pussy is in for it

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

i think rafe would try and be a good ‘authoritarian’ for you and punish you at first by not touching you. truly, he wasn’t even in the mood to do so— just pissed off and insecure, wondering what sort of punishment to enforce.

he gets home, tosses his keys on the table and starts to head upstairs running a hand over his chin and maybe it was the alcohol, and maybe it was his nonchalance but suddenly you needed him, and you didn’t care if you made a fool out of yourself in the process.

he heads into the shower, tired and irritated — hoping to wash off some of that bad mood before he heads to bed, but lo and behold, not even five minutes later he’s hearing the door open— the blurry figure through the shower door of you undressing before you eventually slide the door open, joining him.

you hug him from behind, pressing your now slippery tits against his back, your nails dragging over his toned stomach nearing his cock. he finishes rinsing his hair before his hands fall on top of yours and yank you off him. “not playing with you— wash up n’get out. maybe think about your actions whilst you’re at it.” he snaps and you whine, shifting on your feet making your hard nipples graze his back once more. you reach around again, touching his upper thighs. his dick was starting to harden and that only pissed him off more.

“rafe, c’mon… didn’t mean to… i need you—”

he spins around, then turning you around promptly so your cheek was pressed to the steamy shower door, arms pinned at your lower back.

“you need me? huh? what about my needs? wh—what about me breaking my back running ‘round after you? hm?” he slaps your ass hard and you cry out, involuntarily pushing it back into his cock.

“m’sorry!” you cry out but he’s already huffing out a malicious laugh, jerking himself a few times before lining up with your entrance and pushing in quickly, not giving you time to adjust.

“i’ll give you what you fuckin’ need— stay still.” he jostles you, holding you firmly as he rams into you, setting a harsh and punishing pace.

“ow rafey!” you mewl and he only slaps your ass again.

“ow rafe— yeah no shit, s’meant to hurt. someone’s gotta fuckin’ teach you not to push a man, right?”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

[jokenotfunny]

Orphic - Prologue

1.8k words

The Twins Are Born

10,173 , EVERALD PALACE ,

A Thunderous Evening

It was nearing midnight on Agarre-Venuse. The townspeople and villagers all across the planet were readying for the next day. Whether they had crops to plant and grow, families to take care of or businesses to run.

However in Castle Everald...

Midwives and handmaidens scurried around the corridors in stress and worry, preparing towels and food for the queen.

"Grandmother, do you think she'll be alright?" Jerrica, the eldest daughter of the Lavenza-Venuse bloodline, asked worriedly, as she paced around the corridors before the castle's birthing room. The same room where the Queen, Elizabetha could be heard groaning and complaining.

"Stop your prancing. Your mother is Bene Gesserit, she's been through much worse pain than this." The Reverend Mother Gaius, said calmly to the 9 year old in front of her.

"Besides she's already had four of you." She says mentally. sharply eyeing the other three children surrounding her.

"Yes, but it's twins, surely that must be painful." Jerrica replies, grimacing as if she'd heard the woman's thoughts, before taking the seat next to her grandmother.

Before the reverend mother could respond however, the sound of something falling to the ground followed by a mischievous giggle, jostled their silent conversation.

"Mother's giving birth and you two decide that now is the best time to fool around." Jerrica snaps at the two roughousing boys, Izaac and Xyon messing around with wooden swords.

"Father gave us these swords for a reason!" Izaac snapped back, glaring at his older sister, while Xyon shrunk away from the impending argument with an apology towards his big sister, deciding to sit next to the slumbering youngest child, Cherise.

"There's a time and place for everything, and now isn't it!" Jerrica glared.

"Well you aren't the boss of me and you'll never be so now what!" Izaac pushed, lunging for his sister.

"Here we go." Xyon whispered, rolling his eyes.

Before the Reverend Mother could interfere in the childish fighting, Jerrica interjected in a way she didn't expect.

"Get off of me, you little cretin!" She demanded, using the voice on her younger brother.

"A formidable child, indeed." The Reverend Mother thought, watching the girl. While The queen of Agarre-Venuse may have done everything against the Bene Gesserit order, she still proves to be one of her most famed students if she was able to have her 9-year-old daughter be completely capable of using the voice effectively.

She couldn't help but wonder what else the little girl could be capable of under her own teachings. But that's be a matter to discuss at a later date.

"You're such a coward!" Izaac growled at the girl. "You can't use the voice for everything, why don't you actually fight me, if you're so brave."

And then there's Izaac. A very bold and brave young man. Braver than most 7 year olds would be at least. He'd been initiated into CHOAM's Mentat program only a week prior, having passed all of his tests. However, he'd not yet been sent to the Order House due to the impending birth of his new siblings, and his demand to meet them.

Before the two young Lavenza-Venuse children could begin fighting, the sound of childish screaming that only a newborn could create, bled out into the hallway where they occupied. And lo and behold, out ran their father, Dracule, with an excited expression on his face.

"They're here! they've been born!" He exclaimed excitedly. "Come meet them children."

At this point all the tensions had left the dimly lit hall, and they had turned their attention to their mother and two new sisters, excitedly. Young Xyon becoming more excited at the sight of his aunt Margot in the corner as well, before scurrying over to her.

In the birthing room, their mother lied in the bed holding one, and cooing at her while the girl shrieked and cried, while Dracule stood holding the other, smiling brightly at her as she simply stared at him silently.

"What's their names?" The four-year-old Cherise asked trying to rub the sleep from her eyes, as she sidled up beside her mother.

"Well this is Chevre." She whispered quietly, showing her children, the now calm baby that she was holding.

"And this is Y/N" Dracule said, letting his other children get a good look at her.

"And you can meet them properly in the morning but now it's time for bed." The Reverend Mother who had been watching from the corner of the room, stated. She and Elizabeth's "sister" Margot, who'd also assisted in the birthing, had been silently watching the family interact and it never failed to surprise her, how much they all love and cared for each other.

"But Grandmo-" The various complaints came flooding throughout the room.

"She's right." Dracule said, surprising the Older woman. "You kids can meet them properly in the morning but for now you all need to rest." He said, leaving no room for questioning.

"I'll be right behind you, now go." He said softly to the children as they all exited the room grumbling, except for Cherise, who lingered in the doorway waiting to be carried back to her room by her father.

He walked over to the hardened woman, gently gesturing for her to take his newborn, which she did reluctantly.

"I've come to be able to tell when you're ready to use the voice and I'd appreciate it if you didn't use it on my children if unneccesary." He whispered playfully to her, before walking over and kissing his wife on the forehead before gathering Cherise in his arms and leaving the room.

"You've done adequately, once again." The Reverend Mother looked at the child in her arms, now sleeping.

"Most people would say 'Congratulations' mother." Your mother, softly joked rocking the baby in her hands and cooing to her, in an attempt to once again calm her.

"She must want to be with her sister" Margot, smiled.

"I don't believe this one shares the same sentiment." The Reverend Mother, monotonously joked.

In the mere minutes since birthed, the second Chevre was separated from you she began sniffling with the occasional outraged cry leaving her tiny lips. However, as you'd been passed from your mother, to your father, to your grandmother, you'd yet to make a sound other than the occasional cooing. Before anything else could be said between the two Bene Gesserit witches, two midwives came in to retrieve the both of you to be cleaned and clothed.

Once they left the room, Elizabeth sat up slightly becoming more serious as she regarded her mother.

"You wish to speak to me about something, what is it?" She sighed.

