#i think race knows how much weight spot places on the phrase 'i love you' and loves getting to give it to him so often

[loving-jack-kelly]

i think. for spot being in love is the biggest and most unexpected thing in the world to him he didn't expect it he doesn't quite believe it's real he can't get over it. and for race it's another tuesday. and this means that race says I love you first because it's not hard for him and race says it more often because it's not hard for him and race says it more casually because it's not hard for him but spot says it and feels it from his head to his toes and there are not three words in the English language that mean more to him than "I love you" to say. or to hear.

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

Who knew brooms could be so useful part 2

Is this who we are? Is this what we represent? I swear I don‘t have a broom kink

Have fun I guess? *forced smile*

Part one

Warnings: 18+, Sexual content with a broom

---

You stared at him, mouth opening and closing for a few times before you found your words.

„You want to...fuck me with your broom...because it brought you good luck in the last game?“

James nodded, face dead serious.

You stared again. What?

„I don‘t know how you did it, but I swear, after you came on my broom, I scored points after points. I always knew that you are my lucky charm.“

You kept staring, thoughts racing all over the place. James wants to fuck you with his broom and make you cum all over it, so he can win the upcoming quidditch game against Slytherin.

He leaned in closer, hand grasping your chin to tilt your head up and he had a hard look on his face.

„You want me to win, right poppet?“

You furrowed your brows, offended that he would imply otherwise, „Of course, James!“

He brushed his thumb over your lips, finger sliding into your mouth to play with your tongue.

„Then let me fuck you with it. But only grinding on it isn‘t enough this time sweetheart, you need to come with it inside of you. Want your cum all over it, you hear me?“

Oh my god.

„Merlin, James, how do you get those ideas?“

„S‘not difficult. I love you and I love Quidditch. Will you do it?“

You bit your lip. „Meet me by the lake at sundown, don‘t be late or I‘ll chicken out!“, you warned him.

He smirked at you, obviously pleased to get his way and pressed a hot kiss on your lips. Spoilt.

---

You were already sitting by the lake, waiting for your boyfriend when you heard the swooping sound of a broom landing on the ground and turned around, just to be kissed hard by James. He was needy, groping your ass and thighs, pulling you close to breathe you in. He wanted to get lost in the taste of your lips, the smell of your hair and feeling of your soft legs in his callous hands. He was overwhelmed by his desperation for you and there was only one way he knew how to show his lust. By fucking you senseless. 

"You're my dirty cocksucking little whore. Repeat it." 

You whine loudly. “I’m your dirty cocksucking little whore.”

James let out a low groan. “Mmm, the things I’m gonna make you do. Take off your clothes and touch yourself, slut.”

Immediately you took off your clothes sitting down on James jacket, that he placed on the ground and spread your legs. Your pussy is already wet, lips sticking together and your clit swollen. James took your hand to suck on your fingers and spit on your open palm before he leaned against a tree and watched you closely. 

“Fuck your fingers and make yourself cum.” James wanted you to cum as much as possible, before he fucked you with his broom, so you could squirt all over the object. 

One hand rubbed at your clit, the other one gently playing with your slit as you slid in one finger at a time. You kept your eyes on yourself, to emberassed to look at him. He noticed, of course he would, and crouched infront of your open legs to give you a mean glare. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to look at me when you play with yourself..”

“M’sorry Jamie, but it doesn’t feel the same. S’not good, I want your fingers instead, please!”

"Shut up. I don't care what you want. You're here to do what I want."

You whimpered at his condesending tone and fucked your tight pussy with your fingers, always on the brink of pleasure but never quite reaching your spot. The spot that James adores and is the only one capable to finding it. 

“Stupid girl, can’t even fuck yourself right. You greedy thing got used to the pleasure I give you, that you can’t do it on your own anymore. Get your fingers off of my pussy, now!”

You took away your hands, resting on your elbows as you looked at your lover. He spit on his palm and gave your naked body such a look of indifference, that you would think he wasn’t effected by this in the slightes, if his the buldge in his pants wasn’t showing. He pushes his fingers in hard and fast, thick and long fingers curling and hitting that spongey part of your pussy, his other hand drawing little circles on your clit. Your legs started to shake as you begged him to let you cum.

"Do you want to cum?" 

"Yes!" 

"Beg for it." You beg, voice breaking, trying to hold in your orgasm.  

"Louder". You beg louder, eyes glassy and pleading. 

"Not good enough. Try again." 

“Please, pleas ah- please, I’ll do anything, please!”

"Good girl, you can cum now." And you do, hard, clamping your pussy around his fingers, moaning into the sunset. 

He took out his fingers, your pussy squelching obscenely and he let out an amused chuckle when your legs shook at the intensity. 

Silently he willed his broom into his open hand and gave you a calculating look. 

“Your pussy is so wet and needy it would take anything at this point, isn’t that right slut?” You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with humiliation as you nodded your head.

James gave you a hard look. “What was that? Speak up.”

“Yes James.”

He pressed to tip of the broom against you lips.

“Stick your tongue out and lick the tip.” You did as you were told, rolling your tongue over the smooth wood of his broom, your spit coating the surface. James was breathing heavy, eyes never leaving your mouth as he pushed the broom a little further into your mouth. “Suck.” Sucking softly you kept eye contact and made sure to let your spit cover the wood. You were messy, some of your spit was trailing down onto your tits and James used it to play softly with your nipples, pinching and twisting until they were a cherry red and hard under his touch. 

He moved to broom downwards, letting the wood caress your hard nipples, further down and lightly brushed your clit. You panted softly, teeth sinkinf into your lips as you watched closely. James stroked your clit with the broom, making you close your eyes and let out small moans, the wood rough against your sensitive skin. He moved lower, the broom pushing firmly on your hole, stretching you out deliciously. You were moaning already, the scene so bizarre, so sinful it made you ache for James. You wanted to please him now, wanted to feel his cock in your mouth and his taste on your lips. You begged him to let you suck his cock, James just shook his head strictly and fucked you faster, the broom hitting your spot and making you see stars. It sounds simple, but it made you feel deeply cared for. He was not only taking charge, he was denying you something you wanted, and still putting your pleasure first. 

His pupils were dialeted as he watched his broom fuck in and out of your, his, tight pussy. You didn’t hold back, fucking and grinding against him, the pleasure making you delirious, your mind slipping into subspace. 

You were blabbering, letting out incoherent phrases, the only word you were able to pronounce was a weak, broken “Please!”, over and over again. James was kissing every part of your body, wanting to be close to you when you came. 

“That’s it darling, fuck my broom. You gonna cum? You gonna cum like this, huh?” He was going harder and faster, wanting to see you finish.

“I want you to push when you cum, you hear me? I want to see you gush all over my broom and I will keep fucking you with it until you do”

The message was clear, James wouldn’t stop until you squirted for him. You were already in subspace from all the pleasure, the last thing you wanted to do was disobey him.

„C‘mon sweetheart be my good girl. Cum for your Jamie hm? You want me to win the game right? Want to make me happy?“

You nodded your head fast, a look of utter adoration and love on your face as you stared into his eyes. He smiled at you, clearly enjoying the attention.

„Them cum, show me what a good slut I have. Show me how much you wanna cum. You‘d do anything for me, wouldn‘t you my love. Fuck, yes go ahead, cum oh fuck-“

Your shriek cut James of, echoing through the woods as you came hard, squirting all over his broom, soaking everything with your cum.

„Fuck baby, that‘s it gimme your cum, ah-“

James panted and moaned as he watched you cum, his face contorted in utter satisfaction.

He pulled the broom out, draping himself over you and pressed you down with his weight into the grass underneath your back. He kissed you deeply, panting into you mouth. James had been so enamored with seeing you cum on his broom, that he came as well, untouched inside of his underwear. Your sight alone reduced him to a desprate mess, your pleasure enough for him to cum as well.

God the boy loved you.

[mellow-em]

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 2

[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

The afternoon sun brought in a relaxing mixture of natural light from the windows, but I wasn’t even remotely focused on it.

My right leg was bouncing hastily under the kitchen table while I prodded my salad with a fork. I tossed a particularly small carrot around in the bowl, swirling it around the sea of other vegetables.

“Are you gonna eat that or play around with it sweetie?” The sound of my mothers voice raced right through one ear and out the other one.

I only sighed in response, and leaned the side of my head on my hand, not bothering to look up at either of my parents that sat across from me.

They urged me to consistently have family meals with them today, in an attempt to dine on the experiences I had away at college. If they’d asked me to do this at any other time, I wouldn’t mind.

But my head was clouded by something else; or should I say by someone else.

Last night refused to escape my line of thinking. Even after it all went down, I went back to bed to try and fall back asleep, but it was absolutely no use.

The cunning quirk of his lips as he smirked back at me was an image that glued itself to the front of my brain. I reeled around in bed until sunrise, unable to silence my thoughts regardless of any persistence. So as of now, I was beyond exhausted.

“y/n? Are you alright?”

I jump faintly in my chair, with my fathers words pulling me away from my cogitation of the man from the pool, “I’m um.. I’m fine, sorry.”

I gave them a toothless smile as reassurance, but by the exchange of looks they both gave each other, they didn’t seem too convinced.

I shifted uncomfortably, and stabbed the carrot I was messing with. I slowly bring it towards my mouth, finally having the compulsion to take a bite.

Until the man’s wink decided to project in front of me, as if I was experiencing the whole ordeal all over again.

I abruptly dropped the fork into the bowl, resulting in a reverberating clash that not only startled my parents, but it startled me back into reality again.

“Jesus y/n, what’s gotten into you?”

I’m asking that same question, mom.

“Nothing, I uh- think I’m just tired,” the excuse flew out of my mouth in a panic, “I’m just.. I’m gonna go shower for the party later.”

I hurriedly sprung from my seat, and scurried up the stairs to the bathroom.

“Well that was smooth, dumbass,” I muttered out in the open, while slamming the door behind me.  

That son of a bitch is driving me crazy, and I haven’t even had a single conversation with him.

I take a few steps into the bathroom, placing both of my hands on opposite sides of the sink, leaning over with my body weight. With my head bowed down to the direction of my feet, I suspired deeply.

This was stupid. The brief interaction was embarrassing, yes, but with how I reacted today during lunch, especially when the party was happening later on today..

I just needed to stop thinking about what happened last night.

Act like it didn’t happen.

It didn’t happen.

____________

Turmoil carried on in the form of muffled conversations, and distinct bass from the speakers on the lower levels of the house. Even being upstairs in my room, the walls weren’t thick enough to block the noise that derived from the party.

Of course, my dad’s annual excuse backfired, and instead of the party being fairly small, it was as big as the rest of the parties we've had in the past. Although I really shouldn’t be surprised, knowing this really has carried on for 10 years at most.

As of now, I could only assume that the booze was already out for everyone, and by the end of the night, I could guarantee that almost half the people here will be drunk. It reassured me though, especially when I’ll probably end up being one of those people.

I could use a little alcohol in my system; to let myself go a little bit.

While fixing the straps of my white sundress, I looked at myself in the mirror, making sure any scraps of exhaustion were not visible on my features. Despite longing for a few hours of rest, I knew for a fact that I wasn’t going to get much yet again.

With satisfaction, I back away from my vanity, and start for the door that barricaded me from the chaos.

The exchanges of laughter became much more pronounced as I slowly opened the door, and traveled down the hall. My feet carried me towards the stairs, shaking from the rumble of the speakers seeping through the walls and floors.

It was a blessing that the noise didn’t affect our neighbors enough for them to make complaints; but that was mostly because they were all here.

With each step down the flight, more of the party overtook my vision. Guests were dispersed amongst every room as far as I could see, gathering around each other in hopes of starting conversation over the music. It had been fairly crowded to say the least.

Immediately after I make it to the ground floor, I’m bombarded by my mother.

“Hey honey, Nathan and Elena are outside if you want to say hello to them!” her slightly raising her voice didn't really help much, with us being right next to the speakers. But I nodded letting her know I understood.

Turning away from her, I then faced the crowd of people in front of me. I start to weave my way through, making slight pauses along the way to thank them for coming. Most of the people around me had a slight stench of beer already, making me scrunch my nose; that smell is definitely going to linger afterwards.

Eventually making it to the door, I slide it open and step out, letting the freshness of the outside air fill my senses. I quickly noticed the difference between the outdoors and the impeded aura from inside the house. It felt like I was finally able to breathe.

After shutting the sliding door behind me, I strolled away towards the yard.

