#i guess he would probably have an ensuit bathroom

[beannary]

ok what do rich people rooms look like

[piratefishmama]

Nest | Part 2

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

The welcome packet was a scripted welcome delivered so robotically that Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, it eased the tension, it did its job. It was also an informative tour of the room. The room wasn’t large by any means, the facility was underfunded, it wasn’t a five star hotel, it wasn’t even a three star hotel.

The room was around the size of a single-sized bedroom, with an ensuite bathroom attached with a bath/shower combo, and a toilet and sink. It had closet space, cupboards, a fold away bed, a few lamps, and a fridge to keep food fresh during the week.

Basic didn’t even begin to cover it. It was what was in the cupboards that made all the difference.

“Holy shit… that’s… that's a lot of blankets.”

“Hah, yeah, this is the soft furnishings cupboard, this is where you’ll find the basics for building the structure of a nest, pillows, blankets, there’s a fluffy rug in there for the base, have you… built a nest before?”

“I’m an omega dude, of course I’ve built a nest. But uh… it’s… it probably wouldn’t really… count I guess… it’s not—I’m not the best at it? The structure never really… stays.” It was a mess. It was an organised mess, that’s what Eddies nests tended to be. Just a big pile of stuff arranged in a sort of circle in his bedroom that just looked like he was adding to the mess that was already there.

Intentionally throwing his and his packs clothes on the floor in a sort of shape basically.

“There’s no ‘counting’ when building a nest, Eddie. A nest is unique to the omega, if yours is of the funhouse variety then it’s the funhouse variety, we can work with that.” He’d never been one for a perfectly perfect nest either, the magazines that boasted the perfect circular nest with perfectly tucked in walls and blankets artfully strewn and folded to create some kind of haven of comfort, it was all too artificial.

There was no personality in them. It was obvious at least several omegas at a time had built each of those nests and not one of those omegas would be fully comfortable in any of the end results.

“…We?”

“Yeah, we… if you want, I can help build it with you. Sometimes it helps to strengthen the trust between us and our patients to build the nests together” trust was important. “Sort of… mind-fucks the omega part of that brain of yours into thinking we’re mates, to be perfectly honest.”

“…Mates build nests together?” Hesitance, curiosity but seeped in hesitance, like he wasn’t sure if he should be asking, common for inexperienced Omegas.

“Mhm, sometimes. Sometimes the Omega can want to do it all themselves though, would you pref-”

“Help me.” Eddie had never had anyone to help him with a nest. His uncle stayed out of his way, didn’t want to even attempt to throw his hat into that chaotic ring, and while Eddie had always claimed that he was fine on his own… there was always just a lingering part of himself that wanted someone there to help him.

Someone to help him tuck in blankets properly, someone to help him find the perfect spot for the pillow he’d stolen from Jeff, or the flannel Gareth had given him, someone to help him find the perfect spot for that one oversized sweater he’d pilfered from Frank, or find a safe spot for the stupid graphic tee he’d snagged from his youngest pup, Henderson where it wouldn’t get soiled by activities.

He wanted someone there.

“Okay” it was that easy. Steve Harrington, of all the Alphas in Hawkins, was going to help him build a nest. Holy shit, thanks Gareth. Best wingman ever. “But first, the rest of the tour. That door there leads to an ensuite bathroom, it’s not big but it’ll do, the bed is fold away for space saving purposes, aaaaand—” He led Eddie over to another cupboard, lower to the ground and easily within reach of the open space on the floor where a nest could be built. “The contents of this cupboard will only be useful to you during the final stages of your heat, but it’s good to familiarize yourself with it and make your choices early so as to not overestimate what you can take in the moment while out of your mind.”

He crouched down and opened one of the doors, expecting the choked little sound Eddie made as he revealed what was inside. Heat aids. Ranging from small, to extra extra-large. All with knots. The small one's knot being about the size of his own fist.

“I don’t need to know what you pick, it’s none of my business, I wont be in the room when you use them. But it’s good to know which ones you want while coherent and lock away the others because a heat-broke mind will go for the biggest thing there to fill the ache and it’ll hurt you if you’re unprepared.” If he had no experience he meant.

An Omega, unlike what porn may suggest. Was not built to take something massive on the first go right out of the gate. Yes, they had ample amounts of slick, they self-lubricated enough to not need artificial lubricant, but stretch was still a thing that’d happen, and tearing was also a thing that could happen.

“…What would you suggest with what you know?” With what was on the clipboard.

“Have you used a heat aid before?”

“W-well, yeah I mean-pfft who hasn’t—of course I’ve use—”

“Eddie.”

“Shit’s expensive okay? I live in a trailer park for fucks sake, the only reason I can be here is cause my heat brain has become a danger to my own and others health. Not everyone can afford some fancy schman—” it was no longer optional for him, he had to have help. Steve was up, he was up on his feet and oh, oh now he understood the need for an alpha.

He got it.

The second that scent filled his senses, he got it.

Cinnamon, hot chocolate spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg, a warm log burning fire, and that voice, that soft crooning voice “easy… easy, it’s okay, Eddie, it’s okay, can I touch you?” He nodded, half expecting hands on his face or something but no, Steve kept it to his arms, his touch gentle, but grounding, those soft hazel eyes of his damn near hypnotic when mixed with that scent, all that building anxiety and stress just drifting away with each exhale “it’s okay to not have used one before, they’re not accessible for everyone, I know” his heats must have sucked.

“I’m older than you, Steve… it’s pathetic, I can’t even get laid by a fake dick…”

Steve couldn’t stop the little laugh even if he tried, just a soft little burst of laughter, thankfully… Eddie smiled over it. Just a little smile, a curve at the corner of his lips but it counted. His scent was levelling out, it counted. “Well, we’ll fix that this week, wont we?” Oh god they would, he’d fix it that week.

After that heat, he’d no longer feel the ache of a first stretch. Would he even remember it? Heat brains were so out of it he probably wouldn’t. Didn’t know if that was for the best or not. “…Should I have tried… y’know… to get laid before it came to this?”

“That’s not my place to say, Eddie, people go at their own pace. Think of it this way—” Eddie was honestly bracing himself for a sports metaphor or some shit, something he wouldn’t understand, and yet— “would you rather have a long, lengthy, slow paced campaign with intriguing twists, fun NPC’s, and unexpected turns, or a one shot that lasts ten minutes cause everyone rushed past all your cool little traps and NPC’s to reach the climax?”

“…Did you just D&D analogy me?” With accurate terminology?

“I did do that yes. Well?” He’d soaked up a lot while keeping Gareth company, the guy talked! Steve found it interesting. Eddie found that deeply attractive. Dammit Steve.

“…Lengthy campaign.”

“That’s what I thought. Now pick a heat aid and we’ll lock up the rest, professionally speaking, I suggest the small to medium. Small to start with to ease the stretch, but it won’t be enough to keep you satisfied, medium will do the trick for the long haul.” It was actually kind of impressive how nonchalant he was about it all. But Eddie supposed he did work there. That was his job.

Eddie would have probably spontaneously combusted by now if not for Steve pumping that calming cinnamon scent into the air.

“The long haul” Eddie parroted with a little grin

“Hey, that shit usually lasts the longest, you don’t wanna be stuck with a tiny heat aid for the entirety of it, I won’t be coming in to help you.” He was entirely on his own for that.

“Will that be okay though…?” Eddie picked out the two Steve suggested, the small being about the size of a coke can, while the medium held a little more length and girth to it. “If I’m—if we’re tricking the omega brain into thinking you’re my mate, wouldn’t I be freaking out if you’re not there for that bit?” Steve clicked the cupboard shut and latched it.

“You’ll have a weighted blanket that sort of matches my weight, it’ll have my scent all over it. That’s the best we can do. We’re not allowed in the room during that stage, hell even the cameras get turned off for your privacy.” Cameras off, of course nobody would be allowed in, anyone could take advantage with the cameras off “A female Beta will check on you regularly to make sure you’re eating and getting enough liquids, but for both your safety, and ours, Alphas can’t be in the room. I dont even get access to your door key when that stage hits, only a Beta can have access. But I will be there for the come down, I promise.”

“…The come down?”

“Ehh… kind of like aftercare, all the soft stuff you’ll be craving after all that intensity.” That made sense.

“W-What if I hurt the Beta that checks on me? I almost hurt Wayne, I’d definitely hurt a stranger.” A very valid point, he’d ask Robin what the protocol for that was, she’d know the specifics.

“We’ll make it work, Eddie… that’s what we do here, we’ll make it okay for you” that touch was back, gentle, he held Eddie’s biceps, thumbs pressing gentle circles into the fabric of his sleeves, Gareth was right. Steve was perfect, reassuring, and his calming scent? A dream. “You’ll be okay, you’re gonna get through this week, and everything will be okay.” It’d be okay, everything would be okay. “Now… how about we get started on your nest?”

Steve had no idea how much he needed dimples in his life, before a huge beaming grin introduced them to him. Good lord that was a smile.

He knew Eddie was all kinds of loud and theatrical from school, knew he laughed, he smiled, he lived his life in a way that he enjoyed regardless of what others thought of him, but… god that was a smile.

“You get the rug, I’ll get the pillows!” And he was off. Excitement replacing anxiety, a bundle of wild energy begging to be chased, and Alphas were nothing if not excellent at chasing Omegas, especially ones as cute as Eddie.

Part 4

[fryday]

I feel so weird about the fact that I'm invested in the layout of their house, but like I like home tours and interior design shows, so I'm telling myself that my brain just picks up on things.

Ok, I think that there are 3 floors. It seems to be a narrow house, so maybe a row house/ town house, maybe on the end because they're a bit bigger. They said they built it and also said they gutted it, so I'm guessing exterior is old, all new interior structure.

First floor- entryway, bedroom, office, downstairs lounge/blue couch room and another bathroom. I agree that Phil came back with that chair too quickly for it to be on another floor. Also, Dan's dead plant TikTok, he opens a pocket door and it looks like he is in the office for a few frames before he zooms in. In the one where they do dragon makeovers Dan asks if he can use a towel from Phil's bathroom. So the ensuite is Dan's and Phil has a full bath in the hallway that is his?

Second/main floor- lounge, kitchen, dining. The black feature wall goes from the kitchen around the piano and into the living area. (Shuffleboard, Wdapteo, and homeowning homosexual photos for reference) Also, in Dan's Leaving Me, when Phil demonstrates how he runs down the stairs, you can see the black wall upstairs.

Third floor- probably Phil's regular filming room, green room with ensuite, maybe another bathroom. In shuffleboard vid, they say they don't want to drag all the stuff back upstairs, so it probably came out of Phil's filming room, as he likely uses a tripod and in the office they use a mounted camera.

They also need like utility closets and laundry and stuff somewhere, too. I'm probably all wrong.

(phouse layout discussion)

INTERESTING. FASCINATING. thank you anon!! we are indebted to your interior design-loving brain.

i would have suggested that the green room is on the ground floor too and the blue couch room is in the basement but google tells me it's unusual for houses in the uk to have basements? so that's out, i guess. in which case your theory that it's on the same floor as the bedroom + office + etc makes sense. mayyybe there'd be space for the green room as well but who knows

the deductions you made based on stuff they've said make a lot of sense though, this is really good. thanks again! will put this under my phouse tag

[talanashta]

Stevie Week Day 2

I'm late (only discovered this event today), but have my lil fill for day 2 @stevieweek! Prompt was "gender euphoria," but it can also (probably) fill "first dress." I'm going to try to get to the other prompts soon too!

Word Count: 707, Rating: G, Pairing: Gen (or can be read as one-sided Stobin)

“It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you. But I’m not like your other friends, and I’m not like Nancy Wheeler.”

“Robin. That’s exactly why I like you.”

“Tammy Thompson. I wanted her to look at me.”

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl… Oh.”

It’d been months since their conversation on the floor of the men’s bathroom at the Starcourt movie theater, and Steve still couldn’t get it out of his head. At first, he’d thought maybe he was still weird about Robin liking girls, but that didn’t feel right. He’d thought maybe it was his crush on her, but he respected her boundaries. She was his best friend, and that was perfect! He’d never had anyone like her in his life before. Tommy used to be his best friend, and he’d never even come close to how much Steve and Robin clicked.

Steve spent night after night staring at the ceiling of his bedroom in the dark, forced to contemplate it. It was that or think about the nightmares. He’d been, not sad, something else, when Robin essentially told him she didn’t like him back because he was a boy. It wasn’t how being turned down normally felt. This was like a throbbing ache in his chest and a hollowness in his stomach. It felt like being called bullshit by Nancy. Like he was wrong. Then the tears started falling.

He only let himself cry like this in the dark of his room with his parents away. Great heaving sobs where his breath hitched, clutching at his chest like he wanted to rip it open to tear out the negative feelings.

All his thoughts swirled through his head like he was drowning in them, being whisked away in a flood.

He remembered all the times he had felt like this in the past. How sometimes, with his skin crawling, he’d rush to the bathroom and frantically shave all his body hair to feel safe and normal. How his voice dropping had made him scream into his pillow at night. How he’d rub his fingers over and over his mother’s silkiest dresses when his parents were gone.

He’d explained it all away. He got used to being hairless during swimming, so of course, it felt weird having it back during the off-season. Alongside voice changes, puberty caused strong emotions from hormones (or something like that; that’s what the guidance counselor said during sex ed), so of course, he had the urge to scream sometimes. He missed his parents, but especially his mom, so of course, he wanted to feel close to her by grabbing the hem of her dress like he would when he was little.

It was all adding up, though, and sure, he wasn’t good at math, but he could add two plus two. All those times when he stared at girls’ hair and makeup a little too long feeling envious of how pretty they were. How much care and attention he paid to his own hair, keeping it as long as his father would let him.

Maybe he was… a girl? He- she- she decided to test her idea.