"Your oldest possesses The Voice. I wasn't aware." She said, making your mother groan in annoyance, throwing her hands up exasperatedly, as Margot just raised her eyebrows in "faux" surprise at the "new information".

"And you weren't supposed to be. Exactly how did you find this out?" She said, crossing her arms.

"Because she just utilized it against Izaac in the hall."

"Oh that, girl!" She frustratedly sighed. "I tell her to not be so reckless." She pondered, dreading the punishment she'd have to give the girl for that in the near future. 'Perhaps an extra hour of schooling down in Romaniq Village's primary school.' She thought to herself.

"You're missing my point Elizabeth." She sighed, still not completely used to the... Quirkiness of her adopted daughter. "How were you able to conduct such training?"

"The same way you did with me." She said simply, smiling softly as her personal handmaiden entered the room, bringing Elizabeth her robes and helping her from the birthing bed, leading her to her chair in the corner of the room next to Margot, so that she could strip and change the sheets.

"Please get to your point mother, I know you aren't bothered by me teaching my children the way of the Bene Gesserit." Your mother rolled her eyes,

"Quite the contrary, child." She turned to face the women, with a look on her face that even Elizabeth could shudder at. Hell, any girl that grew up under the watchful eye of The Reverend Mother, Helena Gaius Mohaim would be scared to see a smile, of all things, on her face.

"The Gom Jabbar will be brought for Jerrica come next month." She stated.

"Absolutely not!" Your mother said with a finality that had her handmaiden freezing in her steps, hints of The Voice peeking out of the outburst.

"Reverend Mother.." Margot said warily, taking the hand of her sister to calm her.

"How dare you suggest such a thing against my child?" Elizabeth's voice began to grow in volume, ignoring the soothing touch of Margot's hand caressing her arm.

"Not just her. I'll be returning to do the same for Cherise, Chevre, and Y/N when they reach that age as well.

"Do you wish to kill my children?" She said with a tone that she's never taken against her mother before. Only those whose lives she's claimed back in her assassin days had ever heard such venom come from the woman's lips.

"You don't believe they'll pass?"

"My children are already not human to begin with, and you know this."

"It's not necessarily to see if they're human-"

"But to see if their awareness is stronger than their instincts." Margot finished, looking down, as Elizabeth glared at her loosening her hand from hers.

"You're siding with her on this?" Elizabeth asked incredulously.

"I.. I don't believe it's a matter of sides, Elizabeth.' She began cautiously. "But perhaps this will play a role into them becoming truly powerful beings.

"They will be powerful, because I am their mother." She breathed out calmly but sternly before releasing Margot's hand and folding them on her lap.

"I wish for both of you to depart from my home and this planet. While you may bring your Gom Jabbar, it will be on Jerrica's terms. Until then, I have no desire to see either of you.

After a tense, silent moment of glaring between Elizabeth and the Reverend Mother, the latter scoffed, straightening her back.

"As you wish, daughter." she said, her tone betraying no hint of emotion. With a look to Margot, she turned and swept out of the room, her robes traipsing behind her like the remnants of a passing storm.

However Margot hesitated, standing up but not leaving the room. Out of all of the sisters, Margot was the closest to Elizabeth, seeing her as her real sister and to leave her like this could mean the end to their close relationship.

"Elizabeth, please. I don't wish to leave you like thi-"

"Get out!" The woman commanded, her voice resonating throughout the room with the power of The Voice, compelling Margot to straighten up and leave the room without another word.

As her handmaiden closed the door behind them, Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping with not only the exhaustion of having just birthed twins, but also her decision. She knew that some way and somehow her actions would have consequences, both within her family and perhaps even the Bene Gesserit. But in that moment, she was unwavering in her resolve to protect her children, no matter the cost.

_________________________________________

taglist :

@cauliflowercounty @avidreader73

[hoe4sports]

In the enemy’s locker

Katie Mccabe ft Leah williamson x reader

A/N: Consensual mild waterboarding. Can be read as a sequel to “Baller”.

You were tiptoeing after Jonas, the coach of your new club. He invited you to come an hour early to practice so you could see the facility and get everything from keycard to athletic wear sorted. “This is where the physical therapist is, if you have issues or concerns, especially regarding your acl; see him immediately.” He knocked on the door, and a few seconds later the door swung open. “Welcome to Arsenal!” The therapist yelled as he dragged you into a hug. “I’ll take it from here Jonas, I’ll bring her in before orientation.” He cheered as he dragged you along into the room. You werent too sure about what you were doing, but you would bet on a lecture about your acl and how to keep it activated. He signaled for you to hop up on the bench, and being a professional athlete that was common curtesy.

“Right or left acl?”

He did tests on both your feet to check out the resistance. “It’s my- OW” you yelled as he flexed the right achillies . A sense of embarrassment quickly spread across Your body, and you looked at him with an apologetic look. You hadn’t really taken well care of the achillies since you tore it. It was always a bit sore, so you figured that the soreness was the new normal. “I got just the solution for you!” he sang as he disappeared around the corner. For a hot second, he reminded you of the Harry Potter scene where he gets his wand from the old guy. You fully expected him to come back with some sort of rehab device or a program for you to do before bedtime. However, he arrived with a box. He opened the box towards him and pieces of silk paper instantly got thrown to the floor. “I hope these are alright, we don’t have many color options! I can order in a specific color if you want. There is also options of adding your name or number on it. I already have all your sizes and measurements, so that wouldn’t be no issue.” he sang as he pulled up a pair of cleats.

“This is the new aeroluna 5, made for post tear women!” You werent really on board as you had tried endless things from before and landed on the Nike mercurials . He practically smacked the shoes on your feet, and lo and behold. They fit like a glove. They were comfortable and so supportive. You swore, you could’ve almost cried. The shoes however, were hot pink which you honestly didn’t mind. You looked up at your new born saviour with tears in your eyes. “Hot pink it is” you said as you adored my new cleats. You thanked the weird; but kind man and walked to the team warderobe.

“Ah, ladies, this is our new striker! Y/N! Now, please be kind to her and teach her the Arsenal way of caring for each others.” Jonas said as he patted me on the back. “Ex-girlfriend, finally! We meet at last.” Leah yelled out causing everyone to laugh including you and Jonas. She even did a clap and a little dance. “Your cubby will be next to Leah’s so go ahead and take a seat” the swede said as Leah patted next to her spot on the bench. You felt rather flabbergasted by seeing your face mid strike glued to the wall. It was blown up, and you were stuck with feeling some secondhand embarrassment. You popped down by Leah, and carefully listened as Jonas went on about his hopes for this new season. Leah lifted your right leg over her thigh just like the old days. When your acl would kill you every practice, it was the only sense of relief you got. You looked around the room, all the girls seemed so nice. You recognised quite a few of them, as you played them last season and they were good with their defence. A very well organised defence. Jonas was chatting away about his weekend, and you bent down to retie your shoes. Your need for the shoes to be tied equally tight was one of your peeves from your childhood. “And then, we need to work on our abil-“ he started as he was cut off by the door swinging open.

“I’m so so sorry for being late, my cat broke down and my car ran awa-“ the woman chaotically stated before cutting herself off. Her voice was awfully familiar, but you couldn’t seem to place it. You smiled as you curiously leaned forward before your face froze. You stared, she stared, Leah stared and everyone stared. Everyone went silent, including Jonas. “Oh this is season is about to be real good” Leah mumbled nudging you.Jonas was just as invested in this drama as everyone else remember your last meeting on the field.