I made sure to make a slight detour to the cooler to grab myself a beer though, rashly cracking it open as soon as I got my hands on one. I take a swig while observing the guests around me.

As soon as I saw a familiar head of blonde hair a few yards away, I could feel myself smile widely. I hadn’t seen Nate or Elena in four years, and being back home now is making me realize how much I missed them.

The both of them had moved into the neighborhood about a year after my family, and that was over 15 years ago. Ever since then, they hit it off more than you could imagine.

They had all gotten so close to one another, that they’d have annual dinners together, game nights and tag along on all of our family trips. They would even bring in their ideal vacation spots up to us, which evolved into us traveling to entirely different countries most of the time.

While Elena and my mom went to any beach they could find, and my dad found the bar, Nathan really wanted to drag me along to the historical landmarks and teach me about everything he knew. It made our relationship blossom, and now I considered him my second father.

Plus, because of him I began to develop an endless love for history.

I liked it so much that I made the decision to go to college for it. Nathan’s reaction when I told him before I left was something for the cover of a photo album, and I just knew already that a million questions were going to arise when I got to them.

I stepped down from the deck, and walked towards them with my lips still curled in a smile.

As I made it closer to them though, my gaze became hazy. With my brows contorting, my confused demeanor became more visible with every footstep I made closer to Nate and Elena.

There was another man wrapped into their conversation. He was taller than the other two, especially Elena. I noticed his hair slicked back ruggedly, from above the others’ heads. Though, I still couldn’t get a proper look at his face yet.

I turned my direction slightly to discreetly see who my neighbors were conversing with. My curious nature was overriding my body.

I should have just listened to that universally cliche phrase.

Curiosity did kill the fucking cat, and I wish it would just kill me now.

From here, I had a clear view of his face. He stood there listening to Nate’s banter, with a cigarette wedged between his lips.

The lips I had been staring at the night before, along with the rest of him.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

By this point I would’ve  been repeating my annual habit of staring in place. But  fortunately, I turned on my heal sharply to try and escape.  

“Oh my god y/n?” My breath hitched while Elena's voice rang out towards me.

Well great.

I held that particular breath in as I turned my body once more to face her. My warm smile returned to my face, but a layer of embarrassment and panic riddled beneath the surface.

“Elena, it’s so good to see you,” I went over and wrapped my arms around her carefully, keeping her baby bump in mind, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she returned the hug, leaning close to my ear, mumbling, “especially when I’ve had to deal with him all alone. I swear sometimes I really question whether the pregnancy hormones are hitting me or him harder.”

I look over at Nate for a quick second, stifling a laugh while I let go of Elena. The two of us continued laughing faintly, certainly gaining the attention of Nate.

“What are you two laughing about? What’d I do this time?” Nate looked genuinely perplexed, which made it funnier.

“Oh nothing, Nate,” Elena and I looked at each other, smirking as she spoke.

Even with Elena and I’s pleasant interaction, that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach just wouldn’t quit. I just knew he was watching my every move.

Especially, when in the corner of my eye, I watched his travel with me as I went to give Nate his hug.

“It’s good to have you back, Crash.”

Hearing the nickname took me away from my thoughts on the man behind me for a moment, and made my smile lift. 

“It’s been too long, Aku.”

We stayed this way for a few more seconds, until I feel him pat my back. I let my arms fall away from him, and return to my spot in front of them.

I then feel my head slowly turn over to the unknown one of the three; well to me he was unknown. 

“So who’s this?” I cross my arms in front of me, anticipating an answer from one of them.

But silence continued to radiate around us. 

They all stood there, exchanging looks with one another, making me raise one of my brows. While awaiting a response I decided to take a long sip of my beer, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat. 

That is, before Nate finally spoke up, “Y/n, this is Sam,” he paused, and I could see the hesitation written all over him, “Sam Drake.”

I almost choked on my beer as soon as I heard the last name. I thought for a solid minute that my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets. 

“Is this your-” I pointed between the both of them.

“He’s my older brother.” Nate finishes my sentence, as he scratched at the back of his neck. 

My face fell even more if it was even possible.

Wait.

Nate was in his early forties to begin with, so that would make Sam…

I looked at Sam’s face intensely again, specifically at the wrinkles that were tainted across his face. Now that my brain was functioning properly, unlike last night, I noticed how many there really were. 

Great. Not only was I checking out Nathan’s BROTHER, but the man that was more than twice my age.

Fuck.

[hockeylvr59]

Hi. Number 1: taking a rain walk with cale. You can choose the time. Thank you !