In the dark of night, she padded down the stairs to her parents’ room. She looked through her mother’s closet for a dress that looked like it might fit. She grabbed the first one she found in a stretchy fabric and headed to the ensuite.

The drawers on the right held her mother’s makeup, and while she didn’t quite know how to put it all on, she’d seen Nancy and her mother do it enough times that she could make a decent guess.

She pulled the dress over her head, fluffed her hair, and started in on the makeup. It felt right wrong right, so she leaned in as close to the mirror as she could so she couldn’t see the whole image. Just focused on applying the eyeshadow, liner, blush, lipstick. Until there was nothing left. Until she had to step back from the mirror.

She burst out into tears again, instantly ruining her work. Mascara ran down her cheeks. But her heart soared. She felt like she’d float away into the stars.

She’d never looked more like herself.

[autisticlancemcclain]

It’s the whispering that gets her. Loud conversations and jokes are par for the course — that’s not interesting. That’s whatever. That’s something she’ll probably have to hear about, recounted tomorrow morning at breakfast.

But whispering? Now that has Pidge intrigued.

She creeps towards Lance’s door, which is just barely cracked open, and crouches low to avoid being seen. She peers through the crack, squinting to see through the low light — Lance hates big lights and only ever has crystals glowing in his room.

Knelt on Lance’s floor are the Legs of Voltron themselves. Their heads are bent close, eyes glued to Lance’s blue daisy case covered-phone, whispering to each other. Pidge has to strain her ears to hear them.

“—you think it means? It’s just casual, right? Totally casual.”

“I mean, our texting is pretty casual, and he’s never sent me a winking emoji. I’m surprised he even knows what a winking emoji is.”

Lance frowns deeply. “Yeah, it’s weird! The colon is right next to the semicolon on a keyboard, though. It could just be an accident.”

“But it’s kind of a flirty message,” Hunk points out. “Look. ‘You sure as shit kept me on my toes today, Sharpshooter.’ Winky face. That’s flirty, Lance. I think Keith is actually flirting with you!”

Holy motherforking shirtballs!

Keith? Flirting with Lance?

Pidge can’t help her gasp. It’s literally involuntary.

She hits the floor the second the sound leaves her mouth. She dives to the side of the door, scrambling to her feet and running down the hallway as quickly as she can.

Only the rush makes her unbalanced, and she’s never been particularly agile, so she trips over her own feet and sprawls onto the floor face-first.

“Pidge?”

“Just — let me die,” she says, face burning. She refuses to lift her head from the ground.

To be caught spying, dear God. On Hunk and Lance’s sleepover. Is there any greater humiliation?

“You can join us, you know,” Hunk says, voice amused. “You don’t need to spy, you little weirdo.”

Pidge weighs her options quickly. She can get up, brush herself off, lie about being uninterested, and make the walk of shame back to her room and stare, bored, at her ceiling until she falls asleep.

She bites her lip.

Or, she can join these two dorks. She’ll never admit it under pain of death, but she’s always kind of wanted to be invited to a sleepover. She never got along well with kids her age growing up — at least, not well enough to be invited to things — and the jealousy she felt when other girls would bring their overnight bags to school and head home with a friend was positively burning.

She turns to face her teammates, deliberately pretending to be way less interested than she is, picking at her nails and shrugging. “I mean, I have some really important things to do, but I guess if you guys want to hang out with me so bad…”

Neither of them are convinced for even a second. Hunk has his left eyebrow raised, and Lance is smirking. But nevertheless, they don’t tease her about it any further, ushering her in and tossing pyjamas at her head.

“They’ll be a bit big, but you’ll manage,” Lance says. He tilts his head at his ensuite. “Bring me the sparkly pink bottle next to the sink on your way out, please.”

Quickly turning away so Lance can’t see her smile, Pidge does. She ducks into the washroom, locking the door behind her, and sets the soft PJs on the bathroom counter. She looks at herself carefully in the mirror, taking in the small smile she can’t force down, the bags under her eyes and the excitement in her irises.

A sleepover. An actual sleepover, with real people who aren’t her brother. With friends, to do stupid shit like gossip and tease and knowing Lance, do some sort of inane skincare.

Giddy, she hurriedly changes into the clothes Lance gave her, hefting up the way-too-long plaid pants and tying them tightly around her waist. She sleeps into the soft green t-shirt, which thankfully is decently close to her size. Lance is essentially 94% leg, after all, so that makes sense. She nearly forgets to grab the bottle Lance asked of her, thankfully remembering just before she opens the door.

She throws it at Lance the second she’s out of the washroom, sniggering at his loud yelp. He sits in the middle of a truly insane amount of soft things, including dozens of pillows, stuffed animals, who knows how many blankets, and —

Pidge squints. “Is that my fuckin’ duvet?”

“You took a million years getting changed,” Hunk explains. “We stole your entire bed. We got mine too. Mattresses are at the bottom of the pile. Want to help me make a structurally sound fort?”

Some part of Pidge wants to protest that — she has a keep out sign on her door for a reason and that reason is Hunk’s nosy ass — but the allure of building a fort is too strong.

“Toss me that measuring tape and a pencil. We are going to blow this shit out of the water.”

———

Forty minutes of her and Hunk’s arguing — interrupted occasionally by Lance’s complaining that forts are inherently unstable and that stem nerds such as them shouldn’t be allowed to ruin the fun — later, a truly beautiful fort is built. They had to sneak into the common room to steal the sturdy couch pillows to make the walls, but with those invaluable assets, Lance’s collection of safety pins, and two and a half dreams, the fort is a thing of fairytales. Two of their mattresses serve as the base, and one of them is the makeshift wall opposite to the real wall. A big sheet is pinned to the ceiling and drapes over the mattress-and-couch-pillow walls to drape like a tent, and blankets and pillows are strewn in a comfy nest over the base. Several low-light crystals are scattered throughout the fort, making it bright enough to see clearly but not too bright to kill the ambiance.

“This is, without a doubt, the best fort I have ever seen,” Hunk says proudly. He shares a grin with Pidge, then flicks Lance teasingly on the nose. “You see what happens when I have a helpful fort-making partner who cares about structural integrity?”

Lance huffs snootily. “You suck the fun out of it, that’s what. Yeah, maybe this fort won’t collapse on top of us while we sleep, but where’s the charm? That character? Where — hey!”

For a moment there is only silence. Eyes shift between Lance’s shocked face, hair a static mess, and the pillow in Pidge’s hands.

And then all hell breaks loose.

It’s ridiculous, really. A pillow fight, at a sleepover? What is this, a low-budget teen movie? But in truth this is nothing like any pillow fight Pidge has ever seen or even experienced before. As soon as the reality of the war sets in, it’s like a switch flips in everybody. All of them forget that they are teammates, friends, people who care about each other, and the one and only goal is to win, by any destructive means necessary. Pidge has a pillow clenched in each hand and whips them down at anyone who comes near — across Hunk’s face, hard into Lance’s belly. Hunk takes the more traditional approach, double-fisting one bigger pillow and wailing it on one victim at a time with full strength. Lance, extra ass bitch that he is, scrambles on top of a dresser like a spider monkey and throws small stuffed-animal projectiles. He never misses. Pidge is nailed in the face no less than twelve times.

After what feels like a thousand years of ruthless battle, Pidge starts to get tired. She’s sweaty, face bright red, hair sticking up everywhere, but she knows she can’t stop. Her honour is at stake, her pride. She will not be the first to fall. In fact she will not fall at all. She will push until she is victorious, until her enemies are felled by hear mighty pillow —

The trill tone of a text rings through the air. Lance makes loud, strangled noise from his perch, leaping off the dresser and somersaulting to his feet when he hits the floor.“Everybody freeze!” he screeches.

Beyond grateful at the call for a ceasefire, Pidge drops the pillows, panting with her hands braced on her knees.

“Dear fucking God almighty, ” Hunk wheezes. “My lungs have shrunk to the size of walnuts, I think.”

Pidge inhales deeply, trying to calm her galloping heart. “Me fucking too.”

She’s about to ask Lance how the hell he’s still standing, but then he lets out what can only be described as an ear-piercing squeal, hand not holding his phone flapping wildly as he hops around the ruins of their beautiful fort.

“Date! Date! I think it’s a date!”

“No way,” Hunk gasps, hurrying over to where Lance is celebrating. He wrenches the phone from Lance’s grip, eyes widening as he reads whatever is on the screen. “Dude!” he exclaims, grinning wildly. “Dude!”

“What?” Pidge finally demands, tired of being left out of the loop. Lance doesn’t answer, too busy spinning in giddy circles around the room until he trips on a stray stuffed animal and collapses on the fort ruins. He stays there, kicking his legs in the air and crowing in glee.

Pidge looks at Hunk, at a total loss for words. Lance is acting like a lunatic , which is saying something, because Lance is so strange regularly that her threshold for Lance-isms is pretty wide.

Despite his similar excitement on Lance’s behalf, Hunk is able to explain. He beckons her closer and points to a text open on Lance’s phone, from the contact ‘willie nelson wannabe’ — Keith. It reads:

from: willie nelson wannabe

i was thinking we cld maybe stick together for the next space mall trip??

from: willie nelson wannabe

u know. safety in numbers and all that

from: willie nelson wannabe

and maybe i can buy u that alien smoothie thing u were telling me about

Pidge’s jaw drops. She thought Lance was exaggerating, but this is very clearly a date. A nervous asking, sure, but the intent is clear.

“Keith?” she asks incredulously. “Lance and Keith? Since fucking when?” She swivels her head between Hunk and Lance, who has finally calmed himself enough to sit still, although a beam still lights up his face and brightens his brown eyes. “I thought you were into Allura!”

Lance waves a dismissive hand. “She’s objectively gorgeous so of course I was interested, you know? But she’s not interested in me, so any crush dried up pretty fast.”

“But Keith?” Pidge can’t quite let it go. Hunk guides her to the fort ruins, and she does willingly, flopping belly-first on top of a small pile of pillows. Her eyes never leave Lance’s. “When did that happen? I thought you two were rivals?”

Hunk snorts. “They are.” He rifles around for a moment, moving aside and shaking out some blankets until he finds the sparkly pink bottle Pidge brought out earlier at Lance’s instruction. He squeezes some green goop onto his fingers, gesturing for Pidge to come closer, and then starts smearing it all over her face as he speaks. “Lance is emotionally challenged and can’t flirt like a normal person, so he picks fights with Keith every time he wants attention.”

Lance sighs dreamily, grabbing something from a shelf and then sitting next to Pidge, too. He starts tying her hair back into short pigtails to get it out of her face, so it doesn’t get stuck in the goop.

“He’s such an asshole,” he says, still sounding whipped as all hell. “A few months ago he had enough of my shit, I guess. I was nagging him about being a show off and he told me to shut the fuck up or he was going to lay me out on the training mats. His eyes were so intense, and his voice was so low I thought I was gonna fucking —”

“Young ears present,” Hunk interrupts loudly, which usually Pidge would protest but in this particular moment decides she will let slide.

Lance goes a little red around the ears, smiling at her sheepishly. “Sorry, Pidgeon. Forgot you’re a baby.” He punctuates this statement with a squeezing of her cheeks, despite Hunk’s chiding about the still-wet facemask. Pidge tries and fails to kick him.

“Anyways,” Lance continues, “I kept being a shit until he really did hand me my ass on the mat, but then he started to get worried that I would die on missions because I suck at hand-to-hand or whatever. He basically forced me to start training with him.”

“Basically forced, he says.” Hunk looks at Pidge, deadpan. “He made his own training outfit — I will spare you the detail of how skimpy it was, you’re welcome — and did his hair. Every time.”

Pidge laughs, which feels weird because the facemask has made her face all stiff. “You did your hair to go train?”

“Oh, piss off. I’ve seen you act a fool whenever a particularly cool robot is anywhere near you, you hypocrite. Shut up and help me text him back.”

She and Hunk do, settling comfortably next to Lance. They snack on the bowl of cucumbers that Lance asserts is supposed to be for the faces, helping Lance draft a response.

“It can’t be too enthusiastic,” Lance mumbles, crouched over the phone. He’s been space-googling ‘how to text your crush like a cool person’ for twenty minutes. Hunk has completely checked out of the task, placing cucumber slices all over his face and giggling to himself. Pidge is starting to get itchy.

“Is this supposed to burn?” she questions, scratching at the dried facemask.

The question startles Lance into dropping his phone. “No, shit, it’s not. C’mere.” He takes a damp rag and gently wipes away the mask, patting her on the cheek when he’s done. “There!” he says, smiling brightly. “Bet that feels nice and fresh, huh?”

It does, actually. She feels like a goddamn daisy.

…But she’s not about to admit that.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

Lance rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He nudges Hunk with his foot and convinces him to help again, and together the three of them come up with a reasonable response to Keith’s question. (They convince Lance to be honest about his feelings, is what they do. And that’s not without endless nagging and clowning, Pidge can attest.)

Once the text has been sent, the date set, and Lance’s worries are assuaged, the sleepover starts to wind down. It’s well past two in the morning, and training — not including Lance’s private tutelage — was rough that morning. They start to yawn, and then their heads start to nod, and eventually they’re all laid flat on the piles of pillows and mattresses and bedding, limbs all over each other and stuffed animals everywhere.

“Hey, guys?” Pidge whispers, well past half asleep.

“Yeah?” Hunk whispers back. Lance hums.

Pidge doesn’t finish her thought for a while; long enough that she’s nearly sure the other two have fallen asleep.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she says eventually. After an even longer break, Hunk and Lance answer her, words lethargic in their sleepiness.

“‘Course, Pidge.”

“We like hanging out with you.”

Pidge falls asleep with a smile in her face, and sleeps the best she has since her brother went missing.