“Katie McCabe” You said. “You” she said back. She walked towards you and for a second you were concerned that she was gonna knock you out. “Scared, McCabe?” you asked as she was nearing you. “No asshole, you are sitting next to my cubby.” she said with an annoyed tone in her voice. “Better sleep with one eye open because next time, it’s not my ankles that are getting cut off” You whispered as she sat down beside you, but as far as she could without causing attention.

As Jonas finished up talking, the girls started changing into their workout gear for the field. Everyone was wearing the same t-skirt except for Katie. She had pulled her sleeves up so she could show off her bronzed toned arms. “Trying compensate for your terrible tackles?” You said as you nudged her. You mean, it was hot. She was hot when she wasn’t trying to chop your ankles off, but you werent letting her in on that information. Katie turned around and looked at Leah. “How’d ya know her?” she asked with her Irish accent. “Ex-girlfriend and long term one night stand” she spat out as you felt slightly embarrassed. Leah was very fit, so it honestly didn’t bother you too much as she clearly was not ashamed of admitting that you for the last year had slept together at least once a week.

You went out on the field and did drills. Jonas was really testing the group, making sure that the girls hadn’t skipped their programs during the off season. After 2,5 hours, you were all fried and while you were drinking; Leah squirted her waterbottle at you making your white top and white sports bra see-through.”Leah!!” You yelled as you got up while removing the cap on your bottle as you attacked her and forced her to the ground while you sat on her. You held the bottle above her head and slowly poured everything out on her head. Katie looked at you annoyed, “For fucks sake, stop flirting” You looked at her with confidence while my nipples were showing through my top. “Jealous of you not getting these?” You teased as she just stared. “Or perhaps you are intimidated by my ability to uno reverse your tackles?” followed by a wink. “Fuck you, Y/N” she yelled as she walked away. It was safe to say, that she was not gonna get to pick on you for the next 5 years.

[lunaflowers]

caught looking

pairing: ok taecyeon x reader word count: 3.3k genre: smut, pwp basically warnings: dom!taecyeon but he's sweet, sub!reader, unprotected piv, ass smacking, taec has a huge cock, a bit of sir kink, oral sex (female receiving) synopsis: when your hot neighbour ok taecyeon catches you staring at him during a morning jog, he decides he needs to teach you a lesson

You had a massive crush on him. Ok Taecyeon, your neighbour, was almost stupidly perfect. He was tall, handsome, had abs of steel and a killer smile. Every time you ran into him, you became a sputtering, awkward mess of a woman. He would smile at you sweetly and try to make small talk and you would stutter something completely nonsensical back to him. He probably thought you had some sort of trouble with verbal comprehension.

This Sunday morning, you got up a little earlier than you actually had to. You did this every morning just to see your aforementioned neighbour running down the block, shirtless and sweating. It was your little morning ritual, your little pick-me-up at the beginning of the day. You sat on your balcony in an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants, your legs were crossed and you were holding a mug of tea in your lap. You sipped it and right on time, Taecyeon rounded the corner, jogging at a decent pace. His body was drenched in sweat and you could see his abs glisten from your vantage point on the balcony. You giggled to yourself, enjoying the very attractive sight before your eyes when he suddenly turned his head and looked right up at you.

You froze for a second before dropping off your chair and onto the ground, spilling the tea right beside you. What the fuck had you done that for? The balcony was barred so he could still see you. You must have looked like such an idiot. You glanced over and saw that he’d come to a full stop, watching you while panting slightly, a smirk on his devastatingly handsome face.

Hurriedly, you crawled back into your apartment and slid the door to the balcony shut with force. 

“You fucking idiot,” you said out loud to yourself, your body hot with embarrassment, your head buried in your arms on the floor of your bedroom. How the fuck were you going to face him now? You were never going to be able to leave your apartment again for fear of running into him. You’d have to move away in the dead of night so you could retain the tiny shred of dignity that you were barely holding on to at this moment.

As you planned how you were going to reroute your entire life to avoid ever having to interact with Ok Taecyeon again, you heard a knock at your door. Who could that be? You weren’t expecting anyone this early in the morning. And you weren’t exactly in the mood to talk to anyone right now as you were mortified beyond anything you’d felt in a long time. 

They knocked again, a little louder this time and you knew that you couldn’t ignore it any longer. You stood up and walked out of your bedroom and to your front entrance. You put your eye to the peephole and lo and behold, there stood Taecyeon in all his shirtless glory.

No! You thought, as you slid down the door, almost as though you felt like Taecyeon could see in the way you saw out. Why the fuck was he here? Why would he do this? The thoughts were spinning in your head as he knocked a third time.

“Y/N? You know I know you’re in there. Open up,” his voice came from the other side of the door.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck was all you could think as you slowly stood up, unlatched and unlocked your door. You opened it and as soon as you did, you tried to close it again but Taecyeon stuck his foot in the doorway, preventing you from doing so.

“Can I come in?” He asked. Without waiting for a reply, he walked right past you and into your apartment, shutting the door behind him. You thought for a second that you ought to be afraid. This man who you didn’t know very well had just basically invited himself into your apartment. But for some reason, you knew you were safe.

He was still shirtless as he walked past you and into your living room, giving it a quick look around before saying, “Nice place you got here.”

You smiled awkwardly. “It’s the same as yours,” you shrugged.

He smirked, seemingly knowing the effect he had on you and wanting to revel in it. “So.”

“So?” You asked. “So what?”

“You tell me,” he said, sitting down on your leather couch, manspreading his legs. It would’ve annoyed you had any other man done it, but with him it only made you feel a heat within your core that you were desperate to squash down.

“Do you want something?” You asked him, desperate to be over with whatever this interaction was going to be.

“Do you?” He leaned forward. He was still smirking and you had the sudden urge to smack that smirk right off his face. Who did he think he was barging in here like this and wasting your time?

“Look, just say whatever you’re going to say. I’m busy and I have a lot of things to do today and-”

“I know you watch me,” he said.

You breathed through your nose, trying to keep your voice steady instead of melting into a mess on the ground. “What? I was drinking tea on my balcony like I do eve-”

“No,” he interrupted you, with an edge to the word, “I know you watch me. Every single morning you sit on your balcony specifically to watch me run past and ogle me like a piece of meat.”

Jesus. He knew? Had he known this whole time? Here you thought you were being so stealth but he was on to you. How could you have been so obvious? You just didn’t think a specimen like him would ever have paid attention enough to notice what you were doing.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, the shame you felt engulfing your entire body. “It was inappropriate. I didn’t mean to.”

“Why are you apologising? I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

You looked up at him in surprise. He was still sitting down in front of you on the couch, and you didn’t really know how to react to his words. 

“I just think you should be a little more tactful next time,” he continued, nonplussed. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare at people?”

He seemed to be playing with you and he was enjoying it. He liked putting you on edge and then bringing you back again, only to do it over. You wanted to call him out, tell him that you knew what he was doing but the words died in your throat as he got up from the couch and walked over to you and stood towering over you. You backed up until your back was at the wall and he followed, putting his arms out on the wall on either side of you, trapping you. You looked up at his tall figure, meeting his dark eyes that seemed to have a mischievous glint in them.

“Maybe you need to teach me some manners,” you said, surprising you both. Taecyeon looked at you like he wanted to devour you on the spot.