So with all the UMass content I've been digging up I decided to take a trip back in time with this one. So we're setting this fall 2018 when Cale was a sophomore at UMass. I'm lowkey in love with this one. Big thanks to @bqstqnbruin for the help with this plot concept. (1,610 words)

~~~~~~~~

Ellie was so going to owe you for this. Dodging beer spilling out of a cup, you pushed your way through the crowded frat house, wincing as the volume of the music somehow got even louder. Your roommate Ellie had made plans to meet a guy here tonight and she’d pleaded with you to come with her in case he didn’t show or things didn’t turn out how she expected. But, as soon as she had spotted him in the crowd upon your arrival, she had disappeared and you hadn’t seen her since. That had been nearly two hours ago. Like a good friend you’d sent her a text twenty minutes or so ago checking in and you had just gotten a reply of a thumbs up and that they had left to go to a diner off-campus.

Of course, they had. A heads-up text would have been nice.

Though you wanted to be mad at her, it was hard to be when you knew how excited she had been for this date. Still, a packed frat house on a Friday night was one of the last places you wanted to spend your time. Trying to weave your way toward the door, you tripped over something and landed smack against a solid chest. A pair of hands quickly reacted, catching you and helping you regain your balance. Quickly you mumbled an apology, though it wasn’t your fault there was a drunk person sleeping on the floor with their leg in the middle of the path.

“No worries, you okay?” A deep voice questioned, causing you to look up. When you did, your eyes met a pair of reddened cheeks that were familiar to anyone on campus who didn’t live under a rock.

Cale Makar.

The hockey team’s superstar defenseman who was back for his second season despite the chance to make the jump to the NHL.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” You stated, snapping out of your daze. “Just need to get out of here.”

Cale’s gaze softened in concern and he quickly worked using his taller frame to clear a path for you until you reached the slightly less crowded front porch. It was still loud outside but at least you didn’t have to scream to hear yourself think. Slowing, you leaned against a railing just trying to catch your breath and rid your senses of some of the stench of cheap alcohol. You didn’t expect him to stay close so when he leaned against the railing beside you, you were slightly surprised.

“Did we have Western Thought together last fall?” He asked after a moment, the question catching you off guard. You thought back to your schedule last year and then bit your lip considering that query.

“Was that Tuesday/Thursday morning, Herter Hall?” Cale must have nodded because he spoke again a moment later, a smile evident in his voice.

“I thought you looked familiar.” He mused, offering out a hand. “Cale.” He greeted, introducing himself officially. Introducing yourself in return, you asked him what he had thought about the ridiculous question that had been on the final for that class. You may not remember much but that question had screwed over half the class and you certainly hadn’t forgotten the stress you’d felt waiting for grades to drop after that exam.

That question sparked an entire conversation and before you knew it, it was almost 1am.

“I should really head back to my dorm.” You admitted a bit reluctantly. “Thanks for the chat and making this party not a total bust for me.” You joked, looking up at the sky which was starting to look like rain.

“What dorm are you in?” Cale asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Grayson.” You replied with a shrug even as Cale’s eyes went a little wide.

“I’ll walk you.” He immediately declared.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.” You assured him. Grayson was all the way across campus and you weren’t sure where he was living.

“I’ll walk you,” Cale repeated, signaling that he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. “It’s late and you shouldn’t walk across campus by yourself, not with all these idiots around.” The way he phrased his explanation showed that he knew you could handle yourself but that didn’t mean that you should have to.

“Fine. Thank you.” You declared, shooting him a slightly exasperated look. Cale gave you a semi-dimpled smile and motioned for you to lead the way. As you walked toward the admin building and fine arts center you continued chatting about everything and nothing all at once. Conversation came easy and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you were a bit taken at how smart Cale was.

You had reached the western edge of the pond, with the intention of cutting across the northern shore to make your way to your residential area, when a loud boom sounded across the sky out of nowhere. Before you could even react, torrential rain was pelting you both, soaking you to the bone. Quickly, Cale herded you over toward the library and inside. The building was quiet as he guided you up to one of the study floors murmuring that you should wait out some of the heavy rain. Knowing that you really should get home and to bed, you wanted to protest but then a flash of lightning cracked across the sky. Maybe you should wait out the storm a little bit.

Moving into a study room overlooking the pond, you shivered slightly from the air conditioning blowing through the building.

“Come here,” Cale murmured from the spot on the floor where he had settled. For a moment you eyed the chairs but then decided maybe you shouldn’t get them soaked too and the floor was probably a better option. Though you sat with some space between you and Cale, it wasn’t long before he was tugging you closer murmuring that he can’t keep you warm if you’re so far away. With another chill racing up your spine, you shifted to press against him, sighing softly at the warmth he radiated even through wet clothes.

The two of you sat in silence for a while before you heard Cale murmur your name softly.

“Yeah?” You questioned, trying not to yawn.

“Did you know that the architect of this building forgot to account for the weight of the books in his plans and that’s why only every other floor has them?” Cale stated.

“One that was totally random.” You teased softly. “Two, that’s 1000% a myth.”

When you peeked up at Cale, his cheeks were even pinker than before and they matched his lips as he did this little mindless tick you had picked up on already.

“Totally true.” He defends softly, making you giggle slightly.

“It’s not but that’s okay, you aren’t the first person to buy that myth.” You assured him. Though you didn’t notice, Cale’s face fell into a bit of a frown and he murmured under his breath that there goes trying to impress you.

Watching the rain again, you couldn’t help but yawn. Slowly your head drifted down to rest against Cale’s shoulder and you must have dozed off because the next thing you knew, Cale was murmuring your name again, trying to wake you.

“C’mon sleepy. The rain has let up a bit. This is probably our best chance to get you home.” He explained, urging you to sit up before he moved from underneath you and then pulled you up onto your feet.

Leaving the library, you started walking again through the rain, Cale chattering non-stop. You were sure it was his attempt to keep you awake and you appreciated it. At the same time though, his voice was so soothing, you almost wanted to curl right back up against his shoulder and fall asleep while he talked to you.

By the time you finally reached your dorm, it was nearly 2:30 in the morning. With the rain, a normal half-hour walk had taken three times as long. Standing in a sheltered overhang, you turned to thank Cale for making sure you got home safely.

“Definitely the most interesting first date I think I’ve been on,” Cale replied with a tired smile, his eyes still somehow bright. When your brain processed his words, your jaw dropped.

“Date?” You prodded causing Cale to hum and shrug, glancing down at his watch.

“I mean we’ve spent the last three and a half hours together talking and walking through campus. Pretty sure we can call that a date.” He insisted. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach and you ran your fingers through your wet hair. Cale was calling this a date. That was...wow.

“A date huh…” You finally breathed. “Guess that means I better get a good night kiss. Though technically it’s definitely early morning now.” Cale’s fingers slid around your waist to press against your lower back gently as he crowded closer into your space and after a moment of his eyes searching yours, he leaned down for a kiss, his lips pressing against yours chastely but firmly.

One kiss turned into two and then three before your yawning caused Cale to pull away. After asking for your number so he could take you on a non-rain date, he kissed your cheek and murmured for you to go take a warm shower, put on dry clothes, and then get some sleep.

Your lips still tingled slightly as you climbed into bed and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were the one that was going to have to owe Ellie.

[twstoric]

this game of ours

𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅: Request: Fem!Dom reader// They notice Rook's been very... /attentive/ to them lately. When they realize he's been half stalking them in his infatuation, they turn the tables on him and suddenly, /he's/ the prey and doesn't realize until they have him /pinned/ against a tree, a good ways from the main building, teasing him into a begging mess for more with just their words and a few good touches. (teasing, begging, outdoor bangin) 

𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅: Oh the requests are open 👀. Could I ask for some really rough nsfw w Mr Rook? It's consensual ofc, but like.. I wanna fuck this man so bad-

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: rook hunt x f!reader

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: The prized hunter of a distant land is known to be quite eccentric in his methods when cornering prey but to the misfortune or perhaps fortune of so called hunter, his next target is you

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘(𝕤): KINGDOM AU KINGDOM AU KINGDOM AUー stalking (mentions), obsessive behaviours, servant!reader, hunter!rook, may-or-may-not be set in twst universe, dom!reader, use of weapons (self-defence), semi-public sex, riding, light hair-pulling, biting (minor)

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.9k

𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: i love rook very very very very vvvv much and these requests resonated with my soul unfortunately so here we are 😔

Over the peak of the highest snowy mountain, beware of a forest shrouded in white. The eerie silence may just freeze your lonely heart. 

Up the river flowing with heavy streams, beware of the shards of crystals hanging from the trees. The air may waver your soul.

Close to the hill, far from the trees, layered under thick powder of snow, the Castle of Beauty greets but does not welcome. 

In the territory of pure colour lingered with sinful desires, you may want to watch your back. 

For you could be the next prey to fall in these lands.

ﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌ

Part of the first things you’ve found since working in the walls of decorated perfection, the outfits you’re equipped with is not helpful against the weather. It's a complicated piece with too many knots and loops to efficiently get into first thing before the sun rises but it’s a custom; the silent law when you work in the very palace you’re in.

The wind isn’t kind that morning. Carrying snow into your hair and each puff of breath you let out crystalizes in front of you. For such a land only painted with white as far as the eyes can see, the Queen is very strict when it comes to tending to the gardens. 

Along with the few handful servants tending to the growing flowers, you busy yourself with cutting the stray leaves growing over the symmetrically cut bush. The freezing air threatens to freeze your lungs as you work steadily through each bush. Behind you, a servant lets out a loud gasp. 

"M- Master Rook…”

You pause at the name, mind blanking for a moment before you snap back to the loud laughter of the infamous hunter behind you. “Such formalities you’re saying!” He hums and you continue cutting the leaves. “Is my Queen in the chambers?” 

A chorus of flustered confirmation greets your ears as you blow the top of the bush. You hear another round of shy pleasantries from the other servants, the hunter among them amusing their chatters. 

Feeling satisfied with your work, you wipe your hand down your dress, somehow clammy from the cold air. You straighten up, snow crunching under your shoe as you turn aroundー only to be met with the chest clad in dark fabric and you jerk your hand back in panic. 

The pruner in your hands risks injuring the man in front of you before you back off in a hurry, hands held high to make sure you won’t swing it in another dangerous direction. 

Your heart pounds in your chest from the near miss, blood running colder not from the temperature at the prospect of hurting someoneーlet alone a prized hunter of this kingdom. “M- Master Rook,” you call out timidly, the air stilling and nervous glances directed at you when you force yourself to look him in the eyes. “I apologise. I wasn’t.. I didn’t hear you come near me- My deepest apologies!” You hurry to bow your head but an amused chuckle greets your trepidation. 

You feel fingers grasp your shoulder before trailing down your arm and the smooth glide of gloved fingers grasping your fingers, easing the tight hold you have on your gardening tool. Rook takes the small device away, clasping it between his hands and trailing a finger over the exposed blade with a sweet smile. 

“You have very fast reflexes, madame.” He murmurs softly, voice carried by the wind only for you to hear. There’s a glint of something you’re not familiar with when Rook shifts his eyes to look at you, a smile twisting his lips. Just as the expression settles on his face, it’s instantly replaced with a bright smile. “Do be careful next time! It would be a shame if you were to hurt these beautiful hands.” He takes your hand as he speaks, placing the pruner back in your hands.

You’re unable to say anything as he takes a step back, lifting his hat and giving you a bow. “Then if you would excuse me.”

You don’t see him again for the rest of the day.

ﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌ

Seeing Rook Hunt is perhaps akin to observing the steady trickle of water into a pot. You’re fully aware the goal is to fill that small container but because of the irrational pace, it stays in the back of your mind until the water eventually overflows from being left alone too long. 

You’re fully aware of his presence but waiting to see him is unnecessaryー nothing will change if you keep waiting but when you finally look for him again, his presence can be overwhelming. 

The guilt is present in the back of your mind from the near accident; a proper apology feeling like the only remedy to your nagging feeling. But being the trusted aid to the Queen, he doesn’t hang around the castle for long; going in and out like the changing seasons. You find yourself always thinking about a way to properly apologise and… a little curious to the expression he was wearing. 

You don;t think you’ve ever seen someone look so noticed with such a sharp object beforeーmaybe hunters think differently about weapons..?

At the start, your mind would only shift back to the blond whenever you weren’t busy but lately… you can’t seem to stop thinking about him. As if his mere existence has taken a spot inside your head and made itself comfortable to plague your dreams. What used to be the few fleeting thoughts turn to lingering ideas; somehow always imagining his presence near you. 

It feels like you can’t see him when he’s there but you can’t exactly.. dictate yourself for being paranoid when the reason the garden accident happened was because you couldn’t feel him sneak up on you either. 

You pause.

Thinking back on the matter, it feels as though… you really can’t tell his presence when he’s around. The garden wasn’t even the first time. Suddenly the thought of all the times he’s walked near you without you noticing race in your head like a poorly timed cut scene. A shiver runs down your spine.

No one knows when Rook will return from his hunts. He’ll leave when ordered but when he’ll return is always random.

Your hand tightens on the basket you’re holding. There’s the rush of fear in your chest when you hurry outside. You need to confirm something. 