———

based on this post

[yeowangies]

Praise

Part I | Part II

❧

PAIRING: Vegeta/Reader RATING: Explicit CONTENTS: Explicit sexual content, a little body worship, dom/sub undertones, praising. WORDCOUNT: 4343

Summary:

If you had to guess, since he hadn’t pushed you away, or made any moves that would indicate that he wanted something more, Vegeta seemed to be enjoying your touch. A touch that wasn’t meant to hurt him, or take anything from him.

Notes:

I've been writing this for MONTHS and I'm finally done and happy with this!!!!

This is the third chapter of Edge I and II. No one edges anyone in this chapter, and I took a super cool suggestion from a comment I got on AO3 💖 so this is a softer ending compared to the first two chapters!

Enjoy!

“I don’t understand this.” Vegeta said flatly.

“Just humor me.”

“What do you get out of this?”

“Do this for me, please? I promise we’ll both enjoy this.”

“I don’t see the point. I’m capable of cleaning myself.”

You rolled your eyes. You were losing patience and that wasn’t good considering the circumstances. You really did want him to enjoy this, but his overanalyzing mind was doubting your intentions, which was ridiculous because you’d never hurt him. Not even if you could.

But you figured you couldn’t really blame him after your ‘challenge’ last time. You hadn’t hurt him but you certainly put him through hell.

“This is my reward.” You said softly, looking Vegeta in the eye. “And a prince deserves this kind of treatment, don’t you agree?”

That seemed to have worked; his shoulders visibly relaxed, even if just a bit, and he dropped his arms to the side. When you reached for his hand, he let you hold it. 

You led him to your ensuite bathroom, and he quickly reached for his armor to take it off, but with a hand on his forearm, you stopped him. He eyed you curiously, until your hand slid down to tug at the garment. 

“Let me.”

Vegeta didn’t reply, only let go of his armor to pull his arms up his head to make it easy for you to remove the covering before dropping it on the bathroom floor. His bodysuit was next, and you rapidly pulled off his skintight top up and off him, throwing it to the floor, before kneeling down to get rid of his boots. He kicked them off easily before you could even touch them, so you quickly moved on to get rid of his pants, tugging them down with a little more force than you expected to use. You pulled down his boxers last, and you tried not to stare at him too much once he was fully undressed. 

Some fresh bruises adorned his skin, probably a result from the early training he had that morning but that would highly likely disappear by nighttime, along with his old scars that you knew by heart. It was unbelievable that someone could have a body like his, with such defined muscles and hardened skin. You’ve been together for a long time then, but it still sent heat down your abdomen every time you got to see him naked. And he was half hard already, which made it slightly difficult to not jump him right then and there. 

A smirk grew on his face as you quickly stood up with a pink tint on your cheeks. You did your best to ignore Vegeta as you got rid of your own clothes, taking off your shirt as fast as you could, but you could feel his eyes fixed on you as you got naked in front of him. When you dropped your jeans and underwear at last, he was still looking at you intensely, but he didn’t make any move towards you. 

You turned on the shower then, waiting a few seconds for the water to warm up, before wordlessly taking his hand again and leading him underneath the spray right in front of you. As you both got soaked, water making both of your hair lay flat down your neck, you reached for the shampoo bottle, pouring a generous amount on your hand before reaching for his hair. Vegeta looked quite funny with his hair down, unlike his natural flame-like shape, but you only smiled as your fingers worked into his hair. His gaze was still on you, looking at you almost intrigued, until you started massaging his scalp. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. It wasn’t in your mind to tease him, but as you kept pressing your fingertips onto his skin, a quiet moan left his lips. 

Touching Vegeta with ulterior motives wasn’t what you planned (yet), so you worked the shampoo quickly before rinsing it off carefully, trying not to tug too hard. Running your fingers through his hair, admiring how soft it felt in that moment compared to how coarse it normally was, you checked to see if all the shampoo was gone before moving on.

You reached for the soap and began working to clean his skin. You started with his shoulders, delicately spreading the foam, tracing every little scar with your fingertips as you worked your way down. His gaze was once again on you, but when you looked at him briefly, it had softened considerably since minutes ago; it was comforting. You were mindful when you skimmed over certain bruises, and soon you dropped to your knees to run the soap over his legs. 

Vegeta moved slightly to better accommodate you, and you tried your best to ignore his half-hard cock; you didn’t want to cross any unspoken boundary. Your intention at the moment was to take care of him. It probably wasn’t what he was expecting, but he rarely ever let you ‘pamper’ him. He liked being in control, and you enjoyed it when he would make you submit to him, but this was entirely different; this situation wasn’t meant to be sexual, just a small gesture to let him know how much you care about him and how much you appreciate him. It would be something difficult to put into words, and difficult for him to hear them as well, but you could show him how you felt like this, tracing your fingers over his skin, thoroughly cleaning his body, without expecting anything else. 

And if you had to guess, since he hadn’t pushed you away, or made any moves that would indicate that he wanted something more, Vegeta seemed to be enjoying your touch. A touch that wasn’t meant to hurt him, or take anything from him. 

As you stood back up, having cleansed almost every corner of him completely, you moved to turn off the shower, but to your surprise, he caught your wrist. You blinked at him as he reached for the shampoo bottle before gently turning you around. When you felt his fingers working into your hair, the thought of mentioning to him that he absolutely did not have to do that crossed your mind. After all, you were doing it for him. 

You decided against it when he started massaging your scalp. It felt good, and the thought of Vegeta doing something like this for you, on his own free will, made your heart flutter. He was humbling himself; you had mentioned it before to convince him, he was a prince, and the prince of a proud warrior race at that. But he was washing your hair at the moment, delicately running his fingers through it to rinse the shampoo out. The gesture did not slip past you. 

The water was still warm enough to make the blush on your cheeks appear natural, and you were thankful for that when he turned you back around to face him. Vegeta pushed your hair over your shoulders and tucked some of the loose strands behind your ear before he reached for the soap to start working on your shoulders, following the same path you had marked on his body. You really had to fight the urge to gape at him. He had been gentle with you before, and it had left your mouth hanging open even then. But this felt so much different. 

It was funny when you noticed how red the tip of his ears were when he ran his hands over your breasts, you couldn’t control the small smile from your lips. Your heart jumped in your chest when he kneeled down, running the soap and spreading the foam over your thighs. You felt the need to tell him he didn’t have to do that, but when had Vegeta ever done something he didn’t want to? At least since he’s been on Earth; you can probably count those times with just one hand. You had to suppress any noise coming from your lips when his hands ran down one of your calves. This was a moment you wanted to engrave in your memory, and you didn’t dare to look away. 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face when he stood up in front of you with a very faint pink dust on his cheeks. That wasn’t because of the water, and you knew it. It caught you off guard to notice what was then an intense erection he was sporting. You didn’t stare at it, and you didn’t mention it either, and he did the same. But you felt a little pleased with yourself; after all, he got like that after touching your body all over. 

Vegeta turned off the shower as you reached for the towels, wrapping one around his body to help him dry off before taking your own towel. He stepped out of the shower first, wordlessly offering you his hand to help you get out as well, and you accepted it happily. A comfortable silence lingered in, and it followed you both onto the bedroom, Vegeta sitting down on the bed, with the towel wrapped around his waist, awaiting whatever it was that you had planned. Taking your place by his side, you sat down, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“That was nice, was it not?” You ask him playfully.

He remained quiet, and you knew it was because he did enjoy showering with you. 

“What now?” Vegeta asked, turning his head to look at you.

Offering him a sweet smile, you slowly unwrapped the towel from your body, dropping it onto the floor. He blushed slightly at the sight of your nudity, you had to contain your grin. You moved your hand to take off his towel, his erect cock practically bouncing free once you discarded it. 

You were aware of his affection for you, even if he didn’t show it conventionally, but he had maintained his enthusiasm for a while, and you hadn’t even kissed yet. 

Vegeta kept his eyes fixed on your face, anticipating your next move. He was still acting surprisingly docile, but you assume it was because of the relaxing shower. You glanced back at him, reveling in the gleam of his stare before leaning in to kiss him. Cupping his cheek, you pressed your lips softly to his, and he kissed you back with the same care. 

“Vegeta,” You trailed your lips down his jaw, in time with your hand that was carefully traveling lower. “You’re really handsome, you know that?”

His body tensed underneath your fingertips, but he didn't say anything. Without even looking, you knew he must be blushing. You skimmed over one of his nipples before your hand traced his abs slowly down to his navel, stopping just above the base of his cock. 

“Your body is to die for.” You whispered, pressing kisses on his neck.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” Vegeta asked, placing his arm around your shoulder as you turned your head to look at him. “You’re going to tease me the entire time?”

“I’m not teasing you, it’s the truth.”

You smiled genuinely at him, just as you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick. His lips parted slightly when you began to slowly stroke him. You watched his reactions carefully, taking in the expressions he made as you pleasured him; his head lolled back when you rub the slit with your thumb, and small, quiet grunts escaped his lips when you twisted your hand. 

“I adore watching you.” You told him, steadily speeding up your moves. 

This time, you could see the faint dust of pink on his cheeks. It was still adorable how easily embarrassed he could be in intimate situations.

Vegeta pushed you closer, kissing your lips rather forcefully, intertwining his tongue with yours. Your hand kept on pumping him, building up the pace, until you noticed precum dripping from the tip. He grunted when you released him, but you smiled reassuringly as you pulled away from his hold, sinking down to your knees in front of him.

Locking your eyes with his, you grabbed a hold of his cock, keeping it in place as you dragged your tongue from the base to the tip. He groaned, his hips bucking in when you wrapped your lips around the head. 

“Fuck…” Vegeta cursed when you swirled your tongue around. 

When you started bobbing your head up and down, taking more of him, you had to remind yourself you were doing this for him. The noises spilling from his lips made the skin between your legs tingle with anticipation, but this wasn’t about you, not yet at least. You had your mind set on showing him how much you appreciated him and how attracted you were to him. You obviously couldn’t compliment him with your mouth full, but the gesture was worth more than a thousand words. 

Humming around him, you earnestly sucked his cock, running your tongue on the underside as you pulled back before swallowing him down again, and soon the tip was grazing the back of your throat. One of his hands reached for your head, tangling his fingers with your hair and lightly tugging at it every time his dick was fully inside. 

Vegeta was close to an orgasm, his groans growing louder, and the hold he had of your hair getting tighter. His hips jerked up with every slide of your lips, seeking more friction, so you tried moving your head back and forth faster, your mind set on making him come soon, feeling the muscles in his abdomen tensing more often. 

It didn’t take long for him to reach his peak, suddenly thrusting in so desperately you practically choked. His cock twitched, and he came with a growl, filling your mouth with cum, leaving you no other choice but to swallow, and you did so gladly. Riding out his climax, his hips slowed down his moves gradually, until he finally pulled out, his hand on your head letting go. 

You looked up at Vegeta as you tried to catch your breath; he was panting, face flushed, and you adored him. You offered him a small smile, tracing your hands up his thighs, pressing small kisses to his stomach before standing up. He looked at you through hooded lids, with a gleam that you could only describe as enamored. You had rarely seen such a look in his eyes, and you felt like your heart might beat out of your chest. 

Vegeta pulled you close just as you moved to straddle his legs and sit on his lap. Leaning in to meet your lips with his, you kissed him nice and slow, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pressed his lips against yours with more desperation. You would have normally followed his lead, but you wanted to take your time; after all, technically you were the one calling the shots then. You kept your pace, gently tangling your tongue with his as you ran one of your hands through his hair, caressing his scalp with your fingers. He sighed contently against your lips as he tightened his hands on your waist.

It didn’t surprise you when you felt one hand in between your legs, but it still made you gasp when his fingers traced your entrance, so soft it was almost teasing. You were already wet from sucking his cock, and when he pressed one digit inside you, a sinfully wet sound invaded your ears as he started carefully pumping in and out of you. You moaned into his mouth, holding tighter onto his shoulders as he continued moving his finger, getting you ready for something bigger. 

Your toes curled when Vegeta added a second digit, and you broke the kiss, gasping at the intrusion as his moves got faster. He buried his mouth on your neck, licking and biting just as he pressed inside you just right, making you feel as if electricity was running through your veins. 

“Vegeta,” You whimpered shakily, earning a quiet chuckle from him. A yelp escaped you when he pressed his thumb against your clit. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, and spoke again. “I-I’m ready… Stop teasing me…”

“Weren’t you teasing me just a minute ago?” Vegeta asked in an obviously mocking tone, you could even feel his smirk against your skin as he traced his lips up your neck.

“I wasn’t… Everything I said was all true…” You moaned loudly again when he picked up the pace of his fingers, curling them inside you and grazing a sensitive spot that made your legs weak. “Please, Vegeta, I want you…”

Taking pity on you, Vegeta retracted his hand from between your legs, pulling away from your neck as he popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking on your slick. You blushed instantly at the sight, and he looked at you, amused. 

The next thing you know was that he had thrown you on the bed, making you bounce, before crawling over your body. It took you a couple of seconds until you realized that wasn't the position you wanted. You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to stop him, and he looked down at you with a frown. He obeyed to your surprise, when you pushed him to make him lay back on the mattress. 

“This is my reward, isn’t it?” You smirked, straddling his hips.

Vegeta looked at you with annoyance, but he complied. It must have killed him to not have the upper hand, but you know he would keep his word and let you do as you pleased. Leaning down and kissing his lips softly, you ran your hands over his shoulders, tracing his scars when you trailed your fingers down his chest and abdomen.

This was all for him. He had to know how attractive he was, and how much you adored him. 

Breaking off the kiss as you wrapped your hand around his erection, you eyed his expression carefully as you shifted to position yourself better, running the tip over your entrance.

“I wasn’t teasing you before, you’re really gorgeous, Vegeta.”