“Yeah, maybe I fucking do,” he said, his voice hard. He sounded intimidating and you could feel the effect of it making you wet between your legs. As though he could sense this, he moved his hand down and pressed two fingers to your cunt, over your sweatpants. “Do you touch this? When you think of me? Hmm?”

“S-sometimes,” you stuttered out, shifting against the drywall. You figured honesty was the best policy and as nervous as you were, you were also really fucking thrilled.

“I bet.” He smiled and removed his hand from between your legs, taking a few steps back. He gave you a once over. “Take your clothes off.”

You must’ve hesitated for a second too long because Taecyeon reached forward and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. “When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it without hesitation. Understood?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead unzipping your hoodie and tossing it on the ground himself. You weren’t wearing a bra and he took a look at your breasts before grabbing both of them in his large hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about getting my hands on these tits ever since I saw you wearing that low cut pink sundress weeks ago.”

You were surprised at his words. The fact that he had noticed you at all stunned you, but the fact that he thought about you like that even more so. You remembered wearing that pink sundress.. It was during a date that was so boring you barely remembered it. You knew you had looked cute as fuck and you were glad someone appreciated it, even if you hadn’t realised it at the time.

“Oh, then have you been watching me too?” You asked, your eyes the picture of innocence.

Taecyeon squeezed your breasts even harder and you let out a yelp. “Don’t get clever, sweetheart.” All of a sudden he leaned down and kissed you roughly, picking you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist. He walked to your bedroom and threw you down on the bed. In one swift motion, he pulled off your sweatpants and underwear, tossing them to the side. He pulled your legs apart and got between them like he was on a mission.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” Taecyeon asked. “I can tell.”

“Maybe,” you replied, trying to play coy.

“Maybe? Your pussy is already drenched. Is it that easy? You just need to be roughed up a little, hmm?” He gave your pussy a smack and you yelped again, the sting bringing tears to your eyes.

“Please Taecyeon, please…” You tried to close your thighs but he wouldn’t let you. 

“Please what? You want me to stop? I’ll leave right now if that’s what you want,” he said as he drew circles around your pussy with his fingers, tracing the wetness around it. You squirmed as he did this, feeling ticklish but also so badly wanting him inside you.

“No…” you moaned out, “Please…” Please fuck me is what you wanted to say but the words kept getting caught in your throat. You don’t know why you felt embarrassed to be so wanton, but you did. 

“You should be clear about what you want, Y/N,” Taecyeon chided, seemingly enjoying your hesitance. He was enjoying the effect he was having on you. Fucker.

“Please… Will you fuck me?”

“I don’t know… Do you think you can take it?” He stuck a finger inside of you, and then one more. “This pussy seems so tight, I can barely get two fingers in… I probably won’t be able to fit. I doubt you’ve had any man as big as me before.”

He was a cocky fucker but the bulge of the erection in his sweatpants indicated that he wasn’t lying. You hadn’t even seen his cock yet but you could tell it was at least bigger than average.

“I want you. Taec, please fuck me. I’ll take your huge cock. I don’t care if it hurts.” you said, coming off more desperate than you’d intended to, but you were desperate. All you wanted in the world right now was for this man on top of you, the man you had been fantasizing about for months, to fuck you senseless. 

Taecyeon seemed to like the sound of that. He stood up and pulled his sweatpants off and for the first time you saw him in all his naked glory. He looked like he was carved out of marble. His body was intimidatingly perfect and yes, his cock was huge. It was probably the biggest you’d seen outside of porn. Both long and thick, it seemed to get bigger the more you looked at it.

“It’s okay. I’ll take it slow,” Taecyeon said, seemingly understanding the look of both awe mixed with worry on your face. “I’ll get you ready for me.” With that he knelt down, his face near the edge of the bed, and pulled you towards him with both your legs. Your dripping cunt was in his face now and he stared at it like he was about to devour it. 

You couldn’t help yourself, your inner brat coming out. “So what are you waiting for? Get to it then.”

Taecyeon responded to this by smacking the side of your ass, hard. “Try that again, you little slut. I’m being nice right now for your sake. Trust me you won’t like it when I’m being mean. Got it?”

The authority in his words made you shut up immediately. It also made you even wetter if that was possible. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” you said, biting back a smile. You liked getting him riled up like that but you were also careful not to push him too far. “I just want you so bad I couldn’t help myself.”

He stuck two fingers in your cunt again, gently moving them in and out of you. “Let’s get one thing clear, okay, Y/N? I fucking own you right now. You do as I say and respect me or I’m going to paddle your ass with a spatula and leave you here dripping wet and empty.” He smacked the side of your ass one more time.

“Sorry, sir,” you said again. “I’ll be a good girl for you.”

He didn’t respond, just giving you an amused look and then lowering his head to give your clit a deep lick. You shuddered at the sensation, opening yourself up to him more. He kept his fingers deep inside of you, massaging your walls gently as he tongued your clit, sending little shocks of pleasure throughout your body.

“Oh… God, that feels really good,” you moaned out, writhing as you clutched the bedsheets. At this, he latched his mouth onto your pussy and began to suck on your clit lightly, causing the sensations to surge through you. “More please…”

Taecyeon added a third finger into your cunt and sped himself up a little, moving in and out of you faster while he also kept up on your clit, licking and sucking it in turn. You had never had a man so voraciously give you head before, he was literally moaning into your pussy as he was tasting you. You didn’t know that men like this even existed.

You were almost there, reaching closer and closer to your peak. Taecyeon was hitting all the right spots and you knew if he kept at you’d be cumming in just a few-

“Hey!” You exclaimed as he suddenly stopped everything he was doing. “Taec… I was sooo close!” You felt like you were going to cry. You reached down to finish yourself off but Taecyeon smacked your hand away. He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them down on either side of you.

“I told you I’d get you ready for my cock and I have. You don’t get to cum on my tongue today. You haven’t earned that yet,” he said, getting up on the bed.

Today? You thought, as you watched him stroke his intimidatingly large cock. Does that mean he thought the two of you would be doing this again? Before you could contemplate this further, he was on top of you, with his tip pressed into your wet folds. Even though he had worked to open you up, you knew this was still going to be a stretch.

“Are you ready?” Taecyeon asked, his concern endearing him to you. You knew he truly didn’t want to hurt you.

You nodded and breathed deep. He began to push in slowly, kissing you on your neck and shoulders as he did. You gasped as you felt him filling you up.

“You’re such a good girl,” he cooed between kisses, “You’re taking me so well.” He kept pushing into you as he said this, moving further inside you inch by inch. The sting between your legs brought tears to your eyes but you didn’t stop him. You wanted this more than anything in the world right now. “Does it hurt, sweetheart?” Taecyeon asked, with concern on his face.

“A little,” you admitted. “I’m okay though. Just… start moving slow,” you replied. 

“Of course,” he said, placing another soft kiss on your shoulder. As dominant as he was being, he was also sweet and respectful and gentle when he needed to be and you appreciated it so much. 

Taecyeon began to move inside of you slowly, letting you get accustomed to his girth. The stretch was still uncomfortable but not as uncomfortable as it was initially. You breathed deep, trying to relax so you could take him better.

“You pussy feels so fucking good, sweetheart,” Taecyeon breathed after a few minutes. “Do you think you could handle it if I went a little faster?”

“Mm-hmm,” you replied, readying yourself for him. 

“Such a good girl,” Taecyeon said again. “You love getting this slutty pussy filled by me, don’t you?” Taecyeon quickened his place slightly, making you gasp.