The outside isn’t as colder as it normally is (fortunately) and you hurry yourself towards the river a little further in the woods. The air thins the faster you go, basket feeling a lot heavier in your arms despite only filled with sheets. You can’t feel the twitch of your fingers, the only sound registering in your mind is the crunch of snow. 

The familiar view of the old tree bark greets you and you’re running the best you could towards it.

The echo of footsteps follow you until your back presses against the tree and you throw the basket to the side. A small noise of surprise spurs you to round the other side of the tree until you see blond tufts of hair and you lunge at the perpetrator in time to grab the dagger sheathed to his side. 

You breath heavily, trying to steady your breath as you hold onto the blade and point it in front of you. Unlike what you expected, you’re met with a look of confusion. 

“Master Rook,” you breathe, unable to take the silence and lifting the weapon higher when he steps closer in return. Seeing the display, the blond chuckles before a full blown grin stretches his lips and he’s clapping his hand like a spectator watching a performance. 

“Mh, you indeed have fast reflexes don’t you?” The question is phrased like a praising lord to his disciple and you feel unnerved at the smile on his face. 

You step closer, tilting the tip of the blade to his chest. Rook doesn’t move. “Why were you following me?” He stays silent at your inquiry, head tilted as if he’s unaware of your accusations and you dig the tip of his blade to his chest, not enough to touch skin under the thick layer of his coat. “How long have you been following me?”

“Oh?” he inhales, hands held up in surrender but the smile doesn’t leave his face. “I see you’ve noticed. Tell me, since when have your suspicions aroused for you to think it was me?” Rook blinks slowly at you, lashes fluttering against his cheek and glinting with the very same look you’re unable to stop thinking about.

Your fingers tighten on the hilt of the blade, biting down on your bottom lip to hold in your confusion. You almost can’t fathom how this is happening. “Lucky guess,” you settle on instead and you feel your eyes widen when Rook takes your wrist and presses the weapon in your hands against his neck. 

“Do you want revenge, ma chérie?”

As if incited by the look in his eyes, you feel a bubbling annoyance in your chest. He’s playing with you despite always unsettling you and he knows yet chose to turn a blind eye to your comfort. You grab the front of his attire, his eyes blinking in surprise before you’re yanking him roughly and using your weight to push him against the tree. 

Rook’s lips part soundlessly and you don’t allow him to speak when you lean close, lips barely brushing against his. “It would only be fair, wouldn’t it?” Your voice rises in pitch, from excitement or something else you’re not sure but you dig his dagger on the tree against the side of his head with a hard stab. “It’s only fair if your head’s filled with me as much as mine is with you.”

Your lips crash against his afterwards, flinching at the cold touch of his skin but melting soon enough when Rook wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You make a sound of protest, unhooking his arms around you and roughly holding them up on the tree. 

Rook eagerly chases after your lips when you pull away and narrow your eyes at him warningly. He’s smiling when he starts unbuttoning his coat, hands held up against the tree obediently as you work his clothes open. He shivers violently when you push his shirt open, exposing the hard muscle of his chest against winter air but Rook isn’t shivering from the coldーhis excitement for you makes a drunk smile appear on his face. 

“I’ve been watching you for quite awhile,” he sighs blissfully and you hum, moving on to the knots on his pants. “There was.. something about you. I didn’t know what it was but the urge to know everything spurs me to action.” You listen to his confession, impatiently tugging at his pants as Rook leans his head back. “A beautiful flower among a garden of edith. It was almost extinct, ma chérie, to find everything about you.” His voice turns giddy and he bites his lips excitedly when you free his cock, already hard and twitching against cool air.

“You talk a lot, Mister Rook.” Your fingers wrap around the hard flesh, Rook whining at the freezing touch of your finger and you squeeze harder. The small gasp he lets out makes you warm. You steadily jerk his cock, smiling at the crumbling expression on the hunters face. “Mister Rook,” you whisper against his lips, catching his attention. “You’ll get tired from standing up too long. Why don’t you lay down?”

He visible tenses at that, lips pursed in a thin line but the blush on his face is still present when you give another encouraging squeeze. “You want to find everything about me, don’t you? I can be a little mean, you know?” The tone you use breathes an air of innocence and you feel the cock in your hands twitch. You smile. “Just kidding~ You should lay on the sheets in the basket. I’ll clean them up later.” 

You’re thankful the sheets in question were your own. 

Rook complies to your wishes easily, movements rushed when he pulls away from you and folds the sheets into a thick enough layer and pacing it on the ground. You pat his shoulder to get him to lay down and it’s enough for him to sit on, his back leaning against the tree.

There’s a fleeting look of discomfort on his face when he sits down but Rook is instantly reaching out to you. He breaths a string of sentences you don’t understand but it doesn’t seem to matter when you settle yourself on your knees, straddling his legs and Rook waits patiently. 

“You’re very pretty Mister Rook,” you place your hand on the side of his neck, fingers pressing against the back of his ears and Rook leans into your touch. His hands hurriedly bunch your dress over your hips, exposing your legs but you don’t seem to shiver from the cold. Not when you’re focusing on your source of fire in front of you.

“Touch me,” he breaths, bucking his hips up and you see the flicker of frustrations in his eyes when you raise yourself higher. “Mon ange,” his eyes gloss over and you watch, unable to look away, as Rook circles his hips up in slow motion, bottom lip sucked into his mouth. “Won’t you bless me with your touch? I need you. Please, mon chérie.”

It snaps you out of the little game you’re playing and you’re angrily tugging at your undergarments, ripping the soft material but unable to care when you feel frustrated at the power this man holds over you. “You’re so pathetic,” you bite out in irritation, no bite in your words as you grab the base of his cock.

Rook gasps, knees trembling as you press yourself against him. He watches, careful, calculating, burning the image before him in his mind when the head of his dick breaches past your opening and you moan softly, sinking yourself on his cock. 

The tight heat wrapping around him is delicious and Rook feels like crying out from joy. Your hands tangle in his hair, steadying yourself as Rook bottoms out and you take a moment to appreciate the stretch of his cock in your pussy. 

Every little thought melts away in your head and all you can focus on is the press of each rigid vein against your walls rippling pleasure into your blood. You curse softly, finally finding the strength to move and the sound of harsh slap of skin against skin fills your ears when you set a fast pace. 

Rooks fingers tighten around your waist, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy as you pleasure yourself on his cock. The tip of his hard length kissing your insides perfectly with each descent. You feel the spreading heat in your stomach, sharp gasps leaving your lips whenever Rook bucks his hips up to meet you. 

His fingers grasp the snow besides him, skin protected by gloves but he can’t focus on the prickling coldness when you tighten around him. A sharp yank to his hair makes him gasp, a loud moan spilling from his lips and you slam your ass down timely, raking a shudder down his spine. 

Rook chants your name like a devoted worshipper and feels the sudden urge to litter his skin with your mark. So you do; lips planting against smooth skin and you bite and suck at every inch you kiss, drawing out whines from the blond. 

His thighs twitch uselessly, feeling the building heat close enough to burst. The small jerk of his head is enough to tell you of his impending orgasm and you grin, trailing your cold fingers on his chest and flicking a pert nipple. Rook’s breath hitches, eyes hazy as you bounce on his lap, movements becoming uncoordinated from your own approaching climax. 

Your hand cups his face gently, contrasting your brutal desperation, and you smile at him as if revealing a glimpse of paradise. “Cum for me,” the whispered command is enough to make Rook tense and he’s cumming with a violent shiver, hips bucked up into you and his hand holds you down as he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. 

You gasp, coming soon after. Your thighs twitch and jerk, body reduced to a quivering mess as you hug Rook close to you. His face buries into your soft breasts, hands no longer bunching up your dress and letting the material fall over your legs. It almost seems like you’re only sitting on top of him like this. You can still feel his cock inside you.

“Good boy,” you praise and Rook nuzzles closer to you. As if natural, you stroke his head, looking around to see that his hat had fallen off somewhere along the journey of your wild cat and mouse game. “Should we get going, Rook?”

The blond suddenly snaps his head up, wide eyed and looking at you in awe. He mumbles something under his breath, arms wrapping around your waist tightly. Clear excitement with the building pitch in his tone when Rook holds you close, peering up at you with a glint in his eyes. “Mon amour, marry me?”

You blink, lips parting before a blush settles on your skin but rather than from embarrassment, you feel more confused. “Um. W- we’re sorta doing all the wrong steps here, aren’t we?”

He grins in response. 

[alwaysbeliev]

Same as the Last

pairing: Arthur x Reader

summary: Mary Linton has summoned Arthur once again, and he has dropped everything to see her. You're left at Shady Belle to wonder what is going on and what it means for your relationship.

word count: 1,782

notes: you can find this on AO3 under the same username, if you wish to give it love there, too! it’s been a long time since i really got into writing, so i’m taking baby steps. it might be small, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

Curse that Mary Linton.

Pacing, pacing, all you could do was pace. The others were getting tired of it. Mrs. Grimshaw had already given you several chores, all of which you completed at haphazard speed. The laundry was still dripping on the line, puddles forming underneath in the already soaked ground. It was gonna take a thousand years to dry. But you had other things on your mind.

“Is that from your secret lover?” you had teased Arthur earlier. A letter had arrived for him, brought from the post office by Pearson, and he had scarcely looked at it when you asked. He chuckled at your joke. But as he studied the writing and unfolded the paper, his smile fell, replaced with a strange mixing of emotions you couldn’t quite place.

“No, it’s…” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the words before him. 

“Arthur?” You tried peeking over his shoulder, but in a defensive move, he turned so you couldn’t see it. “Is everything okay?”

Your mind started racing as you wondered what it might be. As far as you were aware, the outlaw had no outside obligations. None of the gang did. Quickly, you started cycling through any recent or semi-recent events, wracking your brain for an answer, anything that might help solve this weird and uncomfortable puzzle. Maybe it was some kind of summons? You’d heard of the law issuing letters. But if that were the case, then the gang’s pseudonym at the post office was compromised. Was it related to unfinished business in Valentine? 

It suddenly clicked. Right as Arthur finished reading, you said, “Mary.”

“I, uh... “ At least he had the decency to look sheepish. He nodded.

Immediately, your mood had soured. And it had only gone downhill from there. The letter arrived this morning, Arthur had read it after breakfast, and offered it to you to read after he had finished. It was from Mary, alright. She was in Saint Denis, and, yet again, she was begging for Arthur’s help. You tried not to be angry, but you were. Mary was long before you and you knew that, and yet, you were still strangely jealous of her. Despite existing long before you in Arthur’s life, she was still receiving so much attention, so much of his time, so much of his… You couldn’t think of what it was exactly, but it was infuriating. 

And now, here you were. Mid-afternoon. Roaming aimlessly around Shady Belle, getting on everyone’s nerves. Pearson, who was usually one to nag those who were bored into helping prep the food, was avoiding you like the plague. You had taken to practicing your aim, your volcanic pistol in your hand, squinting at the glass bottles you had lined up on the end of the dock. It was cruel, but you imagined each one was Mary and Arthur. Bang! There goes the engagement ring. Bang! Their stupid faces kissing. Bang!

You jumped about a mile in the air as the last gunshot came from behind you. Whirling around, you found yourself face to face with Arthur, lowering his revolver. He was smiling, just a slight lift to the left side of his mouth, and he pretended to blow smoke from the barrel of his weapon, spinning it poorly around his finger before replacing it in his holster. He approached you with his thumbs hooked in his belt to admire his work. 

“Always were a strong shot,” he commented, nodding his head towards the bottles. 

“You’ve been doing this a long time,” you grumbled. Arthur chuckled.

“Not me, I was talkin’ about you.”

You could only half shrug. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, though you knew he was searching for yours. He sighed deeply and shuffled his feet.

“Look, can we- Can we talk? I don’t want this to be turned into a, a big thing.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your eyes and met his. The look on his face was begging you to have pity on him, exposing a strange vulnerability you had been seeing more from him lately. It tugged at your heartstrings and you finally caved. You tossed your head back, staring at the sky for a second as you exhaled sharply, drawing strength from the clouds above you. 

“Fine.” 

With a flourish, you extended your arm in a sweeping, “Right this way” motion, indicating he lead the way to a quiet spot. He stared at you a moment before stepping past you, walking towards the house. You trailed behind him, your mind returning to its tumultuous state it had been in most of the day. He had been gone so long, the sun was starting to go down, painting the campsite in orange hues. What could he have been doing all day? Mary hadn’t said what was going on in her letter, just hinted at it. You had spent an hour looking over it and scouring it for information. Man, your stomach hurt from the anxiety.

The two of you ended up in your shared room on the upper floor of the former plantation home. Arthur had held the door open for you, and you found yourself unable to sit down. Behind you, Arthur tried to encourage you to sit, but you could only shake your head. He edged past you to take a seat instead.

For a long while, you just stared at each other. Arthur removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. You couldn’t bring your mind to form any words for him. All the anger you had had that morning started to drain out of you at the sight of him. There was a sad air around him, something had happened, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what. He finally broke the gaze you had each other trapped in and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“How’s Mary?” Your voice finally broke the silence. You cut him off preemptively, scared of what he may have been about to say.

“She’s just fine,” he answered, apparently relieved to hear you speak. “So’s her father, the bastard.”

“It was about her father?”

“Yeah, no good asshole spending money he don’t even have.” The venom in Arthur’s voice made your skin crawl. It was easy to forget, in more tender moments, that he was an outlaw. The fire in his eyes lasted less than a second, however, rapidly replaced by the strange sadness from before. “He, uh… He tried to sell her mother’s brooch. For his.. Hell, I don’ even know, whatever he keeps spending money on. Same shit it’s always been.”