Sinking down in one swift move, his cock was sheathed inside you in an instant. Vegeta closed his eyes tightly, growling as his fingers dug into your skin. The intrusion was a bit uncomfortable at first, no matter that he had prepared you before; the stretch was delicious however, and you craved it more and more. 

As you supported your weight with your hands on his shoulders and your hips started to grind, you couldn’t help the whines leaving your lips. Your mind was already in a haze, heat tightly and steadily growing in your belly since he’d had his fingers on you, and then feeling his impressive dick touch every place inside you just right helped to build up your desire even more. His digits kept prodding your sides with a firm hold as he tried not to buck upwards. This was still your show after all.

“Oh, Vegeta,” You moaned, your eyes never leaving his face as you kept rocking against him. “You’re amazing, you fill me up perfectly.”

You witnessed his face glowing red as you complimented him, and couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re so good. Your cock feels so good.” You purred sensually, punctuating each word with a swing of your hips. 

The growl came rumbling deep from his chest this time, and his hold on your hips got tighter, making you wince, surely leaving bruises that you’d admire tomorrow. 

“Stop messing with me, woman!” Vegeta scolded you, keeping you firmly in place as he suddenly started roughly thrusting upwards, making you yelp. “Who do you think you’re talking to, using such filthy words?”

You tried to hold onto his shoulders as strongly as you could so you wouldn’t be knocked off balance by his sudden onslaught; it was difficult to do when his cock kept hitting inside you so wonderfully hard. You mewled over and over, trying to somehow keep the plan you had in mind afloat, even through all the intense pleasure you were being given at the moment. You looked at Vegeta through hooded lids, locking eyes again, finding his completely clouded by lust. 

“You like it when I do that, don’t you? When I praise you?” You showed him a small mischievous smile. “You don’t have to be ashamed.”

“I am not ashamed.” Vegeta scoffed, his face still sporting a faint red hue.

You leaned down to kiss him, savoring his mouth and stroking his cheek with one hand. Vegeta groaned against your lips, momentarily slowing down the moves of his hips but still holding tightly onto you, sliding his arms around your waist to keep you as close as possible, pressing your chest against his. 

Even through all the roughness he usually had around all his edges, he still managed to have small gestures that warmed your heart. 

“It’s only the two of us here.” You whispered into the kiss, whimpering when his hips snapped against yours. “And I only do this with you…”

His hand on your jaw took you off guard, making you gasp. You flushed instantly; it was such an alluring gesture, keeping your face in place while he leered at you with dark eyes, like he wanted to devour you whole.

“You’re only this lewd with me.” He said with a gruff voice so erotic it made you moan. 

“Only with you.” You whimpered, trying to keep your eyes open and fixed on his while Vegeta kept thrusting into you. “Only for you, my prince.”

Vegeta groaned, picking up the pace, and your eyes rolled back into your head. Your entire body was tense, the heat in your abdomen so close to snapping as the pleasure kept building up. 

You weren’t lying to him at all when you praised him, Vegeta was truly the only man who ever made you feel this insane amount of fulfillment. You knew he took it as a personal goal to make you reach your peak hard and ardently, and he delivered every single time, even if he tortured you a bit before getting there. 

“Vegeta, I was, ah-” A particularly harsh thrust threw you off balance, making your legs twitch. “I was made for you… And you were made for me-Fuck!”

Vegeta chuckled wickedly as you clung to him, trying to move your hips and meet his moves, but you found it impossible to do so. 

The unforgiven pace Vegeta had set kept growing, his hips slamming into yours, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin reaching your ears and adding to your arousal. Your mind was in a haze, and you could only think about his body, his lips, his cock. 

Vegeta, Vegeta, Vegeta.

Shuddering uncontrollably, you saw stars behind your lids as your orgasm took over, moaning loudly while Vegeta still had a hold of your face, watching your expression as you came undone. Jolts of pleasure traveled through your veins, making you vibrate as he kept ramming into you, prolonging the state of bliss you were in.

As you slowly rode out your orgasm, Vegeta gripped tightly onto your hips with both of his hands, grunting as his pace turned uneven, seeking his own release. You tried to keep your eyes open and watch him get to the edge, but his cock roughly sliding in and out of you without a pause after you had reached your peak was making it tough; you couldn’t stop shivering with aftershocks, even when you wanted nothing but to collapse on top of him. 

Slamming his hips violently, Vegeta buried his cock deep inside you when he came, filling you up to the brim with cum, making you gasp at the sensation. He growled, thrusting into you a couple of times until he was completely spent, letting go of your hips to hold onto your behind instead. 

Watching his brows furrowed, and his mouth parted slightly whenever he orgasmed was always insanely attractive. 

You hummed contently as you collapsed on top of him, nuzzling his neck as you tried to catch your breath. Vegeta was panting underneath you, his hands still curling on your butt and pressing you close. His small displays of affections were during brief moments like those, as he slowly skimmed one hand upwards, moving his fingers tenderly over your skin. You wondered if he was even conscious about them, because they certainly made you melt inside him whenever he did that. 

Planting a sweet kiss on his jaw, Vegeta turned to look at you curiously. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You asked him, trying not to revel too much in how well your plan turned out. 

He remained quiet, like he always did when you were right. You rolled your eyes, burying your nose in his neck, taking in his scent, mixed in with shampoo and the smell of sweat and sex. 

“Compared to what you put me through sometimes, this was nice.”

“You talk too much.” Vegeta commented, and you frowned.

“But I haven’t even said much yet.” You looked at him, finding a smirk on his lips, and you arched an eyebrow. “What?”

Sometimes his silence annoyed you, especially when he ignored your questions. You huffed, knowing well he had enjoyed what you did for him that day. You wanted him to admit it somehow, so you pressed on. He was expecting you to keep talking, anyway.

“What do you think about doing this again some other time?”

“…Occasionally.”

“So, does that mean you enjoyed it?” You smiled against the skin of his neck. 

“It was… pleasant.”

“So, yes? It was how a prince should be treated, after all.” 

Vegeta grunted. You know you must have stroked his already over inflated ego with that comment.

“I guess we both won, in the end.”

When he pinched your behind, you yelped, flinching in surprise. 

“You’re full of yourself, woman.”

“Look who’s talking.”

[peridotglimmer]

For the there was only one bed prompts: 13 for False and Cleo?

schaumi you have blessed me with this prompt, i love it so much. this uh turned out a lot longer than expected. count on me to suddenly write 1K of fluff. have some fluff featuring a pining idiot cleo. content warning for alcohol consumption. rated t due to cleo's vocabulary.

"I can take the floor?" "No it's alright, besides it's big enough for the both of us."

Suite Night

"Ugh." Cleo sighed, following False into the hotel suite. "I love X, but next time he and Keralis fall ill he can get someone else to fill in for him." She dropped her suitcase near the door. There was probably a stand somewhere, the hotel had four stars after all, but she couldn't be bothered. False chuckled.

"It's not that bad. The representatives weren't too bad this year!" She stretched, and her powder blue dress shirt came free from the waistband of her skirt, exposing the slightest strip of her bare abdomen. Cleo raised an eyebrow.

"We're we talking to the same idiots?" They walked up to False and pressed the back of their hand to the other woman's forehead. "You haven't got a fever, so you're not delirious. I counted three separate comments on your breasts, one on my arse, four zombie racists, and I stopped tallying the amount of times I got misgendered after seven." False's shoulders and face dropped, and Cleo immediately felt like biting her own tongue off.

"I really am sorry about that, Cleo. The sponsors, they're old money. Stuck in their ways."

"Even super glue has a solvent," Cleo muttered. They sighed. "Thank you for correcting them when I got tired of it, I do appreciate it." Smiling, False replied: "You're welcome."

"Well then." Cleo awkwardly cleared her throat. "I'm about ready to tear this penguin suit off and sleep for twelve glorious, uninterrupted hours before this circus starts all over again."

"Hm, I could go for a shower before bed." False was already digging through her duffel bag and retrieving various items.

"You do that; I'll order us something to drink and to snack on and pick a bed." Cleo grinned, already on their way to the phone.

"I'll take an ice cold white wine," False decided. "I won't be long." Cleo nodded, and False disappeared into the bathroom. It was a decently large suite, with a seating area with a tv and a dining table with room for two. The entire hotel was booked, with all servers looking to find sponsors for the new season. Xisuma had gotten lucky when he booked that there was a suite available at all.

The receptionist had a pleasant voice and took Cleo's order of a chilled bottle of white and a variety of charcuterie, put it on Mr Void's invoice. If Cleo was stuck here playing lust object for old white men, she was at least getting some decadent snacks out of it. The kitchen informed her they would bring it up to them within fifteen minutes, which would be just long enough for Cleo to choose the bed they wanted. Grabbing their suitcase, they walked over to the ensuite.

"Oh crap."

There was only one, king-sized bed.

Fuck! Xisuma had booked the room for himself and Keralis, of course they wouldn't want separate beds! No-one had thought of that when she and False had rushed to the event in their place this morning. Now what?

Cleo wasn't sure how long she had been standing in the doorway, but suddenly she heard False's voice behind her: "Claimed the nicest bed for yourself yet?"

"Uh. About that." Cleo stepped aside, trying not to stare at False as she entered the room clad only in an oversized tee.

"Oh." False bit her lip. "Guess this was booked for our lovebirds, huh?" She walked up to the bed and picked a rose petal off of the sheets.

"Yeah, but it's fine. I can sleep on the floor!" Cleo blurted out. They ran a hand through their hair. "I'm sure I can ask for a cot or an extra mattress or something. It's fine!" Her voice had gone up an entire octave as she spoke.

"Don't be ridiculous, Cleo." False turned to face her. "It's more than big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing." Suddenly, her voice got quieter. "... unless you do? Mind?"

"No, not at all!" Cleo really needed to get their volume and pitch under control. "We can-- yeah, we can share!" False yawned.

"Great. Then I vote for wine in bed, because I'm going to have to wear heels for at least five hours tomorrow as well as dance in them, and I want to get my feet up for as long as I possibly can in advance." A knock sounded at the door. Room service! "I'll go get the door so you can change. Just yell when you're ready, yeah?" Cleo nodded wordlessly.

As Cleo opened their suitcase, they cursed quietly. Out of all things she could have grabbed to wear to bed, why did it have to be an old tee and baggy shorts? She had blindly taken some things from her wardrobe this morning, and this is what she had ended up with. At least there weren't any holes in them, they supposed. Cleo quickly took off her suit and changed into her nightclothes. She replaced the bandage on her bite with a fresh clean one, and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

"Ready!" they yelled into the general direction of False when they had shoved their suitcase under the bed and had gathered the rose petals into a small pile on one of the nightstands. The blonde quickly reappeared in the bedroom, carefully carrying a tray with Cleo's order on it.

"Great choices," False commented as she placed the tray on the foot of the bed. "This looks amazing. Got a preference for a side?" She motioned at the bed.

"I prefer to be furthest from the windows," Cleo admitted. "Sunlight's not deadly, but it's not comfortable either."

"You got it!" False elegantly climbed into the far side of the bed, taking care not to kick their wine or snacks. Once Cleo had gotten in on the other side, False admitted: "I do feel bad for Xisuma and Keralis. This was supposed to be their date night, I guess."

"We'll have to make sure we enjoy it on their behalf then," Cleo replied without thinking. When they realised what they had just said, they stammered: "I mean, uh..." False smiled and handed her a glass of wine.

"I think I get what you mean. Cheers." As their glasses touched, False pressed a kiss to Cleo's cheek. "Out of all the Hermits I could be sharing a bed with right now, I'm happy it's you."

"Yeah..." Cleo fell quiet and quickly took a sip of their wine. False grabbed the remote control from her nightstand.

"Wanna watch some bad late-night TV?" Cleo breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sounds good to me." False smiled, and Cleo had to remind herself to breathe. As the noise of some random talkshow filled the room, False shifted closer to her so she could grab a piece of cheese. Their thighs touched, sending electricity down Cleo's spine. They tried to stay calm as False nestled herself against their side, her head resting against their chest. If she noticed how fast Cleo's heart was beating, she didn't say a thing.

"Glad it's you," False repeated, already beginning to sound sleepy.

"Me too," Cleo replied this time. "Me too."

[novankenn]

Reluctant Hero?

= Thirty = (Chapter List)

Nora and Cardin were a little impressed with the room, well more like the apartment the headmaster has assigned to them. The pair stood in the entryway, each holding a single bag, as they surveyed the layout.

Before them was a rather spacious living-dining room. To the right was a decent sized kitchenette. Just past the kitchenette was the open door to the bathroom, that from their view point looked to be fairly large, or at least a good size bigger than the ensuites in the dorms.

Glynda: (From behind the pair) We tried to accommodate Mr Arc's request, however we have no three bedroom units available. So this two bedroom is the best we can provide.

Nora: So why three doors?

Glynda: Two are bedrooms, one is a rather large storage closet.

Cardin and Nora share a look and nod.

Cardin/Nora: First come, first served.

Glynda: Obviously, we will deliver a third bed, as one of you will need to share a room...

Nora: Girl, so I'm automatically getting a solo room.

Cardin: You know we would have had to share a single room if we stayed in the student dorms, right?

Nora: That was then. This is now. I'm a girl... I get a solo room.

Cardin: Well, I'm not sharing with Jaune.

Nora: Why not? You're both guys, it shouldn't be an issue.

Cardin: It's not that.

Nora: Then what is it?

Cardin: The guy kind of creeps me out. Like, I'm not sure if he's on the verge of giving me a hug, or gutting me with his chainsaw.

Nora: Good point, though I bet you he's a real good hugger.

Cardin: I wouldn't take that bet.

Nora: How come?

Cardin: I agree with you. He definitely comes across as a guy good at hugging.

Nora: So you should share a room with him.