“Yes… I love it,” you moaned out the words. Taecyeon’s cock was hitting pleasure spots that you didn’t know you had. “F-feels so good.”

“I know. I bet you’ve never been filled like this before, have you, you little whore?” Taecyeon grabbed your breast with one hand, squeezing the nipple between his fingers. You let out a pained squeal and he did it again, harder.

“Ahhhh… no, Taec… you’re the biggest I’ve ever had.”

“And the best,” he said, fucking into you. It was a statement, not a question. 

“Yes, and the best… God, yes,” your body felt completely taken over by him. He was controlling the rhythm, the pace, and your pleasure. Your skin felt hot and sensitive. He was pounding into you even faster now and there was no way you were going to last much longer.

“You look so fucking good right now, all fucked out on my cock,” Taecyeon said breathlessly. “It makes me want to mark you up. Spank you, bite you, make you mine.”

“I am yours,” you replied, not really meaning it in any real sense. You were just saying what you thought he wanted to hear, you’d say anything to make sure that he kept fucking you like this. His length pounding at your wet cunt, stretched out beyond it had ever been before, it just felt so damn good.

Taecyeon chuckled. “You aren’t yet, but you will be.”

You couldn’t even react to his words, he kissed you on the mouth and in that moment you felt like you were going to melt beneath him. 

“I- I’m close,” you told him, looking up at him with a knitted brow. “So close.”

“So am I,” he said, continuing his pace. “Can I come inside of you? Please?”

You were on birth control so you nodded and he quickened his pace, thrusting into you faster than before. You were moaning as he breathed heavily. Your thighs began to shake.

“I’m gonna cum…” you said, only a few seconds before you did. The orgasm wracked your body, making your toes curl. You grabbed his back, digging your nails into it so that would probably sting. He watched you lose yourself on his cock and came inside of you with a grunt, filling you up with his seed.

He collapsed beside you and the both of you were breathing heavily, coming down from your respective highs. You both looked at each other and he smiled while you covered your face with your hands.

“Stop that,” Taecyeon said, moving your hands away from your face. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to do that?”

“Probably not as long as I have.”

He laughed. “I doubt it. I don’t wanna sound like a creep, but I’ve been eyeing you since you moved in. I guess I just hid it better than you did.”

Your cheeks flushed hot in embarrassment. “Hey! I wasn’t that obvious,” you protested, huffily. 

“You were, but it’s okay,” he said, pulling you in and placing a kiss on your forehead. “After all, if you weren’t I wouldn’t have shown up at your door today. Now how about round 2?”

[sinful-lanterns]

STARGAZERRR, who knew she was that big 😭 I can imagine her brat taming while having a cocky smirk on her face while shoving her cock inside you to ‘teach you a lesson’. Her voice too would be so hot…

Tbh, ever since I saw Stargazer I was like “oh yeah, I know that pussy is fat/her dick is big” and lo and behold, flash forward to the future and she’s one of the big dick girls on the tier list 😣

That cock of hers is capable of shutting up brats for sure. She’s always so smug once she pulls down her pants, revealing the not-so-little monster she’s been hiding before shoving it down your mouth and making you suck her off. Her brats never seem to mind it though, the sheer length, girth, and overall size is just so mind-numbingly good that the brats never really remember what they were mouthing off about in the first place <3

Bonus: I bet Stargazer calls her cock “her little monster” but it is anything BUT little.

[poetryinsilence]

A Wish for Eternity

Astarion x gn!magical!tav

A/n: am I madly in love with this elf? Yes. Do I wish to bring him everything he hoped and dreamed of? Also, yes. Hence, here I am, thinking about what happens after the epilogue, did he search for a way? If you play as a sorcerer or wizard, once you are at a higher level (not in the game), there is a certain spell that could achieve your hopes and dreams. So, what if…? Anyway, happy fluffy valentine's day!

Synopsis: a long journey of travelling through every corner of Faerûn for what seems to be an eternity. Luck sure isn’t on your side in your quest to find a mythical item, a cloak. Rumoured to be special, you are determined to find it, with your nightwalking partner, Astarion. But, fate has other things on its mind.

Word: 2,344

6 months after you reunited heartfelt celebrations with inebriated companions; the night never seems to cease with boundless alcohols and dancing to lively tunes until your feet refuse to leave the ground. Through thick and thin, nonetheless, such an adventure weaved you all together at the stake of Baldur’s gate.

At the right place, at the right time.

In a blink of an eye, another 6 months had gone by. On your quest, you trek through the marsh terrain on your journey and strangle a few swamp things; scorched and burned under the dry heat of the sun and almost meet your fatal death by getting swallowed up inside a giant sandworm; and almost, almost, stepped into the fey realm by no fault of your own. Suppose it wasn’t for a certain trickster. A very lovable trickster, mind you.

The relentless quest to acquire an article of clothing—a rare magical item; enchanted with each woven of threads. A cloak, to be exact, that was once said to have been created by drows of the Underdark. To allow one that’s weak in sunlight to walk freely under the blistering sun.

You first heard about this mystic item from none other than Gale. The wizard was lost in his recent reverie of taking upon the role of teaching, to no surprise. One night, while holed up in his tower, flicking through weathered pages of tomes, when he came across the wonders of this cloak. Intrigued, as he may be, wanting to study the magic behind this unique fabric. After all, a little more knowledge wouldn’t hurt.

But, it seems others require it more than him. Lo and behold, he appears when you think your luck has run out. Seems like Tymora has finally blessed you with a pat on the back, who would say no to divine intervention?

Although this is a solution to your current situation, it all just seems too good to be true. A flimsy piece of garment is your answer? You could swipe a black cloak from the market and enchant it yourself. Though you are well-versed in magic, enchanting items aren’t really your forte. Nor are you of drow descent to know such ways of crafting.

You had your doubts about this cloak, however, you do not doubt the reliability of Gale. If he said such a thing exists, then it must be credible.

Month after month of tracking your journey—based on one rumour that gossamer across Faerûn. With every possible lead, you travelled across the continent of the cityscape to the underworld. This endless journey may be gruesome, but you didn’t do it alone. Your lover, Astarion, walks amongst your shadow. By day, you are his shield protecting him under the blazing sun. At night, he swore as your sword to cut through the lurking dangers of the dark.

The Sun and its Moon.

He is the reason why you’re on this journey in the first place. To bring him the sunlight once more, to breathe in the life of the Pelor over the vast lands that were taken from him when he was still young. But the chances of finding this cloak are getting slimmer by day—like water slipping through the cracks of your hand. 

Astarion’s hope is getting dimmer, too. You tried to reassure him that you were certain the both of you were getting close; maybe you were just not looking at the right places.

Of course, he brushes you off with a smile and jokes that he’s not that interested in it because ‘cloaks cramp his style’. He persuades you not to mind it so much. Or, hoping you’d be the mirror reverberating back to him instead. But you can see right through the facade. Pride. Shame. Disappointment. All too familiar.

The guilt is rubbing off on you. When you talked him out of ascension, you believed that it would be the best decision for him. You were no better than the others.

No. This shouldn’t be the answer. If the cloak’s got you nowhere then you just have to look at this situation from a different perspective. Take matters into your own hands, even if danger is on deck. At the very least, you have to try.

You made camp for the night; a quaint spot overlooking the horizon that joins the sky and the sea, with the moon taking stage in a cloudless canvas. The pale elf took charge of the campfire with a stick in his hand to poke the flame. Next to him, you lie down with your hands weaving through the air, connecting the stars together, making a revelation to your own understanding of your magic. It flows through you like the air that you breathe; like calm waters gliding your hands.