You were frozen, watching him carefully. He didn’t look up. Thinking there was more, you allowed the silence to continue, but the air was still heavy and you needed the weight off your chest.

“Was that all?” you finally asked. Your voice came out soft and fragile. You had your answer when Arthur turned his head upwards, the slightest guilty smile tugging on the corner of his mouth, and the churning feeling returned to your stomach. “Well, did you-- Did you kiss her?”

Arthur let out a bark of laughter. Suddenly, you felt very silly for even asking. 

“Darlin’, no,” he said. With a whoosh of air, your shoulders relaxed, and you even felt a smile approaching your own face. “I didn’t kiss her. But I’d be lyin’ if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind.” The tightness returned as quickly as it had left. Anger bubbled upwards, rushing hot to your head, and you opened your mouth to accuse him, but the look in his eyes registered: it was pain. Pain?

“Arthur,” you whispered, “what happened? Please tell me.” 

Making eye contact once again, the cowboy shifted on the bed and gestured for you to sit beside him, this time closer to a command than suggestion. Hesitantly, you joined him. Your hands were placed gingerly in your lap. He returned to his previous position, elbows on his knees, and he barely looked to you as he recounted everything that happened. He started with Mary shouting to him from the balcony, to their almost argument about the what-ifs of their past, through pursuing her father and chasing down the brooch. They had gone to the theater together. A date? And, finally…

“Mary… Mary asked me to run away with her.” 

The range of emotions running through your head was making you dizzy. Too much to process, too much to consider, so much anger at her, anxiety towards Arthur’s thoughts. You stared hard at your fingers, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on your clothes. You wondered at what the conversation was like, what Arthur had said, what his expression had betrayed. Did Mary mean it? Was she truly still thinking about him all these years later? Would she ever stop trying to take him away?

“Say somethin’.” His gaze turned to you, the worry clear in his voice. His piercing blue eyes were burning into the side of your head. Without enough time to compose a kinder phrasing, you spluttered out the first thought you had.

“So why didn’t you?”

“Why--?” Arthur chuckled, a low rumble deep in his chest. Relief, you realized, was the cause for his sudden change of tone. “Mary has played me for a fool more times than I can count. We was just kids, then. We’re… Well, we’re grown now, things have changed. Besides, I love you too much to disappear like that.”

Every other thought left your mind. I love you. I love you. I love you… He had never said those words to you. They were spoken every day through action, sure, but out loud… They were almost taboo. Tears filled your eyes as you looked up into his face. His eyes widened in alarm.

“You love me?” you managed to say, your voice strained by the tightening of your throat.

“I have, for a while,” he said. “I-I’m sorry, I jus’ didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it’s the truth. I do love you, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Relief in the purest form of ecstasy washed over you. You threw your arms around Arthur’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment before returning the embrace. His warmth filled you up and washed out every bad feeling and thought you had that day. 

“I love you, too,” you said softly, burying your face in his neck. He still carried the smells of Saint Denis with him, but you didn’t care. He didn’t smell like Mary Linton, and he never would. He was yours.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter One ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: G

Word count: 2100

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour-rainycity” if you like!**

A/n Thanks for the love on the prologue <3 also, this is the first time I’ve scheduled a post, so please let me know if something looks weird!

Translations: Av-‘osto = Don’t be afraid // Odúlen le natho = I’m here to help you // Pedil edhellen = do you speak Elvish

I was right — the peace deserts me instantly.

A sharp pain pierces my chest, my lungs ache, and my brain throbs inside my skull. A man leans over me. His long, dark hair tickles my neck. He is beautiful and smiling, but I do not know him. Fear quickens my breath. I try to jerk away from him, but he keeps a firm pressure on my shoulders, holding me in place. He meets my wide, panicked eyes with calm, reassuring ones of forest brown.

“Av-‘osto. Odúlen le natho.”

What? I shake my head at him, fear temporarily making room for confusion. The words he speaks, which had proven so irresistible when I was under the weight of the water, now sound only strange and indecipherable.

I stare at him, uncomprehending and very much on my guard.

His brow furrows, and, when he speaks again, it is with a note of hesitation. “Pedil edhellen?”

“I don’t think she does.” Another voice—confident, commanding—comes from my right. I turn my head just in time to see a tall man in peculiar armor slide off his horse. He takes quick strides towards me, then crouches near my side. “What is your name?”

I find myself momentarily silenced by his proximity, as well as his eyes. They are a clear ice blue—beautiful, depthless—but cold and calculating. They hold none of the warmth the other man’s eyes do, only suspicion. As much as I don’t like behind held to the ground by him, I turn my head, searching for the deep, honest brown I met upon awaking.

He meets my gaze with a soft smile. “Do not feel fear, we are not here to harm you. We found you unconscious and alone near the river, and stopped to help.” His voice is light, unsure, and strangely accented, placing emphasis on the wrong part of the words, but I am pleased that I can understand him now. As if to illustrate his point, that I am not in danger from them, he releases his hold on my shoulders and allows me space to sit up.

“Slowly,” he cautions. “I worry you have hit your head.”

That would explain the pounding. I grimace, supporting myself on my forearms, and turn my head to observe my surroundings. It’s all very green and brown, I suppose, though vibrant, not at all like the waters I found myself trapped under. Tall grass, puddles of mud, a river behind me. I see no roads or signs to indicate where I am.

The man to my right answers my unspoken question. “You are near the Gladden Fields on the bank of the River Anduin.” I recoil. None of those words mean anything to me. I search my mind, trying to conjure up an image, a memory, anything that would give me context as to where I am.

But I come up blank.

“I will ask you again,” the man continues. His voice is hard, completely devoid of patience, and though I don’t exactly want to, I find myself turning my head to look him in the eye. “What is your name?”

Well, that answer, I know. “Cosima. What’s yours?” I raise an eyebrow, unable to stop myself from challenging him a little. I don’t like his attitude, how he acts like he doesn’t have the time to deal with me. He is the one who stopped, after all.

“So she does speak,” an amused voice remarks from over the shoulder of the brown-eyed man. I jump, not previously noticing the two others—blond like the man to my right—who sit high atop large horses.

Okay, that doesn’t seem right.

Fragments of memory come to me, brief flashes of tall buildings, busy sidewalks, and honking yellow cars.

America.

The name comes to me just as my own did—suddenly and detached from other clues. I piece together what I can, and am left with only the feeling that this is wrong. There should not be deserted, untouched land, nor men in armor who travel on horseback.

I should not be here, I realize. Wherever ‘here’ is….

The blond to my right stands, and I shrink back, intimidated by his height. The sword at his hip and the bow on his back make me even more wary.

“I am Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlórien. The ellon to your left is Baranor, a healer respected by the Lady herself. The ellyn on horseback are Rumil and Orophin—my brothers, and wardens of our realm. Where do you come from? Were you traveling somewhere?”

I don’t recognize half the words he says. Their language and phrasing is unfamiliar to me, which gives me reason to believe that I am not in America. My limited worldview expands slightly, and I become aware of the existence of other countries, vast seas and expansive continents. A theory begins to take form. I must be in another country. Perhaps I was traveling, and hit my head, and now I’ve gotten separated from my group. Though, I don’t have any memory of a group…perhaps I will remember them in time. I did hit my head.

Haldir clears his throat impatiently.

“I…think I’m from America. Do you know if I’m close? Or at least which country I’m in?

For the first time, I see the irritation in his eyes break, giving way to something akin to concern. “You are in Arda.”  

I wrack my brain, searching for anything that even remotely sounds like Arda. Africa? Armenia? Nothing helpful comes to mind.

Baranor, still crouched at my side, brings a gentle hand to my temple, brushing his fingers lightly over the tender skin. He notices my wince, and turns back to Haldir. “She definitely hit her head. Her mind is not fully with us…I think that, as she heals, she will speak with more sense.”

“Excuse me,” I huff, annoyed at his assessment of me and them talking as if I weren’t here. “You’re not exactly making much sense, either.”

Haldir purses his lips but gives no other indication that he’s heard me. He turns to his brothers and the three of them engage in quick conversation in that language I do not know.

I keep the three of them in the corner of my eye—just because they haven’t hurt me yet doesn’t mean I should let my guard down—and catch Baranor’s attention. “I can’t remember much—anything, really.”

He nods, looking at me with clinical concern. “I guessed as much. You remember your name and seem to have some idea where you are from, even if I do not recognize the realm. It’s better than nothing—encouraging, even. I believe your memories will return to you with time.”

That’s something, at least.

The one called Rumil hops off his horse and swaggers up to me, crouching low like his brother did. “Are you human?”

I recoil. What kind of question is that? “Of course I’m human.”

He shakes his head, a coy smile on his face. “Do not say, ‘of course’. There are many races in this realm, some much more interesting than the race of men.”

I swallow, pieces of information that I’ve gathered since waking clicking into place.

I don’t want to ask.

Asking might mean confronting, and I’ve only just woken up. I’m not ready for that.

But I have to. Because I’ve woken up in an unfamiliar place with people who don’t speak my language, don’t seem to know anything about the existence of my country, travel on horses, wear armor and, Rumil has just tilted his head to the side, revealing an ear that comes to a point. I bring my hand up to my own ear, checking. Yep. Not pointed.

A sinking feeling settles in my gut. I gather what courage I can. Just ask. There’s probably a perfectly normal explanation. Maybe they’re playing a trick on me. “Are you…not human, then?”

His teasing smile never falters and he gives a sort of mocking bow. “No, my dear lady. You have the pleasure of encountering four of the eldar. We are elves from the realm of the Lady Galadriel. We have been here long before the time of man, and we will be here long after.”

This is ridiculous.

I push myself to stand, Baranor rushing to help. The world sways before me, and I wilt against the cool surface of his chest place. He holds me awkwardly—trying to keep as much distance between us as possible while still supporting my weight.

“I’ve hit my head,” I mutter, trying to fight through the fierce onset of dizziness and nausea. “I-I’ve been in some sort of accident, or had a strange reaction to medicine. Or maybe this is a bizarre dream, and I will wake up and laugh at myself and all this will have been in my imagination, or…or…” My breathing quickens, and I bring a hand to my forehead. My hand is so cold. Is it meant to be that cold?

I pitch forward, and Rumil darts a hand to grip my shoulder and keep me in place. His teasing smile disappears, and he turns to Haldir, looking alarmed. He calls out in that unknown language, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, though the motion makes me feel worse.

“Come on, you’re in my dream, so you can at least speak a language I understand!”

Baranor twists to study my face, his frown deepening. He joins the indecipherable conversation.

“Not you, too,” I whine, glaring accusingly at him. Stupidly, I had already come to see him as a sort of ally. All four of them ignore me which is quite rude, considering they’re obviously talking about me. Their discussion grows heated—they’re arguing.

Dark spots dance in my line of vision and I groan, wanting to lie down. Baranor tightens his grip around me, and his voice rises in volume. Does he have to be so loud?

Haldir barks out something that sounds very much like an order, and I focus long enough to see him mount his horse. Rumil releases my shoulder, sparing me the quickest of looks before returning to his own steed. Before I can process what’s happening, Baranor uses his grip on me to guide me towards the tall chestnut stallion.

I guess his intent.

“No!” I begin to fight against his hold. “I don’t want—”

“Hush now, it will be alright,” he soothes, his hands tightening on me as I try to get away. “We do not know of the realm you speak, but we are on a journey to a trusted friend—a wise friend—who may be able to help you. We will take you with us.”

I go stiff in his arms, weighing my options.

I have no reason to trust his word. But they haven’t hurt me yet, and the fact remains that I have no idea where I am. I probably wouldn’t fare any better on the riverbank. I don’t have food, or supplies, or a map. And traveling with them would allow me to see more of the landscape. Maybe we’ll pass a city, and I can sneak away. And from there…

Well, that’s a problem for later.

So, resigned to my situation for the time being, I nod. Baranor gives me a look of relief—I imagine he has no desire to lift a kicking woman onto a horse—and releases my shoulders to kneel and lock his hands together. I don’t particularly like heights, and this animal is much too tall for my liking, but everything about this day has been absolutely insane. I may as well get on the unpredictable beast. Baranor pushes on my foot as I pull on the horses’s mane. A second later, I’m sat firmly on the animal, Baranor in front of me. I look down to see how high up I am—a clear mistake, especially given the dizziness that hasn’t quite receded—and immediately wrap my arms around Baranor’s stomach. It’s difficult, given the armor he wears, but I manage, seeing as it gives me extra insurance that I won’t go tumbling to the ground.

“Get my attention if you feel faint,” he murmurs, taking the reins in his hands. “There is a canteen of water near your right foot if you get thirsty.”

And, before I can contemplate if I have the core strength to reach for the water and stay on the horse, we’re off, racing along the riverbank and leaving behind any chance I have of turning back.

A/n Thanks for reading! As always, comments, likes, and reblogs are so appreciated. Let me know if you would like a tag! See you on Thursday with Chapter Two :)

|next part - to be posted|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @fangirl-nonsense @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw

**Strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you -- check your settings! 

[dawnsrose]

BASIC QUESTIONS

first name?  aurora

surname?  capulet

middle names?  josephine antoinette

nicknames?  briar rose / rose ... i guess heh

date of birth?  february 26th

age?  twenty - five

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

height?  5′6ft / 1.70m

weight?  121lbs / 55kg

build?  slim

hair colour?  very light blonde, golden - like

hair style?  straight and lightly curled at the end, with bangs

eye colour?  violet, kind of a purple-ish blue

eye shape?  almond

glasses or contact lenses?  neither

distinguishing facial features?  the color of her eyes, but also her lips are naturally a really pretty pinkish color

which facial feature is most prominent? i don’t think there is one ?  her face is very well balanced, although i guess her eyes are the most attention - catching part

which bodily feature is most prominent?  her waist, it is quite small!