Cardin: No.

Nora: Why?

Cardin: I already gave you my reason!

Nora: Really? What was it then?

Cardin: He creeps me out.

Nora: Why would you say that about our Fearless Leader?

Cardin: Because he does. Granted, he seems like a good guy, but what, besides the fact he's good at kicking Deadite ass, do we know about him?

Nora: True. True.

Cardin: So I'm not sharing.

Nora: Well, I'm not either. Guess he gets the couch.

Cardin shakes his head and walks over and starts opening doors, revealing the two bedrooms and the rather large storage closet. Nora walks up beside him as looks inside.

Nora: What are you thinking?

Cardin: I'm pretty sure a bed will fit in here, easily.

Nora: I can see it.

Cardin: So this can be Jaune's room.

Nora: Jaune's room.

Cardin: (Looks at Professor Goodwitch who was just standing there this whole time rolling her eyes) Is there a chance we can get a bed delivered? One of the ones from the student dorms would probably work great.

Nora: Oh definitely.

/==/ One Hour Later /==/

Jaune had found his way to the new accommodations that he was able to wrangle out of the headmaster. He entered and was for the most part was impressed with the size and layout. It was then he noticed the handmade signs on the bedroom doors.

Jaune: Cute. Wonder when they found the time, or the supplies, to do that?

It was then that Jaune noticed each of the bedrooms only had a single name on them. His eyes narrowed, as he was definitely not in the mood for these types of juvenile antics. He was tired, and a little mentally exhausted from his long talk with Pyrrha. So he decided he'd deal with the issue in the morning.

Jaune: Guess it's the couch tonight. Wait? What the...?

As Jaune had turned to head for the couch, he saw a third homemade name plate. This one with his name on it. He was concerned, because Goodwitch had informed him that they had gotten assigned a two room unit. So he made his way over and opened the door.

Jaune: Oh, come on! This is a closet! You guys expect me to sleep in a closet?

Nora: (slightly muffled) It's a storage room!

Cardin: (also slightly muffled) First come, first served, Fearless Leader!

Jaune: (Tossing his basically empty bag on the bed.) This is bullshit.

[zipadeea]

Waiting on my copy of The Screaming Staircase to come in, so I’m just sitting here dwelling on the Lockwood & Co. TV show and what’s behind the forbidden door on the landing. 

Obvious answer is it’s something to do with his parents and the way they died. We know they’re dead, we know they died when Lockwood was young, and we know Lockwood won’t move from the house because it’s the last tie he has to his parents, so we can assume he had a relatively happy childhood and good memories with them. 

I expect the forbidden room is either a bedroom or some large storage room, because that’s where (the show heavily implies) Lockwood gets the necklace he gives to Lucy. The necklace Lockwood says used to belong to “someone special to him”. 

Two problems for the parent theory here: 1) why would Lockwood call his mom (or dad, dads can have necklaces, too) “someone special”? Lucy knows they’re dead already and she knows they lived in this house. If the necklace came from one of his parents, why wouldn’t Lockwood just tell Lucy that? 

2) If the room behind the forbidden door is a bedroom, I don’t think it’s the master bedroom. Because, in the first episode during Lucy’s tour of the house, Lockwood says Lucy can use the bathroom in the attic or share the one on the landing with George. Not with Lockwood and George. So, Lockwood’s bedroom most likely has an ensuite, which leads me to believe it’s the master bedroom. 

Another thing I noticed about the house is the number of bedrooms. We have two bedrooms in 35 Portland Row for sure (George’s and Lockwood’s). I predict the room behind the locked door is or can be used as a bedroom, because the house has been able to function without it available in the years since it’s been locked. So, three bedrooms, and Lucy’s room in the attic. Lucy’s room in the attic which Lockwood specifically told Lucy he used to sleep in when he was little. 

Why would Lockwood’s parents make him sleep in the attic as a child when there was at least one, and were possibly two, free bedrooms in the house? A kind uncle who liked to hunt was discussed during Lucy’s interview, so it’s possible he lived with the Lockwoods, or visited often enough that they kept a nice guest room for him. But that still leaves one room in the house that, if not already a bedroom, could function as one. Why would you send your young son to sleep in the attic is there’s an empty room in the house? 

Because, dear reader, there wasn’t an empty room in the house. 

The room belonged to Lockwood’s older sibling.  

An older sister probably, because of the necklace from “someone special” and, of course, Lockwood and George’s discussion about girls and baths in episode two. After George finds Lucy in the bath with her clothes on, Lockwood tells George “Girls are weird about baths,” or something like that. Why would he say that? Why is that what Lockwood chooses to add to the conversation? Could be about his mom, I guess, but if we believe the master bedroom has an ensuite, she and Lockwood never shared a bathroom. Plus, Lockwood said ‘girls’, not ‘women’. If Lockwood has never lived anywhere but Portland Row, what would he know about living with girls? About sharing bathrooms with girls? 

Unless, of course, he had an older sister. 

Anyway, I feel like I’m right, but I haven’t looked anything up yet. Meanwhile I’ll re-watch season 1, do my best to manifest season 2, and wait patiently for my books to come in. 

[thepropertylovers]

The House That Got Away

Yesterday we toured a house that we’ve had our eyes on for years. The only problem? It’s already sold.

It’s a decently-sized white clapboard house just down the road from ours that was probably built sometime in the 20’s. It has all the original character still intact with what appears to be very little updates made over the years (which happens to be our favorite because then we can make all the updates/changes we want). It has 10 ft ceilings and big, thick moulding all throughout, not to mention a ginormous back yard. In short: It was stunning.

PJ has approached the man who owns it for years asking if he’d be interested in selling, and every time he did, the man would always tell PJ no, he wasn’t going to sell it any time soon. Which is why it came as such a shock to us when we were driving down the street and saw a big sign that read “ESTATE SALE” in front of the house. What! It already sold?! When? To whom?

Not that we’re technically in the market to buy it, as we’re focusing all our attention on the farm at the moment, but still. It kind of weirdly stung. Regardless, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to finally see inside it (and see if they had any goodies to bring home).

We took the kids on over and walked around all the large rooms, and while we were taking the quick tour, I was imagining everything we could have done to it. Moved this door here to make a primary ensuite. Make this room the TV room while making this other room the formal living room. Expand the kitchen with an addition. Keep the original blue tile in the downstairs bathroom because it’s so charming.

So many possibilities!

I guess now we’ll have to wait and see what the new owners do to it.

[jojoblessed365]

JUST A LITTLE CRUISE LOVIN’- Sequel to ‘The Valleys of New Orleans and Midnight Train to Memphis’

Excerpt:

Denny:

“It’s not too late to turn back.” I say as we stare at the cruise ship. Jess looks at me. Even through his sunglasses, I can see his frail attempts to hide his discomfort. After all, we were going to be on shore for a week, with hundreds of people on board, sappy entertainment, no cell reception, stopping in destinations for less than a day. And the icing on the unsavoury cake? The morning call every 9 am- where I’m subjected to waking up to a cheery voice detailing the type of waters, temperature and other useless details. Or the probability of sea-sickness. I just don’t know which ones worse until I’ve experienced it.

I adjust my messenger back, and Jess toys with his duffle. He shrugs, “I mean it’s not like we’re stuck with something we’re avoiding, like a crush or Taylor.”

I giggle. At least, Jess was holding it in. For my sake. Because I’d rather do this with him over anybody else.

We climb onboard the cruise and check in. we’re given pass-cards complete with a picture on it and details of our suite type. A porter takes us to an elevator, one of six glossy ones, complete with transparent glass and ornate furnishing. I marvel at the deck room complete with armchairs and ballroom style floors as we’re whisked to the 11th floor. The porter directs us to our suite and opens the door.

I try but fail to hold back my gasp of pleasant shock. It’s like a small flat on its own with a small balcony and the ensuite bathroom tucked on the right. I immediately enter the balcony, and marvel at the pristine waters of the sea and the outdoor deck on the other side along with the pool.

Jess tips the porter and pulls in the bags. He sits on the bed and I ask him, “Well, thank God we got an upper-level suite.”

“I think key word would be lucky.”

An hour later, after having packed our luggage, we aim to eat something. After a little bit of navigating, we end up on the outer deck near the buffet. I go for the burger and fries and Jess grabs a little bit of the Italian from the live counters. We take a seat on the pool chairs and eat our lunch in silence. For a while, I’m taken aback at the sheer calmness of the atmosphere. It’s like I’m transported to the 70’s. I ask him, “You know... we don’t anyone here. We could just... stay in our rooms and you write while I... do something. We’ll be alright, don’t you think?”

Jess looks up and shrugs. “I guess.”

“You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. The worst would be being stuck here on this ship with Rory and Logan right now sucking face or something.”

I look softly at him. it’s clear that Rory really did a number on him. and then I see something. Or someone. I crane my neck and squint to take a closer look.

And I think I’m going to suffer a aneurysm.  

Cause Rory is here.

On this ship.

“Uh, Jess. Want to go take a walk? Get out of here?”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m trying to delay my death from jumping off this ship by a few hours.”

Jess shakes his head, confused. “What are you talking about?”

I decide to stall. Which is stupid.

“You know how you shouldn’t say Bloody Mary in front of a mirror 3 times? Or the Candyman? Or... uh-”

“Out with it Denny.”

“Rory’s on this ship.”

“WHAT???”

I’m officially dead.

And then I’m officially cremated when I notice who’s sitting opposite her. I can see the back of his head. But I’d recognize those shoulders anywhere. How could I forget that those were the only things that were anchoring me while I kissed him on a whim after the best blind date that I ever had?

It’s Jamie.

My Bid-a-Basket date.

I think we’re safe to say this is going to be a nightmare over 500 stretch of wide European sea.

-x-

Anyone excited???

Cause I am.

Dedicated to @sagestonefanfiction and @stellaluna33

[whatdudtheysay]

Context - You're on a boring 'date' with the duke of the north. But a certain someone keeps catching your eye...

Tw - slight nsfw but nothing major.

Note - this series will have switching povs to show inner thoughts of both main leads <3 - might include other important characters.

Credit - @cafekitsune

You sighed softly as you woke up in your large bed, stretching with a light moan.

Another day of pretending to be poised and demure. You got out of bed and stretched once more before heading over to the long and big rope bell in your room.

You shook it tiredly and only 0.5 seconds passed before five different maids entered, two carrying hot buckets of water and three empty handed.

They all curtsied in sync, smiling at you warmly.

"good morning, your highness."

"good morning." You greeted back.

The two with the water moved into your ensuite to prepare your bath while the others went to your huge closet, holding out different dresses until you decided to choose a simple light blue dress. They nodded, offering comments like "excellent choice" and "you'll look amazing in this dress, your highness."

But you've heard it all before. You were then ushered into the bathroom for a bath, the maids helping you undress before helping you into the warm water, their hands helping wash your hair.

It was nice of them to do but you thought it would stop when you were 16. However, your mother insisted.

Luckily, time passed quickly and you were out of the bath. luckily, after you 'kindly' told them to excuse you to dress yourself, they did.

After they left, you laid back on your bed, your towel slightly slipping off. You were dreading today. A date with a duke? He's probably been divorced 4 times and has 7 children.

You were dreading it. But it wasn't like you had a choice. You sat up quickly and pulled on some underwear, your stockings, then your dress and then your jewellery.

After a long thirty minutes of doing your hair and drowning yourself in rose perfume, you finally got up and headed downstairs.

There, you entered the dining room and saw your father at the head of the table, smoking a fat cigar and reading the royale newspaper as usual, your mother beside him, drinking some tea.

"good morning." You greeted before taking a seat opposite your mother.

"Morning, sweetness. Are you prepared?" Your father asked.

"Prepared?" You feigned ignorance, staring at the window as the maids served you breakfast.

"do not play dumb, y/n. It isn't befitting-"

"-of a Princess. I know, mother." You cut her off gently. "But do I have to go on this outing? I know you all want what's best for me but a duke?"

"you rejected 30 princes, 5 imperial knights and an earl. This is for your own good since you love being stubborn." Your dad sighed, turning the page of his paper. "I'm guessing you got that from your mother."

Your mother gave your father a glare before she refocused on her breakfast.

You wanted to argue further but you knew that they'd make the situation worse for you. You hated how your parents acted when it came to your life...

It was your only chance at living and yet you weren't in control. You were just a doll to them... And then you'd be a doll to your future husband. The cycle wouldn't end.

"Very well, then. I shall prepare." You grit out before getting up and leaving your breakfast untouched.

You were walking. You didn't know where but you were angry and you just needed to walk it off before you got yourself in more trouble.

You continued to mumble to yourself, ignoring the different palace helps who stopped to greet you. After almost five minutes, you looked up and realised you were in a deeper end of the palace.

Unsure, you glanced around. Despite living here since you were born, you'd never explored this much. You weren't allowed to. Funny.

You continued going deeper. At least if you got lost it would give you an excuse to hold off on the date with the duke. Eventually, you found a room at the end of the hall and pushed it open, revealing a large hall.

"woah." You audibly mumbled. It was so big. A bit smaller than the main... You guessed it was a spare....

Hesitantly, you stepped inside and noticed a lot of portraits around. So this was where your childhood ones went. One of you as a baby, a child, then the most recent was from your 18th, just a few months ago.

You were about to let your hand gently brush against the golden frame when-

"A beautiful portrait."

You gasped and turned around to see.... Him...

Lieutenant Fushiguro.

"Lieutenant- what're you doing here?" You asked. Did he follow you? You hadn't noticed... Or heard him.

"forgive me for starting you." He bowed. "The king wants me to guard your date with the Duke...I tried to find you but the maids said you stormed off in this direction."

Oh.... That made sense....

You somewhat calmed down and nodded. "I see. Sorry...I didn't mean to waste time..."

It was a lie. You did.