This might be the perfect time to ask, though wyverns gnaw at your stomach, you’ve run through this scenario millions of times in your head. You’re prepared, you think.

The lavender and turquoise hue dissipates from your fingertips, you steal a glance in Astarion’s direction and sit up amid his distraction.

“If you’re getting tired, you should sleep first. I’ll join you in a little while.” He chimes out.

His little ritual, you’ve noticed. Whenever the two of you opted to camp in the arms of nature instead of paying for a tavern’s night and listening to drunk patrons shouting till the break of dawn. He would lay with you in your bedroll until you fell asleep, then as quiet as a mouse, he’d get up an hour or two just before sunrise. You’d caught him once, just as curiosity nips at you, slipping out of the tent and finding him sitting in the open field with the blades of grass swaying to its own rhythm. Just watching, waiting. Waiting to catch a glimpse of the sun, as it slowly casts life back to the lands, before the ray decays him. The light sears his skin and cracks like dry paint, biting down the pain as much as possible until he’s bound back to the shadows. Then you’ll find him in bed again like nothing ever happened.

“Astarion?”

“Yes, darling?” He hummed.

“What if…” you hesitated, “what if we stop looking for this cloak?” Your voice wavered at the end of your sentence.

The stick in his hand stopped. You can see it, the thoughts forming in his mind like a potion. Stunned, confusion and a drop of anger concocted in muddy colour. But like a cork on top, he bottled it up when he soon turned to face you, the warm glow lit up his plastic grin.

“Oh, heavens! I forgot about that until you’ve brought it up.” His voice is in a higher octave. A string of vicious mockery disguising his lie, in all honesty, stings more than you think.

“No, that’s not—let me rephrase this. W-what I’m trying to say is, how about we look for a different method?” You asked, hands fidgeting more than usual.

His crimson gaze pierced in you, they engulfed and tangled like flames, wanting to swallow you whole till you’re nothing but a pile of ashes. “Vampirism isn’t an illness or a wound. If a person dies, they could be resurrected. But I’m too far gone beyond the point of living now, darling. There is no other way.” He snarled, snapping his gaze away before he could say something he truly regrets.

“But..there is another way.” Your voice comes out with nothing short of a whisper. Astarion’s shoulders slumped as he perceived your words, now fire in his eyes had extinguished and reflected with the solemn of moonlight.

Hope.

You spring onto your feet and take his hands into yours, thumb gently caressing his skin.

“Don’t give me any hope. 200 years of hoping for hope has tormented me endlessly that I do not want to be part of it again. Please…I do not have the heart to take this…” Astarion whimpered. You can hear the sob suppressed in his throat for the last 200 years as his hands tremble, emotions so vulnerable and unravelled right in front of you that he so desperately tried to hide. It shouldn’t be like this. It breaks your heart to see the man earning his freedom, yet the illusions of shackles are still tying him down.

It is unfair.

You grip his hands tighter to your heart, biting down the tears threatening to spill. “When there’s a will, there is a way,” You smiled. “Astarion Ancunin, what is it that you wish for?”

“What? But—I don’t understand—“ his brows furrow trying to make sense of your words but failing. Yet, he can feel a tingle at the back of his neck. A sign.

“Please, Astarion. Tell me your wish.”

The warning bells in his mind are telling him to run, to end this conversation right here, right now. But the fluttering feeling in his gut is saying ‘This is it. This is the moment you’ve been desperately trying to find’. Now the sparkle in your eyes is drawing him in, things that he had been longing for, and the love you are showing him. The sign he’d desperately prayed to the gods for all these years.

“I wish…” he trailed off, “I wish to walk in the sun again. I wish to see this world in the light that I was created in; I wish to take back the life that was ripped away from me for all these years, in darkness and torment, to have what is rightfully mine.

I wish to live again.”

The soil beneath your feet vibrates and crackles, the fabric of your clothes softly ripples in the air; a lavender beam emerges through and etches your runes, circling a gateway around both of you.

“Then, your wish is my command.”

Statics channelling in the air as you tune yourself to the weave. You can feel it. You can feel it all—the dark musk of ember, the evergreen blades rustle, the crashing of ocean waves. Magic tying deep into the burrows of the Earth willing to your command, feeding brighter into your rune as you hold on to its reins. But, the power of this spell is not without a cost, like gravity dragging you down. Your face breaks into sweat with the force burning in your gut.

“Stop that! You’re killing yourself!” Astarion struggles to break free from your grasp.

“Don’t—I’m almost there!”

A sinking pressure presses in Astarion’s chest; it’s warm, then burns aflame but it does not hurt; the pressure pushes deeper, searing through his organs and scratches at each porous of his rib cage. And then, gone.

The sound of silence.

Your legs give out as you crumble onto the floor, ready for impact. With a swift motion, Astarion catches you in his arms and carefully lays you in his lap. His mouth opens, ready to protest with his snarky remarks but closes it again, brushing away strands of stray hair from your battered face.

You chuckled breathlessly, reaching your hand, heavy as it may, and cupped his face. “Your wish has been granted.”

The sky begins to transition in lilac as dawn breaks, the ocean glimmers on the horizon and songbirds sing their tunes again. The red flaming ball peeked through the crystal water, bringing out the soft glow of orange. As the first ray of light shines, the warmth of it carries. Hungry, delicate, a sign of life.

“I’m…alive.”

A gentle breeze picks up and brushes against his cheek; hot tears spew from the corner of his eyes. So naturally warm. So, very warm. The silvery strands swayed to the rhythm of the wind, and he inhaled deeply, as much as his frail body could hold, the nostalgic scent of sunshine, like a spring afternoon.

Then, an unfamiliar familiar sense came. A thud. And another. Something rattling endlessly at his ribcage threatening to come out and yet staying in its place, a rhythmic humming coursing through his chest to the tips of his fingers. A sound so loud thumping and yet so quiet as a whisper in his ear. A sense of jamais vu. 

“You'll always be who you are. No matter what you've become—a vampire or not. I will love you as long as life continues to breathe on these vast lands. And till the end of time."

Astarion squeezes you into a tight hug. He’s trembling in your embrace, and catching you off guard, he bursts into a fit of laughter. Maybe even your first time to hear him laughing with such carefree manner but the heat of his tears travels to your shoulder. Your hand finds its way to his soft locks, petting him as you melt deeper into his touch.

He pulls back, eyes frantically searching your face. “I-I don’t—I can’t—“ he clears his throat, “thank you, my love.”

He cups your cheeks and gravitates towards your lips. Sweet and velvety, your lips curl at his kiss. He pulls away just enough to admire your features; cheeks flushed rosy and eyes bright and confident. Everything about you is love-touched, that after centuries, someone could cut through the world to bring him back into the light.

“Now, are you going to stare at me all morning, or are we going to get some breakfast?” You teased.

“Actually, I was thinking,” Astarion eyes you up and down. Whenever he has some brilliant idea, it’s never a good one. “The tent’s been empty all night, and I think we should, um, keep our bedrolls warm, at least.”

His hand slithers its way under the hem of your shirt, running a hand at your soft curves. You sigh in defeat, knowing you could never say no to his lovable face.

“Fine. I guess breakfast can wait.” You smirk.