other distinguishing features?  nope

skin?  fair ,  and her skin do be clear af we love to see it

hands?  small and dainty

make up?  she doesn’t really wear makeup, but she thinks its fascinating! her favorite items are mascara and lipstick

scars?  none

birthmarks?  none

tattoos?  none

physical handicaps?  none

type of clothes?  dresses ,  though she would love to incorporate some pants into her wardrobe .  usually wears neutral / earthy tones ,  unless it’s a special occasion ,  in which she’ll wear either pink or blue .  loves a nice skirt .  think cottagecore outfits !

how do they wear their clothes?  again ,  light and cottagecore outfits .  think of outfits like these: 1 2 3 4 5

what are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc)  aurora takes really good care of her feet ,  so they’re pristine !  she really hates wearing shoes ,  but wears them when she’s in public so as not to seem weird .  she really enjoys the feeling of her feet touching the grass though ,  as it reminds her of home

race / ethnicity?  caucasian

mannerisms?  classy ,  delicate and polite .  very ballerina like ,  except her gestures aren’t as grandiose .  i would say a good example of her demeanor is audrey hepburn ,  or the movements in old / classic barbie movies like nutcracker or swan lake .

are they in good health?  for the most part !  she has a bit of anxiety when surrounded by many people ,  but it’s getting better .

do they have any disabilities?  none

PERSONALITY

what words or phrases do they overuse?  little expressions of surprise like “ goodness! ”  or  “oh!”

do they have a catchphrase? none

are they more optimistic or pessimistic?  optimistic for sure

are they introverted or extroverted?  ambiverted leaning towards introverted 

do they ever put on airs?  not at all !

what bad habits do they have?  sleeping in heheh she may be an early bird ,  but aurora really enjoys sleeping in and napping

what makes them laugh out loud?  philip being a clown. honestly it’s not hard to make aurora laugh, especially over silly things

how do they display affection?  gentle touches, words of affirmation, poetry, tender gazes

mental handicaps?  none

how do they want to be seen by others?  as someone who cares about them and that can be trusted

how do they see themselves?  as someone who still has a lot to live and learn and give, but who appreciates every little thing around her. she sees herself as a good person who is just trying her best

how are they seen by others?  i think people see her as someone kind and full of life. something like the embodiment of hope. maleficent probably sees her as a nuisance though

strongest character trait?  i’d say it’s a tie between how much she believes in goodness and kindness, and how perserverant she is 

weakest character trait?  she dispairs quite easily, but always ends up collecting herself

how competitive are they?  not very !  it’s about the experience ,  not the result 

do they make snap judgements or take time to consider?  it depends on the situation, i think. but more often than not, aurora is capable of thinking things through before reacting --- except for when it comes to her feelings.

how do they react to praise?  lots of blushing and dismissal ,  though she appreciates it always

how do they react to criticism?  lots of self doubting and crying at first, but she’s thankful and appreciative of it all, because she assumes it means the other cares about her improvement and well being 

what is their greatest fear?  being alone

what are their biggest secrets?  that she doesn’t hate maleficent , and wants to meet and talk to her

what is their philosophy of life?  treat others as you wish to be treated and have faith in love

when was the last time they cried?  when she first saw philip in elias

what haunts them?  fear of never meeting her parents

what are their political views?  she knows nothing about politcs, just wants everyone to be treated with respect and equally

what will they stand up for?  prejudice ,  unnecessary rudeness ,  racism ,  homophobia ,  mysogyny ,  literally anything that puts someone in an uncomfortable spot .

who do they quote?  probably her aunts heh

are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?  outdoorsy !

what is their sinful little habit?  she’s very secretive and sneaky about her thoughts ,  and likes finding little loopholes in things

what sense do they most rely on?  touch and hearing

how do they treat people better than them?  with respect ,  would like to learn from them as well

how do they treat people worse than them?  also with respect , tries to find common ground and understand why they are that way 

what quality do they most value in a friend?  kindness and support

what do they consider an overrated virtue?  detachment 

if they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?  how dependent of others she feels .  it’s not her fault of course, but she wishes she had more control of her life .

what is their obsession?  the feeling of being loved 

what are their pet peeves?  loud sounds / people arguing over silly things

what are their idiosyncrasies?  she tends to panic and overthink things at times, which can be bad

FRIENDS & FAMILY

is their family big or small? who does it consist of?  i’d say it’s decent sized / kind of big ,  considering she still considers the good fairies family .  plus ,  philip’s also become part of her family ,  and his family is huge .

what is their perception of family?  any and everyone who is there for you when you need them most and cares for you as you care about them

do they have siblings? older or younger?  none .

describe their best friend.  i don’t think she has one ?  give her a best friend :(  philip can’t be both okay that’s too much.

ideal best friend?  just someone she can be a silly romantic with, who’ll watch movies and read books and sing or dance with her, maybe go on walks / play with animals too ! 

describe their other friends.  most of aurora’s friends are really sweet ,  nice people .  she’s also protective of many of them ,  like dani for example .  there’s others she actually looks up to ,  like penelope for example or emily .  she thinks they’re both absurdly glamorous and beautiful .

describe their acquaintances.

do they have any pets?  not really, but aurora loves animals and gets along with them so well so ...  who knows heheh she had lots of animal companions back home though

who are their natural allies?  the charmont family

who are their surprising allies?  not too sure but thackery binx and i think hercules zevrous would be an ally to her as well!

PAST & FUTURE

what was your character like as a baby? as a child?  not too different from how they are now. aurora was a very lively, happy child! she was also absurdly kind and was full of life, while being naturally graceful and poised. i don’t think she was one to cry a lot either, and was most grateful for everything the good fairies did for her.

did they grow up rich or poor?  while she wasn’t poor, aurora had a fairly modest upbringing, since she did live in a cottage in the glen back home, but nothing lacked for her in terms of essentials and etc.

did they grow up nurtured or neglected?  nurtured by the good fairies! aurora grew up knowing nothing but love.

what is the most offensive thing they ever said?  i legit don’t think aurora has ever offended anyone like that? if she doesn’t have anything good to say she’d rather not say anything at all, and nothing has annoyed to the point of doing so. at least not thus far.

what is their greatest achievement?  i think still being alive lmao

what was their first kiss like?  oh i don’t know yet 👀

what is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?  i legit can’t think of anything other than her argument with the fairies about philip, but she came around soon enough.

what are their ambitions?  to be reunited with her family, to have a big wedding with philip, to understand maleficent’s ideals, to become more independent.

what advice would they give their younger self?  to just believe in herself, and that everything will fall into place. 

what smells remind them of their childhood?  fresh flowers and grass.

what was their childhood ambition?  to find love.

what is their best childhood memory?

what is their worst childhood memory?

did they have an imaginary childhood friend?  nope!  she had a fair amount of animal companions, so there was never any need for imaginary ones. 

when was the last time they were crushed with disappointment?  that brief moment when meeting philip in elias where she thought she would have to ignore him for the rest of her life due to being engaged to someone.

what past act are they most ashamed of?  arguing with her aunts over love and being so sad/crying so much about it.  still, she doesn’t think she could have behaved any other way.

what past act are they most proud of?  i think she’s extremely proud of how she’s been living in elias so far,  not relying on others for help and taking good care of herself.

has anyone ever saved their life?  i think in a way, everyone who’s been involved in keeping her away from maleficent has saved her life.

strongest childhood memory?

LOVE

do they believe in love at first sight?  OH HELL YEAH

are they in a relationship?  yes !  happily married :`)

how do they behave in a relationship?  not much different from how she normally does, but she definitely blushes and sighs a lot more every time she thinks of philip.  also loves to talk about him, please ask her about her man.

when did you character last have sex?  ... never 👀

what sort of sex do they have?  none lmao

has your character ever been in love?  OH YEAH

have they ever had their heart broken?  yes, but it wasn’t his fault.

CONFLICT

how do they respond to a threat?  by keeping composure and trying to reason with the person.

are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?  tongue !

what is your character’s kryptonite?  her loved ones, children and animals.

if your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?  a letter from her aunts, which they gave her before she came to elias.

how do they perceive strangers?  as something she has to be on the lookout for despite nothing they’re not always dangerous.

what do they love to hate?  cold weather. 

what are their phobias?  being alone in a large crowd/surrounded by unfamiliar people, losing her loved ones, being in a completely unfamiliar situation. 

what is their choice of weapon?  words, but i think aurora would secretly love to learn how to use a sword. Let Her Fight.

what living person do they most despise?  i guess the easy answer would be maleficent, but aurora really holds no hatred towards her. if anything, she sympathizes.

have they ever been bullied or teased? no.

where do they go when they’re angry?  wherever there’s lots of flowers and warmth.  or to philip.

who are their enemies and why?  maleficent, and that’s because of her father’s clownery !

WORK, EDUCATION & HOBBIES

what is their current job? n/a.

what do they think about their current job? n/a.

what are some of their past jobs? n/a.

what are their hobbies?  dancing (she’s been learning ballet in elias! ), singing, gardening / caring for her flowers, reading.

educational background?  homeschooled by the good fairies, i’d say she has a good grasp on history, mathematics and a few languages, plus other things she’s learned on her own.

intelligence level? slightly above average.

do they have any specialist training? no.

do they have a natural talent for something?  singing !  she’s very gifted when it comes to music and dancing, but singing is definitely where her talent lies.

do they play a sport? are they any good? nope, and no, but she could be !

what is their socioeconomic status?  despite still leaving a fairly common life in elias, aurora is a princess, so she is extremely wealthy. her family is in charge of her expenses in elias, yet she doesn’t spend a lot.

FAVORITES

what is their favorite animal?  she loves all fauna, but bunnies and birds hold a special place in her arms.

which animal do they dislike the most?  crows. for some reason they give her a bad vibe, though she likes birds.  snakes and dragons also make her shiver.

what place would they most like to visit?  honesty ... her home lmao.

what is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?  sunrise !  aurora loves waking up in the morning and watching the sky’s pretty colors.  she also adores sunset.

what is their favorite song?  love dance by sergei perkofiev,  fee des lilas by tchaikovsky, quelqu'un m'a dit by carla bruni, moon river by audrey hepburn.

music, art, reading preferred?  all sorts of music but espeically clasical and old love songs. she loves classic literature, but also mystery and romance novels, and her favorite art movements would be romanticism and renaissance.

what is their favorite color? pink ,  but don’t tell merryweather !

what is their password?  briarrose59

favorite food:  i feel like aurora would absolutely love pasta if she tried it.

what is their favorite work of art?  springtime by pierre-auguste cot

who is their favorite artist? jean-honoré fragonard

what is their favorite day of the week?  wednesday 

POSSESSIONS 

what is in their fridge?  a number of juices, some fruits like watermelon and strawberries, milk, ice cream.

what is on their bedside table?  a lamp,  lavander oil, a difuser , perfume bottle and a novel

what is in their car?  doesn’t have one !

what is in their bin? paper bags, crumbled up paper balls, a couple of candy wrappers 

what is in their purse or wallet?  a credit card, some dollar bills and she always has a coinpurse around, just in case.

what is in their pockets? i think some seeds for birds to eat.

what is their most treasured possession?  a gold necklace with a heart pendant, the letter the good fairies gave her.

SPIRITUALITY

who or what is your character’s guardian angel?  OK LETS GO. i would say the good fairies or thackery are her guardian angels, but if i had to name an actual angel, i think it would be chamuel.

do they believe in the afterlife?  yes, she believes everyone that leaves is going somewhere else.

what are their religious views?  she doesn’t really follow any religion in particular, but believes a lot in karma and in the whole “do no harm but take no s***”, “treat others as you want to be treated” way of life.  she does, however, believe in a higher power.

what do they think heaven is?  a place where there’s no sadness, no pain, no evil. somewhere where there’s nothing but love and joy and people are able to live in eternal bliss.

what do they think hell is?  a place where people who hurt others and lived a selfish life learn from / are punished for their mistakes and hopefully become better. maybe one day they’ll reach heaven.

are they superstitious?  a little ,  but not to the point where it clouds her judgement .

what would they like to be reincarnated as?  a bird or a beautiful flower .

how would they like to die?  peacefully ,  before philip ,  hopefully in her sleep and surrounded by her loved ones 

what is your character’s spirit animal? a swan or dove

what is their zodiac sign?  pisces 

VALUES

what do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?  i think lying/keeping someone in the dark all their life as was done to aurora is something she would never want anyone to go through. that and betrayal. 

what is their view of ‘freedom’?  to be able to follow your dreams without fear or worries, to live the life you want.

when did they last lie?  she doesn’t lie !

what’s their view of lying?  incredibly wrong and hurtful. please don’t lie to her.

when did they last make a promise?  not sure.

did they keep or break their last promise?  she always keeps her promises.

DAILY LIFE

what are their eating habits?  she’s very healthy, eats all her greens and fruits and veggies, but will allow herself to indulge in sweets every other week. aurora grew up healthy, but there’s a lot of delicious food in elias and out in the world, and she would like to try it all !

do they have any allergies?  she’s allergic to a few metals, which results in all of her jewelry being real gold. 

describe their home.  i suck at words so here’s a few pictures that i think fit the vibe of her home !  bedroom / bathroom / random wall / kitchen / corner of living room  

are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder?  minimalist !

what do they do first thing on a weekday morning?  shower !

what do they do on a Sunday afternoon?  she usually goes for strolls around town, the library or mama odie’s for a nice snack !

what do they do on a Friday night?  relaxing bubble bath and netflix, no joke

what is the soft drink of choice?  none