But you couldn't deny, the view was... Delectable. The view of him in that tight dark blue and cream royal guard attire... The brooches on his blazer, his hair that was slicked back yet somewhat messy...

It was hard to ignore that delicious shiver that kept tingling down your spine.

"It isn't a problem...besides, I'm sure you are...dreading the meeting?" Toji supposed.

You sighed in relief. It felt like he was the only one who wasn't lobotomized around here.

"Finally! Someone who isn't brain-dead. Uh, no offense." You huffed.

He chuckled deeply in a way that made molten heat pool in your lower stomach.

"I'm not sure a woman such as yourself should settle for anyone you find below your standard." Toji shrugged simply, taking a few steps between you, eating up the distance.

You found yourself nodding to his words almost eagerly. How did a stranger manage to see it and say exactly what your heart wanted while your parents believed the complete opposite?

"I'm glad someone understands." You mumbled, glancing back at your portrait.

"Well sometimes you need a change of perspective." He spoke calmly, his voice a lot closer than before.

You glanced over your shoulder, swallowing thickly when you noticed he was merely a step away from you.

Before either of you could speak up, the doors suddenly opened and your father entered. You glanced at toji, then your father, noticing the stare off they were currently having.

"Y/n. Down to the main hall. The duke is waiting for you." Was all your father said.

But he said it in that voice. The voice he used when you were two ticks away from trouble. So, you moved around Toji awkwardly and quickly left the hall, your father closing the door behind you. Curiously, you pressed your ear against the door, overhearing some muffled words but nothing coherent.

"my lady."

You almost screamed at the sudden voice, whirling around to see your lady's maid and friend, Nobara.

"Gosh! Nobara, I told you not to sneak up on me anymore!" You lightly chastised, moving to interlink your arms, hoping your father hadn't realised you'd been eavesdropping.

She laughed softly. "Sorry. But I was told you'd be going out today?"

"yes... Just got a while. I hope." You sighed, remembering your 'date.'

"in that case, should I tell the emperor you'll see him next week?" She asked.

You raised a brow. Satoru wanted to see you? But why?

"I guess so. I'll probably be tired after the outing." You nodded. Now you wished you didn't have to go.

Satoru was your childhood friend before he inherited the Gojo empire. You barely ever saw him because it was situated in the far north and snow was fun until you got frostbite.

But you had to face reality... Before you got yourself into more trouble.

As you walked ahead, you took one last glance at the hall. The bigger part of you hoped you hadn't gotten Toji in any trouble...

ㅤㅤㅤ⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

(TOJI'S POV)

Fuck, it was hot. He was in the carriage with you, staring out of the windows, alert as usual.

But he was also discreetly staring at you. The heat was no match for a royal either. You were lightly fanning yourself, a bead of sweat moving down your collarbone, settling between the deep line of your cleavage.

Fuck. He had already ensured your father biting his head off about being near you earlier and now he was staring at those pretty tits eyes of yours. You kept glancing out of the window and then to your lap. Your fidgeting was making him nervous at this time.

"You alright, princess?" He asked, causing you to look up quickly.

You huffed, fanning yourself more. "Of course I am! I'm just... Thinking about my wonderful future wedding with the duke."

Toji chuckled, causing her to shyly avoid his gaze.

"I'm sure you'll receive many blessings of wealth and fertility." Toji hummed, making you gag.

"Ew, Ew, Ew! Don't!" You huffed, becoming more worried.

Toji sighed slightly. He could tell you didn't want to be bound to some random man and pop out more babies for him. Besides, who knew what the duke would make of the kingdom when your future husband took over.

Sadly, the ride slowed to a stop and toji helped you out of the carriage. He glanced around the large estate. It was....clean, kept...nice. befitting of a royal.

A woman came out, short and she had blonde hair.

"Good morning, I hope the the ride wasn't too eventful." She smiled, mostly at you than Toji.

"Oh, it was smooth, thank you." You replied with a smile as you had been accustomed to.

She led you up the path, Toji tailing behind, ensuring to keep an eye on the surroundings just in case...

They finally got into the estate, moving into the parlour which was thankfully, a lot cooler than the summer heat outside.

But then you suddenly stopped. Toji was a lot taller so he looked over your head and noticed a man sat, waiting...staring deeply into you.

Short silky blonde hair, regal robes and two different brightly coloured eyes. He had a wry smirk upon his lips and an odd look in his eyes as you stared at each other.

Naoya...the duke of the northern region.

Tags ღ - @blobkvna , @byerno6 , @iseeyouuu , @iloveaustinelvisandmannymore , @aloserprobably , @tojislittleprincesss , @meforpr3sident , @someonejasjsj

A/n - by changing povs I mean the story will focus more on one person than another just to lyk <3

Please don't steal or copy my work. None of the art in my works are mine 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

[nvrcmplt]

“ you were always there when i needed you. let me repay the favor. “ elin to claude !

It was hard, the sensation he knew was building more now he could tell the high he was having worn away over the pass few hours in company. Energy was dwindling, his focus a little out of touch but he kept conversation going and drinking more water than wine for the last few minutes. The tipsiness wasn't making him feel good. Not in the sense of nausea or stomach ache but just mentally - emotionally - he felt open when he wanted to shut the door. Vulnerable was probably the word, his friends called it before. His medications were a little late this month, not that it wasn't impossible to chase them up, but Claude had felt a little better. Thought himself able to wait for a extra week or two before going to get them again but it was a little too late to think of that way.

He smiled and smiled and smiled, Elin was always someone that bought energy into his home and made him feel normal and warm, but even that could wane. She wasn't at all the problem, god's no, any time Claude would never-ever say it was the person he was with at the time's fault for his chemical imbalance in the head. Yes, they could be the wrong type of person to mingle with but it didn't mean they were the cause for his falls or dips. Never ever. So, the mask was put into place - they talked and talked. Watched movies and ate dinner together. A common hang out, invitation to just gossip and catch up on life, help Elin avoid the Hockey-player that's seen her asshole, etc etc.

The night was pretty late, early hours late, his dogs were all cute and warm in their dog beds sleeping away, and the TV was low with movie credits. Elin was half asleep like himself and they called it a night. That's where it stopped for a little while. Having Elin in the guest bedroom, warm and safely tucked into bed. Claude could go to his own room and hold his hands that shook with something he couldn't control. Inhaling and softly exhaling. A shower - a moment to relax under the spray.

His ensuite was pretty quiet, a bonus for his money here - and he took his time. A clean face, washed hair, warm to the bone. He redressed after drying himself off and sat on the edge of his bed. Staring at the window and into the darkness of nothing really out there. He didn't really notice that the night went on by and when he heard Elin get up for the bathroom in the earlier hours, he blinked as his door was opened and her head poked inside. A normal check up, he guessed? Though - it seemed to be the right timing as Claude felt himself stand up as if caught being naughty - when he hadn't even done anything.

"Are you okay?" He asked before she said anything to him, but it was evident that in the time Elin had slept - Claude hadn't even gotten into bed. His sheets and pillows were undisturbed. “ You were always there when I needed you. Let me repay the favour. “

Her concern was as clear as day - so when she came over without a thought more and grabbed his hands to speak in her blunt manner. He felt himself crumbling with a little misty eye before he nodded. "Just… medications." He started, tongue dry and his head spinning a bit but with her guidance again he was sat down on his bed and held in place to face her. To make his words slowly slip out his lips as he got himself into the right headspace. "Sorry - just, late medication delivery. I thought I'd be okay but it's… harder than I thought." Specially since he's taken it for the majority of his life.

Inhaling and leaning to un-stiffen his back he smiled with a weary blink. "Just a little fuzzy minded, I guess. Didn't even notice the sun rising... Sorry, it's nothing bad." It was a strangeness to his mind without the chemicals to aid it into the right places but he felt better. Getting it out, speaking about it with her. "Thanks for checking on me, Elin."

[xmint-conditionx]

⊹ lava cake ⊹ birthday sex | myg

✜ pairing: yoongi x reader; yoongi x fem!reader; dom!yoongi x brat!reader ✜ word count: 3.4K ✜ summary: your friend dragged you to this huge house birthday party for some guy you don’t even know, and she disappears with her boyfriend, leaving you alone in the crowd. while trying to find her, you lock eyes with a handsome stranger across the room who looks like he could use some company. ✜ warnings: 18+ only, light slapping, casual sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, sex w/ a stranger, unprotected sex (pls be safe y’all), rough dom, slight public sex?? (idk y’all are behind closed doors but at a party so?????), oral (f), slight degradation. ✜ a/n: hiya! bringing this gem back a day late for the best boy's birthday! wrote this for his birthday a year ago, and one day it will get the sequel it deserves. yoongi w mint hair is my inspiration for my name, so this holds a special place in my heart.

i really hope you like it! thanks, luvs, enjoy!

<3 minty ✧

The crunch of ice in your mouth from your now empty drink is a welcome distraction from the overall din of the loud party guests and even louder music. You scan the large open living room of the house again for your friend and her boyfriend, but they’re nowhere to be found. “Wait right here, we’ll be back in a minute” Micha had said as Taehyung took her over to another part of the house, presumably to meet with another friend of his. That was half an hour ago. You impatiently begin searching the room once more for any sign of Micha’s bright pink hair, furrowing your brows in frustration as you come up with nothing.

As your eyes are rapidly moving from face to face, your search is halted by a minty haired man who is staring directly at you from the other side of the room.

He’s nestled in by the foot of the staircase, back leaning against the railing, red solo cup in his hand. The ends of his hair caress his tiny ears, which are decorated with long and dangly silver earrings, alive in the colored lights of the party. By the time you’ve assessed the man in full and return to his eyes, his eyes are still locked on yours. Unwavering, like a challenge.

You hold his gaze almost threateningly, but he doesn’t flinch away from your heavy eyes. While maintaining eye contact, he gently sips out of the red solo cup before brazenly eyeing you up and down and raising one of his brows in response. After he finishes his sip, he again makes deliberate eye contact with you and runs his tongue over his bottom lip, collecting the drops of drink that was left there.

Your friend is nowhere to be found, so you might as well go and make a new one.

You break away from his lingering stare to fill your cup, and then you make your way through the crowd to the challenger on the other side of the room. You expect him to be looking at you when you return into his line of sight, but are shocked to discover the opposite.

Where his gaze was full of intention, it is now lackluster. Where it had been on you, it now seems to be looking at nothing at all. The empty space in the middle of the room. You walk up and say the only thing you can think of that will get a conversation going.

“Lame party, huh?” you say, taking a sip of your drink and leaning into his direction.

“Yeah,” he says, still looking out into the distance, “I’m not really enjoying it either.”

“I don’t really know anyone here. I’ll be honest with you; I don’t even know the birthday boy. My friend’s boyfriend is a friend of his or something and she dragged me along so she ‘wouldn’t have to go alone’ or whatever.”

“Why aren’t you with her, then? You’d probably be having more fun.” he says as he finishes another sip.

“If she hadn’t disappeared on me an hour ago, I would be! This place is huge and I don’t want to go wandering around some strange man’s house. You’d think with all the money he has he’d at least be able to have better taste,” you say as you point to a bookshelf by the fireplace. “I mean look at that lava lamp! The 80’s called and want their aesthetic back, right?”

The man next to you just shrugs, “I don’t know. Some people like them I guess.”

You move your pointer finger to another corner of the room next to the bar. “That piano too? It looks so beat up! It doesn’t make sense with the rest of the decor at all. I wonder if this guy is alright. His head can’t be right.” you say and the man next to you snickers a little. You turn to him and meet his gaze again. It’s playful and a little dark; it makes you want to continue. “He could literally just buy a much better looking piano.”

His expression darkens further to a playfully scrutinizing one. “You’re awfully bold, insulting the host while you’re still at his party. If I were you, I’d watch that pretty little mouth before it gets you into trouble.”

This is going to be good.

“Oh yeah? And what if I don’t?” you fire back, staring up at him through your lashes. “Doesn’t seem like anyone is trying to stop me.”

He lets out a drawn out sigh and scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah, you’re right. And what a shame that is. I’ve got about a million ideas about what you could be doing instead of running that mouth. More… productive things.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Who says I’d actually take you up on your little ideas, hmm?” you tease.

His eyes darken further, and you know you’ve got him.

“Well, it would be your loss,” he says.

You dramatically roll your eyes for maximum sass, “Yeah right, I’m sure.”

“Is that a challenge, little miss?” he asks, his gaze narrowing and his body closing in on you, trapping you against the railing of the staircase. You begin to feel like prey, a sensation that only dampens your panties further. At this close distance, you can just begin to smell his aftershave. His free hand brushes up your exposed thigh and starts to slowly ascend up past the hem of your short skirt. Your heart begins to pound and your legs start to tingle as you hesitantly meet his gaze again. He leans in closer.

“Aww, cat got your tongue?” he sings in your ear, making you bite your lip. You can feel the heat flushing your cheeks. He can likely feel the warmth that is spreading to other places, because his hand stops just outside of the cloth of your underwear.

“Mmm, let’s see if you can stay this quiet when my tongue is in your slit. Now, be a good girl and follow me.” he says, suddenly backing off and walking up the stairs. You wince slightly at the lack of warmth, but don’t hesitate to grab his hand as he leads you up.

He brings you to a set of double doors to the immediate right of the top of the stairs. The light is already on and you can see that the ensuite bathroom’s lights are on as well. He turns back to shut both of the doors and you hear the faint click of the lock.

“Is this the master?” you ask, taking in the details of the room. “I don’t think the birthday boy will want people fucking in his bedroom.”

He’s back on you in an instant, arm around your waist, pulling you up against his chest. “I guess you had better keep quiet then.”