Hands flew to the collar of his shirt as you yank him down to your lips. You parted them slightly, an invitation for him to deepen his kiss, teeth included. It might be a long morning, but there are plenty of mornings yet to come.

[ilovefakemilitarymen]

Deal with the Devil

Professor!John Price x Student!Reader (Part 1)

——————————————

A/N: Originally posted this to AO3 and then decided to start a Tumblr account for some COD x readers and headcanons. So, if any body is interested, my requests will be open for the next couple of weeks till I hit about 10-15 or maybe more if this gets a lot of love. I’ll be posting a list of who I’ll write for later today. Enjoy!

Word Count: ~3.4k

CW: Inappropriate Teacher/Student relationship///This part is pretty tame, it’s the later parts you have to worry about but each will have their own warnings attached.

The truth was as simple as this: You were failing History.

Terribly at that, and it would take an act from whichever god would take pity on you to get your grade above the F you were currently sporting on your most recent report card. You were determined to get at least a C by the time the next report card came around, just so you wouldn’t have to take the same damn class for another semester.

The second truth was not as simple: Your teacher was as hot as the sun in the Nevada desert during the summer solstice.

He was a man that played by the rules, teaching tough love in the form of not giving a shit when you didn’t turn a paper in on time. His rules were strict, and so was his grading system. Professor Price was going to be the death of your college career. That didn’t keep you from eyeing the way he moved during the lecture, and it didn’t help that he was the type to make eye contact with each of his students to make sure they were paying attention, forcing you to keep your eyes off of his body and on his face for the entire hour that he spent lecturing the class on the different wars that had plagued the earth.

Despite failing, you had to admit his class was one you had looked forward to. However, it's not because you had a love for history, it’s to ogle the man that taught you. You should probably feel bad, but you didn’t. You couldn’t focus when he wore the furthest thing from educational wear, usually sporting a simple tee that fit him a little bit too well and either a pair of dress pants or coming in what looked like uniform pants that you could only guess were from his earlier days in the military. He had never talked about his days before becoming a professor, but you could about guess it was something that kept him fit by the way his muscles threatened to shred his thin shirt.

However, none of this could explain why you were now leaning over his desk, trying to bribe him into taking the paper you had tried to turn in late.

Price leans back in his chair in the front of the class, hitting his pen against his hand and taking in every word you had whispered to him, trying to keep your voice down as much as possible.

“Isn’t there any way you can take the paper?” Your hands press heavily against the edge of his desk. There aren't many times that you had come up to him instead of it being the other way around. He was continuously trying to get you to turn your work in on time, but lo and behold, it seems that his prodding had gone in one ear and out the other.

“No,” He speaks sternly, and you can’t help the way your shoulders drop at his words.

“But-” You begin again, but he cuts you off before you can even say anything else.

“You should have turned it in,” He shrugs, his more nonchalant attitude coming out in his words. You knew he didn’t give a shit if you failed but you wished he would at least take some pity on you. “I told you multiple times when it was due, and you ignored it.” His eyes shone with mischief, and you knew he was a man that had seen a lot worse than a student practically on her knees, begging for a second chance.

“I promise it won’t happen again, sir” You tacked on the last bit, trying to play into the small power trip he has, but it does nothing. “Just give me one more chance.”

“And I’m supposed to trust that?” His words aren’t harsh when they come out of his mouth, just stern, “You had multiple chances to turn that paper in on time, so your irresponsibility doesn’t seem like it’s my problem.” He leans back up on his desk as he speaks, nodding towards the small folder in your hand.

You had worked all night trying to get this paper written, staying up damn near the sunrise just to get it to him on time, only to realize the due date was yesterday when you had moved to turn it in.

Your words come out with not much thought from you, but the smirk on his face spurs you on, “Just this once, please. I’ll do anything, sir.”

You hadn’t realized how much trouble your words would get you into just yet.

Price leans back in his chair again, continuing to fiddle with his pen as he gives you a small chuckle. It’s barely there but you hear it and his words come shortly after, “Anything?” You give him a small nod at his words, “You know what they say about making deals with the devil?”

“No…” You breathe out slightly at his words and they imply something, but you’re not quite sure. You can’t help but look down at his arms. There’s no way he’s implying what you think he’s implying, but you don’t stop your mind from wandering.

“Then I guess we don’t have a deal,” He leans back up moving to begin grading papers again, “You’ll just have to accept the grade you earned.” He doesn’t give you another look, instead his pen moves against the paper as he tries his best to ignore your presence.

“Wait- What do they say, about making deals with the devil?” You continue to lean on his desk, voice low. “I’d sell my soul for a good grade in this class, sir. I’m begging.”

“You’d sell your soul, would you?” His face turns towards you, a small smirk playing at his lips, and you have to admit he looks god-damn attractive like that, about a foot or so between the two of you. You can only nod, eyes glancing down at his hands once again.

You don’t care if he’s just some creep wanting you to suck him off in the back closet once for him to take your late paper, and you also don’t admit to yourself that you would probably do it if he offered, good grade or not. He’s the hottest thing you’ve laid your eyes on in years and a heat pools in your abdomen at the thought of it.

“I don’t know about your soul, but we might be able to make another deal.” His words are low as he speaks, his face turning back to his papers, and his pen moves, marking little details in the margin of the paper.

“Anything, I’d do anything…” Your words trail off, waiting to hear whatever he has to say.

He nods, taking in your words before he moves to put his hands under his chin. There’s a devious smile under his mutton chops, and when he finally speaks, it’s not what you really expected him to say. “I want you to be my personal errand girl for the rest of the semester.” He takes in your reaction, eyes on your face for a reaction, “That means you’ll grade papers for me, fetch me coffee, and do whatever else I need you to do.” Your shoulders slump slightly, and you can’t believe you had fully expected him to tell you he’d be bending you over his desk for a passing grade. Your eyes don’t catch the way his lips had darted out to wet his lips at the words, ‘anything else’. “And in return, I’ll give you a passing grade, but if you fail to do so, I won’t hesitate to fail you.”

“Is that all? I can manage that.” You say confidently. You can be his personal lap dog for the rest of the semester. It really didn’t seem all that bad.

“Oh, I don’t think you understand the full extent of what I’m asking,” You watch his face as he speaks, “But if you’re willing, then we have a deal.” He raises his hand to you, intending to shake on the agreement.

“What?” You say a little bit snarky, “I get you coffee when you ask for it, and you say jump and I ask how high?” You reach your hand out, placing your palm in his. The calluses against his palm scratch against your soft one.

“Something like that,” He speaks as he shakes your hand, and you don’t realize that one handshake will be your unraveling. “We’ll discuss the details after class. For now, get back to your seat and let me finish grading these papers.”

“Of course,” You nod eagerly, placing the folder on his desk before turning to make your way back to your own seat, and he turns back down, moving through the papers with grace, marking along the pages at the right and wrong information.

Professor Price has always been a little bit of a wildcard, but you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief when you finally get back to your seat. You’re not sure what you had actually got yourself into, but you swear to yourself not to screw up the chance he’s given you. The work in front of you is completed rather quickly, which is lucky considering you can’t focus through class and have to rely solely on the reading. You can’t help it that the sheer circumference of the man's arms get more attention from you than the words he speaks. It would be nice if your slight infatuation with him would garner you some way to get information from his words instead of turning your brain into a pile of mush.

Your gaze moves up to him, and you catch his eyes on you. He gives you a small smirk, and you can tell he’s quite pleased to have you agree to his little deal, and you can’t help but feel slightly flustered from the unwarranted attention. He’s probably just excited to get some of his workload off of him.