what is their alcoholic drink of choice?  she doesn’t usually drink alcohol, but isn’t opposed to a bit of wine

MISCELLANEOUS

what or who would your character dress up as for halloween?  i can definitely see aurora dressing up as titania or a fairy of sorts.

are they comfortable with technology?  it was a bit difficult at first, but now she’s much better at it !  still messes up quite a bit though.

if they could save one person, who would it be?  i think philip, since the fairies probably wouldn’t need her help.

if they could call one person for help, who would it be?  in elias, probably thackery and if not him, philip. however, if she’s panicking, philip will probably come first. 

what is their greatest extravagance?  she has a

what is their greatest regret?  doubting her family’s concern for her even if for just a split second, as well as arguing with the fairies.

what is their perception of redemption?  she thinks everyone deserves a chance at it.

what would they do if they won the lottery?  charity.  everything goes to charity.

what is their favourite fairytale?  steadfast tin soldier.

what fairytale do they hate?  the little match girl, for it just makes her cry a lot.

do they believe in happy endings?  absolutely !

what is their idea of perfect happiness?  to be surrounded by people who love you just as much as you love them.

what would they ask a fortune teller?  if her family and kingdom will be alright , and if maleficent will change for the better.

if your character could travel through time, where would they go?  i think the day of her baptism, just to see what really transpired.

what sport do they excel at?  i feel like she could be very good at tennis, equestrianism and fencing !

what sport do they suck at?  i can’t see her being good at anything that overly relies on strength, as aurora is too graceful and delicate. she legit doesn’t wanna do anything that’s too brutal or something.

if they could have a superpower, what would they choose?  to fly or to properly speak to animals.  maybe shapeshifting / changing her appearance so as to hide with easy could be helpful.

[littlemixnet]

Little Mix on what it takes to survive being the most bullied band in pop

Still teenagers when they were catapulted to fame, superstardom came at a price for Little Mix. They open up to Francesca Babb about the soaring highs and crashing lows of the past nine years. It is the end of our YOU cover shoot, and I am facing the lesser-spotted sight of a barefaced Little Mix. Wet wipes swipe back and forth across their faces and, as the foundation departs in a deluge of coffee-coloured tissues, Jesy Nelson and Leigh-Anne Pinnock, both 29, and Jade Thirlwall and Perrie Edwards, both 27, visibly relax into their tracksuits and boyfriend jeans, shoulders dropping as they settle into themselves. I’m so used to seeing them contoured and camera ready that I assumed full glamour was their happy place. But perhaps the real Little Mix are not the war-paint-and-leotard-clad pop stars we’ve spent almost ten years watching grow up, but rather the four women they have become behind the glare of the spotlight. It’s those four women that I’m intrigued to meet. Since winning The X Factor nine years ago, there have been highs – selling over 50 million records globally, a significant percentage of which were self-penned, and creating enough accompanying make-up lines and merchandise to keep them and their families comfortable for the foreseeable future (recent reports suggest they have earned a combined £28.5 million to date). But there have also been lows – perpetual picking apart by both the public and the press, bullying and vitriol from online trolls. The most extreme cases of which led Jesy to attempt suicide during Little Mix’s early days in 2013 (she regards a tweet from the controversial Katie Hopkins – ‘Packet Mix have still got a chubber in their ranks. Less Little Mix. More Pick n Mix’ – as the ‘pinnacle point’ for her depression) and pushed Perrie into an ongoing struggle with anxiety. Fame has changed them. In some ways they are still youthful and silly – dropping phrases into conversation that wouldn’t be out of place in a playground – yet, in others, they are wise beyond their years, diving headfirst into battles on feminism, race and mental health. They’re fun enough to be light relief, smart enough to inspire a generation struggling with the pressures of youth and social media even before a pandemic was thrown at them, and ballsy enough to leave Simon Cowell’s record label because they didn’t feel he had their best interests at heart. ‘It’s never really been a cruise, has it?’ Jade ponders, a copy of social activist Bell Hooks’ 2002 feminist theory Communion: The Female Search For Love in her hand (not for show, I might add; when I ask her about it, she is well versed in its content). ‘It’s either been a really big high, or a really big low.’ Jesy, who has found herself the target of some of the cruelest contempt from the world outside Little Mix, agrees: ‘Some of the best times, some of the worst times.’ Comments on her weight, her looks, her place in the band, comments that she should take her own life, all led her into a deep depression and the aforementioned suicide attempt. Her documentary last year, Jesy Nelson: Odd One Out, revealed her journey through it all and, while harrowing, it is essential viewing on the realities of growing up in a world dominated by social media. ‘Before we got in the group, I never looked at myself and thought, “I don’t like that” – I don’t think any of us did. I never thought, “Oh god, I’m fat”, and then we got in the industry, and we all started wanting to change things about ourselves. It’s so sad. There are things [in the past] I definitely wish I hadn’t done,’ she says, referring to the suicide attempt, in which she took an overdose after a two-year battle with depression and an eating disorder. ‘But would I be the person I am today if I hadn’t gone through all of that?’ ‘There was a time when it was worse than it is now,’ adds Leigh-Anne, who has increasingly used her own Instagram channel to vocalise her experience of racism, both overt and underlying, throughout her time in the band. ‘I guess we’re taking steps forward, but I fear for my [future] daughters…’ ‘It makes me not want to have a kid,’ agrees Jesy. ‘Those insecurities that we all have now because of social media, imagine having that embedded in you as a child?’ Before you write them off as four very lucky girls ungratefully complaining about a lifestyle so many dream of, I should point out that they are fully aware of the paradox of their privilege. I suppose the point is, it’s not too much to ask to not be bullied to the point of hospitalisation as a by-product, is it? ‘Little Mix has changed our lives for the better, and our families’ lives, and we have achieved so much,’ says Perrie. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ agrees Jesy (a warning I will hear repeatedly throughout our hour together, perhaps thanks to almost a decade of their quotes being blasted out of context for click-bait). ‘I’m not going to sit here and say we’ve got a terrible life, because we haven’t, but I do think our innocence was taken from us.’ It’s a while since the girls last did any press. Lockdown saw a halt to any activity they had planned, including the launch of their new talent show, BBC1’s Little Mix: The Search (in which they, well, search for a new band to mentor and join them on tour). But the time apart has not diminished their ability to finish each other’s sentences and jump to each other’s aid. It has, it seems, been really rather good for them and allowed them to come back fired up for the release of their sixth album, Confetti, which came out this week. ‘It was needed,’ agrees Jesy. ‘We’re never not with each other and we’re always busy. Our mornings start early, we finish really late.’ Being at home has meant more time spent with their families, with Jade even starting her own show on MTV with her mum Norma. Called Served!, the self-filmed series saw the pair interview celebrity drag queens and challenge each other to cooking competitions. ‘I love drag culture,’ she says, ‘and me mam was by herself in lockdown, so I thought it’d be something nice to keep her entertained.’ ‘Your mum could be on Loose Women,’ Leigh-Anne muses. ‘Imagine our mams on a show!’ shrieks Jade. ‘Nobody else would get a word in edgeways with my mam,’ laughs Perrie. ‘Ooh, when Debbie goes off on Twitter,’ says Jade, of Perrie’s mum’s habit of weighing in on comments from haters. ‘My mam will text me, have you seen Debbie’s been going off on someone!’ It is interesting that all four talk frequently about their mums throughout our chat, and yet there is no mention of fathers. While their mums often appear on Instagram, a sighting of Perrie’s dad on her 23rd birthday was extremely rare. Perhaps the Little Mix dads’ absence in the narrative is because the four girls were predominantly raised by their mothers (all of their parents separated when they were younger), and another reason the group’s bond is so tight. Little Mix are each other’s wall of arms, their own personal bodyguards. Jesy, they unanimously agree, is Scary Mix (although I find her a delight), which is interesting given her own inability to bat off other people’s words. ‘When it’s you on your own dealing with something personally,’ Jesy says, ‘It’s completely different. You feel so vulnerable alone, but we are a force when we’re together.’ It’s not hard to see, in today’s social-media obsessed society where there is little retribution for cruelty, why four attractive, successful young women, with attractive, successful young boyfriends (two footballers – Perrie dates Liverpool’s Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, Leigh-Anne is engaged to Watford’s Andre Gray – while Jade is with Rizzle Kicks singer Jordan Stephens and Jesy is going out with Our Girl actor Sean Sagar), who seem to be living a dream life have found themselves at the heart of a whirlwind of vitriol. There was the infamous spat with Piers Morgan, in which he mocked them for posing naked but for the insults that have been hurled at them painted on their bodies. He accused them of using sex to sell records and called them ‘foul-mouthed, talentless, clothes-allergic little dimwits’, which is not how I find them to be. ‘I take Piers with a pinch of salt,’ Jesy says, rolling her eyes. ‘He does it to cause drama, so I take no notice. When we won The X Factor, we didn’t look like a generic girl band: we’re all different shapes and sizes, we didn’t dress sexy, so immediately everyone was, “What’s this?”’ ‘Usually, when you see a girl band, they’re perfection, they have six-packs – and we didn’t,’ continues Jesy. ‘People saw us as kids, so even though we’re now women, people still think of us that way, so when we come out on stage in leotards, they think, “That’s disgusting!”’ ‘One Direction didn’t get the s**t we get, because they’re men,’ states Leigh-Anne. ‘It’s like, “They’re four girls, let’s come at them”. As soon as it’s girls, they think, “Oh you slag.”’ ‘When it’s men, it’s celebrated, but the minute women sexualise themselves and feel powerful doing it, we’re told to rein it in,’ adds Jade. ‘We’re conditioned to think that women are there to be these innocent and pure beings and the minute you step out of that, it’s carnage.’ Little Mix, however, are not scared of embracing that carnage and of sparking a debate. For their show The Search, Jade describes how it was important for them to set the tone on respect when each new person auditioned. ‘Because we are small women, it’s important to show people that they need to respect us, that we know what we’re talking about and we need to be listened to,’ she says. ‘There’s no nastiness,’ continues Jesy about the show, which has been praised for modernising and freshening up the age-old TV format. ‘There’s no making anyone feel uncomfortable for entertainment.’ They also insisted a large part of their budget be dedicated to looking after the contestants’ mental health, understanding, first hand, the pitfalls of talent shows. The Search is not their first attempt at diversifying their talent. As a group, they have LMX make-up line and also a perfume, Style By Little Mix. Subsequently, they have become expert businesswomen, refusing to make the mistakes of pop groups past, so often left completely penniless at the end of their careers. ‘I remember walking into an early label meeting and saying, “This is who we want to be, this is the campaign we want, this is the imagery we want,”’ says Jade. ‘We knew our brand from the get go and we very much steered that ship.’ It’s a long way from their (as Jesy puts it) ‘working-class backgrounds’. Since joining the band, each one has bought their mum a house and, while their tale is not entirely rags to riches, the jump from Primark to Prada in recent years has certainly been significant. When it comes to business, Perrie describes herself and Leigh-Anne as the ones who will often seek a compromise in difficult situations, while they send Jesy and Jade in when deals need to be made. ‘Jesy’s the badass,’ Perrie laughs. ‘Whenever I’m scared, I’ll stand behind her. She’s the one who puts her foot down in a boardroom full of men and says, “It’s going to be this way.” But we pick our battles. We don’t just argue about every decision – it’s when we feel we have to.’ ‘Nobody could say that we are difficult, and if they do, they’re lying,’ says Leigh-Anne adamantly. Adds Jesy: ‘We know what we want, and we know what kids want.’ Little Mix have lived over a third of their lives in the spotlight. They’ve seen how things work, how things don’t, and they’ve learnt how to cope with it all. The lows may have been spectacularly low, but the highs have surpassed any of their expectations. Their story is not your classic fairytale, but it’s one they have learnt they can write their own ending for. If the Little Mix I meet today is anything to go by, I wouldn’t expect that ending to come any time soon. Little Mix’s new album Confetti is out now. Their movie LM5: The Tour Film will be in cinemas nationwide on 21 and 22 November.

[cockasinthebird]

ahhh grats on the milestone!! also holy shit youve got 500 prompts stored away somewhere??? im gonna go with my favourite number combo..... 317 👀 im super excited to see what you come up with!! 💖 -bbsitterpng

@babysitterpng  Thank you so much!!! And yes, 500 goddamn prompts, all carefully curated, only the best for my beloved mutuals and followers!!

I got SO ELATED when I saw that you sent me a mystery prompt request!!!! ❤️💕 I would have finished it yesterday, but I got uhhh distracted 😏😏😏

317. “I think you’ll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again and again and again; I knew exactly what I wanted to write for this immediately, and while I worry the exposition seems too rushed, I am very satisfied with the rest, all near 4k words!

So please, enjoy~

-

Today has been a long day that started when the sun had barely found its place in the sky.

Neil was beating at his bedroom door, asking why it’s locked, threatening to kick it down, demanding that Billy get up right now to mow the lawn, just to complain about what a shitty job he did after, shouting about how he has to do everything himself.

Billy would beat his pillows, lift weights till his muscles hurt, and smoke like a chimney, all to alleviate stress in one way or another.

At 12 Max was leaving to go play DnD with her little loser friends, ready to skate her way over there, but Billy needed to get out of the house, have a valid excuse, and it doesn’t get better than “watching out for his little sister.”

They’re on good terms now, after they had gotten in an intense fight and she screamed at him to just leave her and her friends alone, and after not spending every waking hour hating and antagonizing her, she’s not as annoying anymore, and Billy thinks that perhaps his anger was the issue here, not her being a little shit.

That realisation helped him a lot in general. It’s around that time he “apologised” to Harrington the best he could, but when Steve was nice and understanding of his issues, it only made him angry again. Billy doesn’t believe he deserves to be forgiven so easily, no, Harrington should have hit him, defended himself, gotten pissed and told Billy to fuck off.

Instead they wound up at Benny’s diner, sharing a giant plate of fries and a milkshake each.

“My treat,” Steve insisted.

And that’s when old issues resurfaced; the same exact issues that meant they had to leave California. The same exact issues that brought Billy’s wrath upon this pretty boy. The same exact issues that led one thing to another, and now Billy knows the route from his house to the Harrington Mansion like the back of his hand; could drive it with his eyes closed now.