Your lips are suddenly being pressed against his. He immediately deepens the kiss, receiving your tongue into his mouth with sloppy enthusiasm. He starts backing you up towards the side of the bed. Once you get there, you’re shoved down onto the mattress, bouncing slightly as you recover from his kiss. You watch dumbly as he deftly strips off his leather jacket and yanks off his plain t-shirt. Once his stomach is exposed, you find your mouth open and watering at the sight of the little happy trail under his abdominal muscles. You don’t have time to process any of it though, because in another instant he’s on top of you, straddling your hips.

He hooks his thumb into your gawking mouth, holding it open and says, “I’m going to rip you to shreds, little girl. If it becomes too much, say genius. Do you understand me?”

You nod sheepishly and swallow hard.

“Let’s hear you say it then.” he demands, removing his thumb from your mouth.

“Genius?” you say in almost a whisper and he begins to grin.

“Good girl. Remember, stay quiet. We wouldn’t want to disturb the party,” he says, removing his weight from on top of you while shifting you up the bed so that he can situate your hips under his face. He doesn’t bother taking off your skirt; he just forces the fabric up, exposing your already soaked panties.

“All this for me? I haven’t even touched you yet,” he teases.

You huff in frustration. “Yeah, you should probably get to that already.”

He responds with a smart little smack on your still covered clit. You clench and moan at the sensation, looking down at him with your best puppy dog eyes. He is unimpressed.

“What did I say about watching your mouth, brat?” he says as he hovers right over your heat, just close enough that you can feel his breath when he speaks.

“I’m sorry,” you groan out as your legs begin wiggling in hopes of getting his lips to make contact.

“That’s better,” he says, teasing your entrance outside of your panties with his thumb, sending sparks up your spine. “I just don’t know if you want it badly enough, princess.”

“Ugh,” you scoff, “I don’t know what else I can do! Pleeeeease?”

“Please, what?” he asks with a smirk, sending you a look that is filled with fire. “What is it that you want me to do?”

“Please taste me,” you beg with fistfulls of the comforter, and in that instant, he rips off your panties and is busy sucking on your clit. You let out a silent scream at the new sensation, hands pulling even harder on the blanket. He licks down your slit and then into it, sending another wave of pleasure through you. You’re already so wound up that you’re close to the brink, almost teetering over the edge when you grab his hair and start to buck your hips into his mouth, chasing your release.

He pulls away, much to your distaste, earning a whimper from you.

“Whyyyyy did you stooooppppp?” you whine, and he shoots you another dark look right before he slaps your clit again, this time much harder. You let out a yipe as you involuntarily clench around nothing. “I was about to come…” you say in the most adorable voice you can muster, poking out your bottom lip for full effect.

“Who says you get to come?” the man replies, your slick coating his lips. He plunges two fingers into you and starts a slow, teasing rhythm.

“Please, move faster, I–” your voice is cut off when he starts flicking his tongue on your clit, bringing you dangerously close. You know better than to tell on yourself, and you clench in anticipation of your orgasm… but he quickly stops everything and leaves you to come back down slowly, agonizingly.

You’re desperate and dizzy with desire, on the verge of tears with how badly you want to come. He’s kissing your inner thighs, leaving little marks here and there where he sucks and bites. It’s like he’s comforting you through the torture, by somehow making it worse.

“Ple– Please just let me come. I’ve tried to be good,” you plead, consumed with want.

He stops his little kisses and looks up at you. He says, “One more, you can do one more. I know you can. Then I’ll give you what you want. I think you might have learned your lesson.”

He takes the fingers that were just inside of you and puts them in his mouth, drinking up every bit of your wetness that he can. There’s no resistance when he reinserts them. He sets a menacing pace, curling up his fingers to hit that sweet spot, his lips fixed on your clit and his clouded gaze fixed on you. Before long, your release starts to build again, and you try to hold it back as best as you can. He comes off your clit with a wet popping sound and says, “Not yet. Don’t you dare come,” his fingers still pushing you ever closer.

His gravelly command makes you clench and that does it. You’re rocketing through your high and he fingerfucks you all the way through it. He pulls his fingers out and gets off the bed, leaving you to come down from your climax with closed eyes and labored breath.

Before you’ve fully recovered, you’re suddenly being hoisted up. He’s got your back up against the headboard, that much you can tell. When you open your eyes, you can’t believe what’s in front of you.

The mint haired man’s lips are mere inches away from yours, and he has pinned your arms down at your sides. You’re straddling his lap, which is now only covered by a pair of black boxer briefs that aren’t doing much to hide his erection. The outline of his dick with it’s tiny wet spot at the head makes you swallow, hard.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, I told you not to come, princess,” he teases. “It seems you need a different approach to learning your lesson. Since you wanted to come so bad, you’re not leaving this room until you’ve done it three more times.”

Your mouth hangs open; your eyebrows shoot up. You don’t even know if that’ll be possible.

“But this time,” he says lowly in your ear, “you’re going to come on my cock.”

He takes your hands and puts them on his waistband, indicating for you to remove them. As you do and his cock springs free, you can’t help but to lick your lips at how utterly delicious it looks. If he didn’t have other plans, you would have gladly taken it in your mouth that instant.

He takes his member in his own hand and teases your entrance with the head, mixing his precum with your leftover wetness from before. Just that touch has you ready to go again. You take matters into your own hands, literally, by taking his shaft and lining him up with you. As you sink down onto his cock, his breath hitches and you’re glad that you’re not the only one who is being tortured tonight.

His hands are tight on your hips, your skirt having rode all the way up a long time ago. His eyebrows are knitted together in concentration, and before he allows you to start, you see his eyes dart to your cleavage and back up.

“Take off your shirt for me,” he says.

“Why should I?” you snark back.

He quickly pulls out and thrusts all the way up into you, filling you completely up, sending a cry past your lips that was likely too loud. You’re suddenly more keenly aware of the ongoing party right outside those doors. You comply with his request, and he seems pleased that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your blouse.

“Number one,” he says and unleashes a cruel pace. The lewd sounds of your bodies slapping together only heighten your arousal, and you’re not surprised when you get close to your next orgasm. Sensing this, he grabs your jaw in his hand and directs your gaze to meet his.

“I’m– I’m gonna–”

“Come for me, brat.”

Your second one of the evening shoots fireworks all throughout your body and you clench all over, relishing in being able to fully ride it out. You can’t hold all of your noise in this time, but neither of you seem to mind. As you come down from this one, you notice that he hasn’t slowed his pace at all. What was once the most pleasurable thing has now crossed over into being a little too much, but in a good way. Your sensitivity was almost painful, but this new sensation had enraptured you. You were ready to try for another.

There’s a banging at the door, and you both freeze. A voice comes through the other side.

“Yoongi, was that you in there? We’re about to light your cake. Come out so we can sing to you!” the voice says over the din.

“Give me 5 more minutes, Namjoon-ah! I’m in the middle of something,” the man, apparently named Yoongi, apparently the birthday boy, apparently the one who you’ve been insulting all night, yells back.

You stare up at him in shock, and try to figure out what to say to apologize. He wants none of it, because he covers your mouth with his hand and flips you down onto the mattress. He resumes his unrelenting pace this time with more force behind his thrusts, all while his hand is fast against your mouth.

“That lava lamp,” Yoongi said, “that was the first thing my mother bought when she got her first apartment. She passed it down to me when I got mine.”

You’re moaning against his hand, the embarrassment you feel fueling your arousal even more. He really was out to punish you.

“Number two.”

He grabs your hip with his free hand and digs his fingers into you so firmly, you’ll know there will be bruises there the next day. Yoongi is glistening with sweat, his eyes staring straight through you. All it takes to send you over the edge again is for a smart nip on your nipple.

You scream out into his hand, thankful you can at least be a little more vocal. He still has kept up his pace, and as you come down, it starts to become too much. You’re so wet and sensitive that it’s borderline unbearable. You start to tear up at the feeling, and he removes his hand from your mouth. Without stopping, he leans into your ear and tells you how beautiful you look taking his cock. He tells you how good you’ve been for him, and how he loves the way you taste. He tells you about how he knew he had to have you when he saw you across the room, looking like sin in that short skirt and revealing top. He says he knows you can take one more, because after all, it’s his birthday.

“This time, I want to hear you say my name,” Yoongi says sweetly before taking his thumb and pressing it against your overly sensitive bud. You cry out and then stop yourself, afraid of who can hear.

“Don’t hold back on me; be as loud as you need to,” he says, “this is my fucking house.”

You begin to let yourself whine out, the overstimulation reaching a breaking point. Your mascara is definitely a mess, but the way he was looking at you made you not care.

“Number three. Last one. You can do it.”

He increases the pressure on your clit and deepens his thrusts. He takes his hand from your hip and traces your bottom lip with the thumb before he plants a kiss. The kiss deepens and you allow him to lightly graze his tongue over yours, which he follows up with a little bite on your lower lip. You’re groaning up into him, feeling your next release sneak up. He locks eyes with you, and you can tell he’s holding himself back from his own release.

“Come, beautiful. So I can fill you up.”

At that, the coil snaps and you’re sent reeling into easily the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. As his name spills from your lips, he too meets his own end and you both ride out your climaxes together.

_____________

After you’ve cleaned yourself up a little in the ensuite, you deem it safe to return back downstairs. It’s been long enough that you’ve just heard them sing, so you’ll likely go unnoticed with all eyes on Yoongi as he blows out his candles. You walk down the stairs towards the crowd of people surrounding the birthday boy and his giant chocolate cake. He’s smiling and hugging some of his friends who are encouraging him to cut it open. Once he does, chocolate sauce oozes out and everyone cheers. It’s a lava cake.

He laughs and hugs one of his tall friends wearing an apron, whose laugh sounds like windshield wipers. Yoongi scans the crowd and meets your gaze. He scoops up a bit of chocolate sauce on the two fingers that had been inside you only moments ago and smirks at you as he licks them clean.

Why do you feel like he isn’t done with you yet?

[christ0pher-evans]

Healed Heart

Final Part of the Shattered Heart Mini-Series

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: 18+ Minor Smut / Angst / Cheating / Arguing / Mentions of Divorce / Swearing Word Count: 2.9k A/N: So here is the final part of my mini-series. I honestly cannot thank you so much for the support on this, it means a lot to me and I love you guys for it!!! Please let me know what you think. I hope you’re happy with the ending because it took me a really long time to decide how I could finish off this story with justice. Thank you again, truly😘 Please reblog and like🖤

Part One: Shattered Heart Part Two: Troubled Heart Part Three: Bewildered Heart

 ♡

Three tortuous days had passed since you had last seen or spoke to Chris, three days since you kicked him out your home. You’d had nightmares about being in a loveless and hateful marriage, steamy dreams about your recent rendezvous and nights where you just felt so alone that you had cried yourself to sleep. It was safe to say that the past three days had been exhausting. 

Although fucking Chris in the kitchen during a harrowing argument probably wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done, it led to some realisations about how you wanted to proceed with your marriage. You definitely didn’t regret anything you said, or did with Chris that day and that was what you found important amongst the disaster. Not regretting your decisions meant that you knew you wanted to move forward in your marriage, and not look backwards; something you would consider a big first step in repairing your marriage. You knew you couldn’t forget what happened and would have to address it before moving forward but you knew you had the desire to push through the hard times. 

You’d called Chris that morning and told him that you wanted him to come home, not that he could or should but that you wanted him at home with you. Emotionally, it felt like the right decision, because at the end of the day he was your husband and you missed him. Practically, it is his home as well and it was the only place you could both be to sort out your marriage with privacy. You didn’t want to be surrounded by the media or by prying eyes. Hell, you didn’t even want the opinion of family or friends, this was between you and Chris only. 

As you tidied up the house a bit and thought about the moment Chris would walk through the door, it was clear to you that no matter how angry or hurt you were, Chris was your endgame. You had played all the variables over and over in your head loads of times, societal rights and wrongs about cheating when you realised, fuck society. You would never leave your husband over this, and that was okay. This was your story and who cared what anyone else thought, because you didn’t want to give up. You owe it to yourself, to your marriage, to try and fix everything before throwing it away. 

For the first few days, Chris slept in the spare room and you danced around each other, trying to find your new normal whilst you navigated the mess that was your marriage. 

Once the first week passed, Chris continued to sleep in the spare room and you finally plucked up the courage to address the problem that had been plaguing your marriage for weeks, months if you consider back to when the problem initially started. 

The day you decided to bring it up, you had finished work early and Chris was already at home when you arrived back around 3pm. 

Walking through the house, you finally found Chris in the home office. 

“I thought you were filming today?” Chris looked up at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh hi sweetheart. I didn’t hear you come in? Um, yeah I was but, uh.. she turned up to re-film some scenes so I came home.” 

You winced at the thought of her and Chris together but was quickly calmed by the effort Chris had made to avoid her. 

Clearing your throat, you found the courage to reply. 

“Oh, er, did you not have to keep filming?” Leaning against the door frame, you settled in for a longer conversation. 

“It wasn’t anything that I can’t just do another day when she isn’t there. I’ve got some scripts to read over anyway so it’s fine.” 

You sighed. This seemed like an appropriate time to bring up the unspoken topic so you could start moving forward but your anxiety felt crippling in that very moment, you didn’t know if you could face it. 

“Sweetheart..” Chris whispered, “Y/N, sit down, please..” 

You moved to sit down on the small sofa by the window, tucking your feet up and under yourself. Chris moved to join you, sitting fairly close but not touching you as you hadn’t crossed that boundary since he came home. 

“Look baby, I’ve been home a week now and we’ve just walked around this house like we are two strangers. I need you to talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking because you’re the one that told me you wanted me to come home?”

You looked up from your lap and straight into Chris’s eyes, “You do feel like a stranger to me.”

You heard his voice hitch in his throat, clearly caught off guard by your blunt answer. 