Your eyes stay turned to him, even after he looks away, and you know you shouldn’t stare, but you can’t really help yourself. Your work is finished in front of you, so taking a break from the reading to watch him grade his papers shouldn’t hurt.

His arms are lean, and his muscles seem to flex each time he raises his arm to flick his pen against one of the papers. Your mind flows back into wondering just what it was he had done before deciding to become a professor. Despite it being in the past, he definitely continues to work out since there’s no way he’s keeping a physique like that just lounging around the house all day.

“Something on your mind?” His voice comes out, tearing you out of your thoughts and you look up, realizing he had caught your eyes on him.

You decide to say fuck it, and shoot, asking him the question you had wondered for the last couple of weeks, “What did you do before you were a professor, sir?” Your question garners a few looks from the other students in class, their eyes turning to him, probably wondering the same thing.

“Well,” He lays his pen down before he speaks, “I’ve had quite the career,” His voice carries through the classroom, looking at you before turning his gaze to the other students. “I served in the military for many years, fought in several wars, but,” His eyes are on you again, “Now I’m here teaching the next generation.”

You nod to him, turning your attention to the textbook in front of you but the voice of another student pries you away from it, “Explains the drill sergeant attitude.” It’s followed by a small laugh. Price just shrugs, not really disagreeing with him.

Price finally dismisses the class moments later, slightly early, but you do your best to lag behind, gathering your things in your bag, and throwing it over your shoulder as the last student filters out. You move to walk to his desk, knowing he’d want to talk to you about your little ‘agreement’. Price is also packing up his things, stuffing papers into a folder before he pushes it into what looks like a laptop bag.

His eyes pull towards yours, and you watch as he lays a heavy hand down on his desk, “First things first, I expect you to be at my beck and call whenever I need you,” He pulls the bag over his shoulder as he speaks.

“Yes sir,” You speak, nodding at him. Your hands play with each other nervously.

“If I ask you to fetch me coffee, you do so. If I need you to grade papers for me, you do so.” He speaks and you continue to nod to him.

He continues, “Good, secondly, I’ll need you to keep my schedule organized,” He hands you a small planner, and you come to realize this is going to be a little more time-consuming than you had expected. “You’ll be responsible for making sure I’m on time, whether it’s a class, a meeting, or any other obligations.” He studies you as he speaks, “Lastly, I expect you to be discreet about our agreement. I don’t do this for any other student, so no one needs to know about this. If anyone asks, you’re simply helping me with some extra work. If it gets out, I won’t think twice about failing you.” He watches you as you nod to his requests, but you can’t help the itch at the back of your brain. “Is that clear?”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” You speak, eyes resting on his, “Helping you with extra work?”

“Yes, that is one way to put it.” He smirks slightly, “And you’re not to question my authority or disobey my orders.” He leaves the air open for a moment, gauging your reaction to his words, “Understood?”

The way he speaks, just in his simple tone, makes a heat pool between your legs, but you have to pull yourself out of your thoughts. He doesn’t mean anything by it, it’s his military nature. You’re sure he had a high rank, his commanding presence sure to make anybody weak in the knees.

“Yes sir,” I speak, my words a lot lower than I had meant. It feels like a big secret, something shared with you and you alone. You can’t help that it makes you excited.

“Is there anything else you’d like to clear up,” He speaks before he adds, “You seem a little distracted.” His words are low, but you have to push the feeling that rises in you down. He’s your professor, he’s just trying to make sure you understand what he’s saying.

“This just feels a little more secretive than I was expecting.” Your words tumble out of their own accord.

“Our agreement is a little less...conventional than most,” He gives you a small smile, innocent in nature, but you can’t help but get excited. It is something that only you and he share. “I don’t offer extra credit for anyone else, and we wouldn’t want to make any other student jealous, would we?” You shake your head at his question. “Plus, I think you’re up for the challenge, aren’t you?”

You can feel your heart rate pick up, “Yes sir.”

“Now, I expect you to keep me on schedule,” He taps on the planner resting in your hands, and you nod at him eagerly. “And if you do a good job, I’ll reward you with some extra credit.”

You nod to him again, hoping you don’t come off as too excited, “I’ll do my best, sir.”

“I’m sure you will,” He moves around the desk, “You can go ahead and head out for today, I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

You adjust the bag on your shoulder, moving to put his planner in as you head out of the classroom. You can feel his eyes on you as you leave, and it leaves you with a feeling of excitement and anticipation. You had never expected him to give in and offer you extra credit. It’s definitely going to be a lot of hard work on your part but you’re practically buzzing at the idea of being able to do these things for him in exchange for a better grade. You’re willing to do what it takes to get through this in one piece, and hopefully not have to take another history class in the next semester.

------

That night, you finally open up his planner, eyes roaming over all the things he does in his day. You look across the margins where he has small dates and times in place, and various meetings are strewn across the pages. To put it simply, the entire planner is a damn mess. No wonder he had asked you to keep up with it. Just looking at it would give any normal human a headache.

You scoff, pulling out your own planner that admittedly doesn’t get much use. At least you can use the thing you had spent an ungodly amount of money on during this agreement. You look through the pages of his planner, transferring whatever information you could get into a better format into your own planner.

Along one of the pages, you find what seems to be his personal phone number. You quickly put it into your phone, making a mental note to give him a call in the morning. He probably already knows about the class, but you don’t want to disappoint, so you decide to tell him every time he has something to do, including the regularly scheduled things that are probably muscle memory to him at this point.

There’s a meeting about an hour after his first class, and then another evening class around 3. It shouldn’t be too hard to just let him know after class that he has a meeting to attend. You close the planners, putting the both of them into your bag before cutting the small desk lamp off and heading to bed.

The alarm blares loudly the next morning, pulling you out of your sleep, and within moments, you shoot up, remembering your deal with Professor Price. Your hand reaches around for your phone, finding it half stuck under some pillows. You cut the alarm off before moving to your contacts, taking a deep breath, finding his name, and pressing call.

Your nerves are on edge from the simple task of waking him up. The entire thing is now reeling in your head. What if he hadn’t wanted you to call him?

His voice is groggy when he finally picks up the phone, laced with sleep and it sends a jolt directly between your legs, “Hello?” He sounds slightly confused.

You cut to the chase fairly quickly, “It’s (y/n), found your number in your planner and thought you might want to know you have a class in an hour.” You hold your breath afterward, hoping that this is exactly what he had wanted from you.

“Right, right.” His voice comes heavy through the receiver, and you barely hear him mumble something that sounds a lot like ‘smart girl’ before he’s back to speaking to you again, “Thank you, I’ll be there on time.” He huffs a small chuckle now, and it sets your skin ablaze from the roughness of his early morning voice, “You’re proving to be quite useful already.”

It’s ridiculous what his small praise does to you, and you know that if he was there with you, you would have to keep yourself from falling to pieces, but he’s not, and you’re alone in your small solo dorm. You have free reign to lay your head back on the pillow and bask in his voice.

“Glad to be of service, sir.” Your voice comes out lower than you had wanted, but fuck, you can’t find it in yourself to care. You follow it with a light laugh.

“You’re going to be a very valuable asset to me,” You keen at the praise, and he continues to speak. “I’ll see you in class.” He finishes and the phone line goes dead. You let it rest against your chest and curse yourself.

This is gonna be a hell of a lot harder if he keeps praising you like that.