“I’m still me, sweetheart. I’m the same person you met seven years ago and I’m the same person you married four years ago. Please don’t think I’ve changed.” 

A lone tear falls straight from your eye, as you whimper, “I miss him.” 

It takes Chris no longer than a second to pull you into his lap, all boundaries obliterated, as he hugs you like his life depends on it. As you cry all you can hear is Chris repeatedly whispering, ‘I’m here. I’m still me. I love you.’ 

You shudder at the softened and sweet contact, something you hadn’t felt for weeks but you embraced it, leaning further into Chris’s chest for comfort. 

Once you had basked in the feeling for a bit longer, shutting the world and your problems out, you knew you had to move away. It would have been unfair to give Chris mixed signals as your marriage was still clearly on the rocks. 

Sitting back up on the sofa, you composed yourself. 

“I know you are still you Chris, but you’ve changed to me now. This you..”, you sigh before continuing, “..you’re tainted and untrustworthy, you’re the man that cheated on me, you’re not my husband. I need to get to know you again, and I need to learn to love our marriage again, and learn to trust you again. It’s going to take time.” 

“B-but you want to try?”

“Of course I want to try. Endgame right? That hasn’t changed for me but other things have to change, we cannot continue like this otherwise if something else were to happen, I don’t think we would survive it.” 

“I am infinitely yours sweetheart. Forever.” You watch Chris smile sweetly. 

Feeling slightly more confident and feeling like Chris has really been listening to you, you knew it was time to talk about her. 

“Okay, well whilst we are here, I think we should talk about her. It’s the biggest hurdle for me, and I can’t move past it. I just can’t deal with you seeing her right now, not whilst I’m learning to trust you again. I’ll never trust her so I need to 100% be able to trust you again.” 

Grabbing hold of your hand, Chris nods in understanding.

“That is completely fine sweetheart. For now, how about I just work my schedule around when she isn’t there and wait until you are comfortable before I finish filming my scenes with her? I don’t care if it postpones the film, or they replace me, you are more important to me than any film and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you!” 

You nod feebly, shocked and relieved with the instant commitment Chris was happy to make to save your marriage and earn your trust back. 

An awkward silence falls over the room at the monumental conversation you just had. Needing a moment to yourself, you decide to make a quick exit. 

‘Um, I think I’ll go and grab a shower before dinner.” Quickly leaving, you rush to your ensuite. 

The shower provided a solace to digest what just happened, a few tears falling as you feel overwhelmed. But you left the bathroom with a renewed sense of hope. 

It was another week of tough conversations and private marriage counselling before you felt you had reached another milestone in fixing your marriage. 

You were in the ensuite of your bedroom when Chris came in to say goodnight. He was merely wearing a pair of pyjamas bottoms that amusingly you were wearing the matching top of. 

He chuckled as he leant against the wall, “I was looking for that top.” 

You giggled lightly and blushed, using all your self control to not drool over seeing Chris topless. Unfortunately, you had never been good at hiding any of your emotions from Chris and you saw him smirk slightly at your flustered state. 

“Okay, well, I just came to say goodnight, so uh- night I guess..” 

You mumbled a goodnight back as Chris turned to walk out the room. A rush of affection from the interaction washed over you causing you to shout back towards Chris to catch his attention. 

“Um, stay..” 

You saw the startled look on his face as the words left your lips. 

“Stay with me tonight..”, you repeated as if you were confirming your own words. 

“Yeah, course I’ll stay, if that’s what you want?”, he shuffled back towards you. 

“It is what I want.” 

You smiled at him sweetly before you brushed past him and moved towards the bed, leaving him a bit stunned in the bathroom. 

Weeks passed with no problems. You and Chris had gone back to sleeping in the same bed and you often woke up snuggled together. At first, you’d wake and quickly move away from him however, slowly, you became comfortable with it and you were finally starting to feel at peace in his arms. 

You had woken up early this specific Monday morning as it was Chris’s first day back filming with her. You felt sick to the stomach at the thought of him seeing her again and had slept terribly. You knew this day would come and thought you would be, at least slightly prepared, but as the day dawned, you were scared. Nerves caged around your heart as your mind could only replay the moment Chris told you that he had kissed another woman.

Chris had to go back to work, you understood that. He had already put it off for a while and sacrificed enough of his job to try and reconcile your marriage. You almost felt obliged to let him go back to work, who were you to hold your husband back from his job? 

You were sitting in the kitchen, slowly nursing a very strong coffee when Chris came down, ready for his day. You glanced up at him briefly, barely acknowledging his words to you. 

“Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay? You’re up really early?” 

Glancing at the clock reading 7:30am, you shrugged and mumbled, “Woke up at 5:30am.”

You stared in the abyss, thoughts whirring through your mind. Thinking about being frightened to death about the thought that your marriage wasn’t even halfway back to where it should be. Knowing that Chris would see her today, spend all his time with her whilst you were waiting back at home for him. It felt like some sick and twisted de ja vu. 

It had been almost two months since you’d last been with Chris in any form of intimacy, almost four months since you were truly a happily married couple and now he was going to see her again, were you really debating that history would repeat itself? 

“Baby, will you talk to me? I can see something is on your mind”, Chris gently rests his hand over yours, bringing you out your nightmarish daydream. 

Looking up at Chris, taking in all his handsome features, you thought, how could anyone ever resist him. The thought panicked you even more.  

Learning from previous mistakes, you knew it was best to communicate to him how you were feeling. 

“I’m scared you’re going to see her again today and history could just repeat itself. Nothing is fixed yet Chris, and it feels like we are already going backwards.”

Just when you thought that being honest and communicating with Chris was the best option, it backfired in your face. Chris scoffed, a look of disgust on his face. 

“Huh, you’re not kidding?” Watching him run his hand through his hair, he turns away and slams his coffee mug down on the side. You jump at the aggressive action. 

“You really think I’d do that again? You really think that little of me? Have you not seen all the work I’ve put into this fucking marriage the past couple of months?”, he shrugs and turns back to you, “What else do you want from me Y/N?” 

You wince at his spiteful words. 

“I know you’ve put a lot into this marriage Chris, so have I! We’ve been doing really well, but can you really blame me for having doubts on your first day back with her? I thought you’d understand!” 

“No, I don’t blame you, but I thought you’d trust me more that this by now.” 

You chew on your lip nervously as you both stare at one another, terrified of the silence. 

“I’ve got to go to work Y/N, see you later.” You hear Chris huff before he walks straight out the house, leaving you sitting dumbfounded and anxious at your kitchen table. 

Trying to do any work from home was useless as you just felt panicked and couldn’t stop thinking about how Chris’s day was going. You hadn’t heard from him since this morning at it was now 6pm. 

After developing a painful stress headache, you decide to lay down in bed. Believing you can block the world out and briefly pretend that nothing is wrong in your marriage, you shut your eyes momentarily. 

FLASHBACK. 

Waking up so softly, you barely blink your eyes open as you feel tender kisses dancing their way up your back, following the line of your spine. You flutter your eyes open carefully, aware of the vibrant sunlight gracing your face as you try to focus your eyes, gradually making out the floor length curtains gently blowing through the breeze from your open balcony doors. You can hear the soft crashes of the waves and can see the soft, baby blue sky from your place on the bed as you stretch out all your limbs from an energetic night. You let yourself surrender to the feeling of Chris’s lips grazing against your bare body.

As he gradually makes his way up to your neck and cheek, you hum in utter happiness and contentment as he places one final kiss on your cheek as he leans over your body. You can feel every line and shape of his naked form as it presses up against you. You think about how you’ve never felt so happy and loved in this moment, knowing that this is exactly how you’ll get to feel for the rest of your life. 

“Good morning Mrs. Evans”, Chris roughly whispers, his voice hoarse from minimal sleep. He nibbles on your ear teasingly before grinding his core over your ass. You whimper at the feeling his movements evoke from you. 

“Mhm, I like how that sounds”, you mumble before smiling happily. The use of that name giving you butterflies. The one that now belongs to you, the name that now proves you belong to each other forever.

END OF FLASHBACK.

You wake with a start as you hear the front door slam slightly. You sit up too quickly, as you feel light-headed and your vision blurs slightly. You breath deeply, gaining your bearings before looking at the bedside clock. 7:30pm; you had slept right through dinner. 

Not that it mattered because you would have been eating alone anyway, you thought. 

Your body adjusts to being awake, your stomach fluttering slightly at the memories and feelings that the dream provoked. Momentarily caught in a fever dream. 

Back in reality, you brain registers that there was a slam at the door. Quickly, you get up and rush downstairs to see what is happening. 

As you halt at the bottom of the stairs and look out into the open plan room, you see Chris standing by the breakfast bar. The very same breakfast bar that holds so many recent heartbreaking conversations. But this time, it doesn’t bring you sadness. 

There Chris stands, holding takeout food in one hand and in the other, your favourite donuts. Behind him, on the wall, hangs the framed photo from your wedding day. Your matching smiles beaming on both your faces, almost as if they are lighting up the room.

You look back at him, standing here in your house. Bringing home dinner to you. Coming home to you. 

Your breath catches in your throat, “It’s you Chris, it’s always going to be you.”

You watch him place down the food on the side, before he begins striding towards you. Stuck in your spot, you can’t do anything but smile at your husband as he reaches you. 

“Forever yours”, you whisper before Chris’s lips crash onto yours for the first time in months. Your lips work together as your hands grip as his waist and his grasp your neck and face so you can’t move away. So you can only feel Chris, so you can truly remember the raw intimacy and passion between you. 

As your lips melt together, it feels as monumental as the moment he kissed you as you became his wife. It feels as if your story is beginning again; with a fresh start and a new-found hope for your marriage. 

 ♡

Forever Tags: @itsscottiesstark @patzammit @partypoison00 @cynic-spirit @n3ssm0nique @sohoseb @madbaddic7ed @moonlacebeam @ilovetheeagles  @beautifulrose0809 @lovelyladymayyy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mysticapples17 @whxre4cevans @firoozehmoon @spookyparadisesheep @mytbel0st @thatonelatina @snowy992 [Please drop me a message if you’d like to become part of the taglist for this series or any of my work]

[vvienne]

CHENGXUAN FIC RECS

you gave a kick, I gave a slap by sysrae

In retrospect, it was so much easier to hate Jin Zixuan when Yanli was into him, because all the anger he makes Jiang Cheng feel just by existing was automatically justified.

I would let you hold my heart in your hands by unnecessary

Jiang Cheng meets Jin Zixuan when he walks into the BDSM club on a Friday night.

“Meet” isn’t exactly right. He looks a lot like Yanli’s ex-husband, but Jiang Cheng hasn’t seen him in over a year. There’s no way. Right?

Keep making trouble (till you find what you love) by silveryogis

As Jiang Cheng paces, as Jin Zixuan stands under his awning and looks murderous, a stray amount of both Yunmeng and Lanling disciples hover uncertainly somewhere between the two of them. Everyone else has scattered by now, run back to their sects—but Jiang Cheng can’t do that. He has to get Wei Wuxian out of Xuanwu cave before anything else.

It doesn’t help that Jin Zixuan hasn’t fucked off by now.

It starts when Jin Zixuan takes him by the arm and drags him out the water. With Wei Wuxian left trapped, Jiang Cheng is desperate to find a way to rescue him—and he has nothing, not a phone, not a weapon, nothing except Jin Zixuan and an offer of help that he doesn’t understand. But he hates Jin Zixuan. And Jin Zixuan hates him. He thinks. He’s pretty sure.

No, actually. He doesn’t know any of that at all.

Within Reach by dancinbutterfly, nev_longbottom

In which Jin Zixuan mistakes his betrothed, Jiang Cheng, for a courtesan. This somehow solves and complicates all their problems.

can't really guess what you want by zandalorian

Jiang Fengmian and Jin Guangshan agree that the betrothal between Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan may be a bad idea, but they’re reluctant to cut it off completely (and risk angering their wives). Jin Guangshan suggests his son marry Jiang Fengmian’s other child (no, not that other one). Unconventional, but not unheard of. Jiang Cheng is not at all sure how he feels about the proposed change.

shut my eyes and count to ten by chamomilepeach

Later, in their suite, Mianmian says, "You like men. Boys. Not women."

"Well," says Jin Zixuan, unconvincingly, "You can't just say that. I like women. Girls. Of course I do."

"The same way I like girls?"

Jin Zixuan goes to Cloud Recesses. So do Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang, and Jiang Wanyin.

getting away with it by silveryogis

Jiang Cheng is just trying to hook up with Jin Zixuan when Wei Wuxian unexpectedly comes back to the dorm—and Zixuan is nothing if not incorrigible (even if he has been unceremoniously stuffed under the blankets on Jiang Cheng's bed).

when you crave someone (to be there at dawn) by Hell_Serpent

Wei Wuxian must have sighed in relief with the way the audio crackled, so hopefully this wasn't too bad.

"Jiang Cheng's experiencing a sub drop."

"A what now?" Jin Zixuan blanked.

After a session gone wrong, Jiang Cheng came back to his shared condo with Jin Zixuan (his politically matched fiance) having a severe drop.

With his siblings out of town, Jin Zixuan's the only one able to help him get through it. Except for the fact that he's never done aftercare before.

Somehow, things work out in the end.

WWMMD? (What Would Mianmian Do?) by 99_9

Jiang Cheng has a bad scene. Jin Zixuan has a gay awakening.

“Let’s go,” Jin Zixuan said, and for some reason, steered Jiang Cheng into his own bedroom rather than Jiang Cheng’s. Was this what Mianmian would do? he wondered, as he half-carried Jiang Cheng to the ensuite and turned the shower on. She’d probably want Jiang Cheng to be comfortable, and Jin Zixuan’s bathroom was bigger and more luxurious and featured more gold trim and was therefore better. The honour of Jin Zixuan’s inner Mianmian was satisfied.