But he doesn’t want to seem needy or clingy. Doesn’t want to be what he is - the way he is.

So after dropping Max off at the Wheeler’s house, the fiery redhead even going as far as to offer him a bit of a smile, he didn’t go home. Didn’t drive to Steve’s house either no matter how much he wanted to.

Don’t be needy, don’t be clingy. You’ll see him later.

So for four hours he drove around town, smoked by the quarry, got admired at a gas station when he refilled, passed Steve’s street far too many times, went to the empty pool that’s closed for the year and sat with his feet over the edge and smoked some more, restlessly kicking the tiling. Over the course of this time he checked his watch at least a billion times.

When it was finally 4pm, he drove to pick up his sister and El - the gang having managed to convince both Steve and Billy to take them to the movies to watch the last screening of The Neverending Story, which doesn’t exactly sound like something he wants to watch, but knowing Steve will be there, he agreed all too readily.

And as he pulls back up to the Wheeler’s again, he sees the brown BMW, Steve leaning against the door as he waits for the boys to pile into his car. Billy’s heart is beating like a painful drum in his aching chest, and when Steve sees him sitting and waiting for the girls, he smiles at him and waves.

Billy is as always astounded and breathless by the way Steve smiles, the way Steve looks at him now, like he’s happy to see him. He can’t smile back, he wants to, but his face feels dull and incapacitated. He wants to just kick open his car door, stomp up to Steve and fucking kiss him. Instead he simply waves back.

Then Max breaks the trance as she pulls open the door and crawls in to sit in the back with El.

“What the hell took you guys so long, I’m starving,” Billy complains as he looks over his shoulder at them.

Max is smart and doesn’t answer, and Billy is smart and doesn’t ask again. No he remains quiet as they follow the beemer, Max and El laughing loud and joyous behind him like girls their age do, talking about shit he doesn’t care for, just focuses on the car in front as they drive to Benny’s diner for early dinner before going to wolf down popcorn at the cinema.

-

The gang is eager and excited, like kids should be, running to the diner as they talk all too frantically about whatever it is kids talk about, Billy is really not paying attention, when Steve is right there.

“Find a booth where we can all sit!” Steve shouts after them, and Billy’s not sure if they heard him at all. “Hey Hargrove, got a smoke?” his voice kinder and friendly, too friendly, as he addresses Billy.

Steve leans against the hood of the camaro, smiling all too wide. He’s dressed in high waisted jeans and a red crop top that shows just enough of a midriff for it to be too much for Billy.

He takes up a spot next to Steve, just far away enough for it to not be suspicious, but absolutely too far away for it to not be enough, yet even from here he can smell the floral soap and honey shampoo. Can’t help but think of how soft Steve’s skin is, how silky his hair is, all newly washed and clean of him. Wonders if the purple hickeys are still visible across his chest, up his thighs.

Even though Steve is trying his best to meet Billy’s gaze, he refuses to look at him just in case it would be too obvious what he’s thinking about, as he unwraps a fresh pack of Marlboro and offers one up.

When Billy ignites his lighter and reaches forth, Steve touches his hand, holds it steady as he leans in to bring his cigarette to the flame. There’s a burning sensation where his pale, soft hand connects them, and when Steve dares rub Billy’s wrist with his fingers, there’s a pain shooting through his heart, a sharp wanting for more. No, a need for more. He’s caught staring at those pretty, pink lips when Steve pulls away and exhales a cloud.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a wry smile, clearly aware.

“You know damn well ‘what’s wrong’,” Billy snaps a bit harsher than intended as he continues to force himself to look away.

Thankfully Steve takes it well and huffs a laugh filled with smoke.

They end up in silence after that; the comfortable kind that comes from being at peace together, easy and relaxed and pleasant, one where they don’t need words because there’s no longer any doubt between them. Perhaps that’s what love is, as cheesy and gross as that may be, Billy ponders. To be able to just exist together without it being awkward or stilted. Perhaps he’s fallen a bit in love with his ex-rival. Or perhaps he’s just in love with how he feels when he’s with Steve, both physical and not.

It isn’t till Steve finishes his cigarette, drops it on the asphalt and stomps it out, that he speaks,

“Oh, I almost forgot, I wanted to tell you something.” He’s smiling like the cat that got the cream, licking his lips a bit too slowly as he goes to whisper in Billy’s ear, “I think you’ll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Billy’s heart skips several beats at that, before then going too fast - rapidly pumping blood through him, and there’s a certain rush of it going straight to his dick. He stares too long into those deep, dark eyes, mischievous and satisfied with the response as Billy short circuits.

“What?”

Steve shrugs and tips his head to the side a bit, acting all innocent and oblivious, lips drawn tight in a smile that goes from ear to ear. He opens his mouth and takes a long inhale, insinuating that he’s about to say something, then simply turns around, hands in his pockets as he walks towards the diner.

Leaving Billy behind, baffled, astonished, dumbfounded.

-

The next two hours feels like days.

They sit in the diner, Billy and Steve across from one another.

The kids are still as energetic as before, their voices a jumble of words and phrases and retellings of DnD from today’s session. Steve chews on his straw as he tries to follow along with whatever they’re talking about, laughing when they laugh, nodding on occasions. Whenever he looks over at Billy, blue eyes flee to stare out the window instead, finding great interest in the pattern of how one street light flickers.

Before the movie starts, they go to let out water by the urinals of the cinema, Billy standing right next to Steve, having hoped to catch a glimpse, see if he’s telling the truth, the urge near irresistible to just take a quick look, but the other men around them might not take too kindly to something like that.

And during the movie they sit together at the end of the row.

Steve, Billy, Max, El, Mike, Will, Dustin, Lucas.

He didn’t care for the movie before, only going along as a sign of friendliness and to have an excuse to not be home, but now. Now he’s almost hating having to sit here, next to Steve, shoulders nearly touching, shoes pressed together on the dark floor, only an armrest between them.

For the first twenty arduous minutes, Steve doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything, showing no sign of registering how near they are, just watches the movie in silence with a smile, while Billy is sat next to him, burning up despite his shirt being unbuttoned as always, mind racing with thoughts and images of Steve Steve Steve.

So distracted by all of that, that he nearly jumps when Steve touches his hand. Same softness and tenderness from earlier on the parking lot, the way Steve always touches him with just a hint of hesitance when they’re not completely alone.

But the cinema is dark, the kids are entranced, and there’s barely a handful of people besides them, so maybe it’s safe enough.

Billy raises his fingers into the touch, thinking that Steve wants to hold hands, intertwine them, any of that stupid romantic shit that he loves and Billy pretends to only barely tolerate, but the touch moves past that, a feather across the back of his hand, up to gently and carefully grab him by the wrist.

At that, Billy finally looks down, keeps facing the big screen but pays acute attention to what Steve is doing, where he’s leading his hand, placing it on his knee, Billy’s fingers in between spread legs. He continues to guide the hand further up, towards the heat of where his thighs meet, effectively sending Billy’s heart rate sky high.

When he finally turns his head, he finds Steve staring right back, a small and restrained smile, and in that moment, Billy feels like he can read Steve’s thoughts, knows exactly what’s on his mind, never doubts it for a second, and is proved right when Steve stands up and climbs over the seat to walk along the empty row behind them.

Billy whips around to Max, and hisses out, “We’re going for a smoke, don’t fucking go anywhere.”

“Yeah yeah,” she groans all indifferent and waves him away, eyes big and caught in the movie.

-

The bathroom at the Hawk is as clean as it ever gets, and perhaps not too shockingly, empty. Movies are running and people are seated.

Steve stands looking at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, not that it looks any different to Billy now than before.

He takes heavy steps towards the brunette, announcing himself and catches Steve’s eyes in the mirror, watching as Billy approaches and steps behind him. Billy leans in to run his nose up Steve’s neck, inhaling deeply and humming out pleasantly, blinking slowly as he keeps pressing his face into the crook there, not quite kissing yet.

Eyes dart back to the mirror where heavenly blue meets chocolate brown, a feverish intensity there as Steve stares back. Gently, but with no hesitation, Billy snakes his arms around Steve’s waist, past the belt and up to touch where skin shows between jeans and the top.

When there’s no ‘stop’, he keeps going, curls his fingers around the red fabric and lifts up, exposing Steve’s chest to the both of them in the mirror. Bitten and marked, purple and red, Billy eyes his masterwork with an appreciative gaze, and with one hand keeping the shirt away, he moves the other up to graze his fingers across each little bruise his lips left just two days ago.

Steve hums a bit, erotic and turned on, and if more were to happen now, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d found their way together in public. And perhaps that thought strikes Steve just as it does Billy, for he pushes back into him, rubbing his soft ass against where he finds a slight bulge already.

“Fuck, Stevie…” Billy huffs and breathes against Steve’s neck, eyes closed as he relishes in the slow friction, kissing sloppy and half-minded against pale skin. “You really wanna do this here? Where the kids could just walk in any moment?”

“I would have maybe pushed you into a stall first,” Steve laughs, a slight stutter to it. “But I was thinking your car? The movie is like two hours, we could find an alley, park there, let me ride your cock?”

A growl escapes by the enchantment of those words, and Billy bites into Steve’s neck, earning him an illicit little hiss and smirk.

“How am I supposed to say no when you put it like that?”

-

Neither of them feel particularly bad for just abandoning the gang like that, but they’ll be quick, hidden in this alleyway, not too far away from the theatre, a bit of fun while the others gawk and gape at the magic of movies.

But it’s hard to be remorseful, when Steve is moaning like this, Billy two fingers deep in him in the driver's seat of the camaro.

Steve didn't lie about going commando today; told Billy, “When I found out you were tagging along, I hoped I’d get to have you alone like this.”

It took Steve less than two seconds to start getting undressed when Billy turned off the engine, whereafter he crawled right onto his lap, hard and bottomless, knees over Billy’s shoulders, feet locked behind the headrest, back against the steering wheel. 

“Ah-h, mmh, fuck, Billy-” he whines, hands placed firm on Billy’s legs for support as he lifts and angles his ass to allow Billy access with lubed up fingers.

His other hand squeezes Steve’s leaking prick, using the precum to slick up the flesh, keeping him hard and crying like that. His own lonesome cock aches where it lies full against his stomach; the button down having been opened completely to avoid staining it, and giving Steve something to admire.

“Billy, please, just- oh- just fuck me already!” Steve’s voice pitched high with lust and impatience, brows drawn together, his arms shaking underneath his own weight.

“Just don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” Billy purrs.

He watches with great interest as he pumps two fingers in and out of Steve’s wet hole, making a scissoring motion to stretch him properly.

“Mmh, we don’t exactly have time for that, and I need you so bad,” Steve says with the sweetest, most alluring tone he can.

And God if that doesn’t go straight to Billy’s twitching dick.

“You sure?” He wants to double check anyways.

“Yes- yes! Just- get a condom, I don’t wanna ruin my favourite pants.”

Billy chuckles lightly at that thought as he leans to reach for the glovebox, absolutely turned on by the idea of Steve walking around brimming with him, his cum dripping out and running down his thighs. Perhaps another time.

The condom rolls on with ease, Billy having become quite the expert with one through time, but he has been getting a lot of practice lately what with Steve and his more adventurous side, and wearing a rubber when fucking in public makes for an easy and quick cleanup. He gives himself a few good strokes to lube up good and nice, ensuring that Steve gets a smooth ride as he aligns himself with the hole that flutters eagerly to suck him in.

Greedy, starved, zealous, Steve sits himself on that veiny dick, ass fully flush with Billy’s hips, breathlessly gasping and cursing around his name, “Fuck Billy…”

“Mmmh,” Billy hums and licks his lips, staring down with adoration at how he’s buried deep inside of Steve’s ass, tight with lack of preparation, but- “You feel so good baby, taking my cock so well.”

He brings his hands to grab Steve by the hips and guide him in a circular motion, muscles clenching around him that can only be described as beautiful, eliciting groans and causing him to dig in his nails.

Steve’s panting, bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat, the windows fogged up, telling anyone that would walk by exactly what was going on, and when he lifts up to fuck himself on Billy’s fat erection, they shake the entire car with his fervor; each time he sinks down he moans more; moans with less and less self control.

“Take off your shirt, pretty boy,” Billy drawls out and swipes his tongue across shiny and sharp teeth. “Wanna see you.”

It’s a hurried motion that takes less than three seconds for Steve to yank off the crop top and grab on to Billy’s knees again, refusing to wait even one moment in the haze of his neediness. 

Billy, however, faced with marks of his own making, takes time to appreciate how perfectly purple suits Steve’s pale skin, blooming across his pecs, his tits, near nipples that strut now, begging to be touched. And who is he not to oblige. Hands travel up from hips, past the waist, to Steve’s chest - the brunette seemingly lost in chasing his own high, that he doesn’t notice where Billy is going till he presses hard against the sensitive buds.

“A-ah! Fuck, Billy!” And he throws his head back.

Steve’s entire body tenses at that, each muscle flexing and twitching, contracting around Billy’s steely cock, and he can’t help himself but to thrust into the clenching hole, the rim taking a chokehold on the base of his prick. Steve has to bring up a hand against the roof of the car to keep himself from hitting his head, while also giving him the ideal leverage to push down hard, bodies colliding, skin slapping together in a lascivious and erotic rhythm.

“God, you’re such a little slut for my cock, huh baby?” Billy growls like a ravenous wolf as he pounds into Steve, forcing out every little cry and moan, telling him that he’s hitting just the right spot.

“Billy- Billy, ah-a, fuck- fuck-” Steve whimpers and looks down to watch one hand on his hip that pulls him down, another rubbing hard against his nipple. 

“Yeah, harrh, listen to yourself,” and Billy pauses to listen to how Steve mewls, revelling in the fact that he’s the cause of that. “So loud and lewd, baby, calling out my name like that.”

“Billy.”

He’s a confident guy, Keg King and lady killer, and while shit like emotions and feelings stuns him, this brings him alive, lust coiling in his gut, burning hot and white, ramping up to a fever pitch as he fucks with wild abandon into Steve’s wet cunt.

Billy hasn’t bothered masturbating in a good while, no, he saves all of that pent up energy for Steve, to fill him up; desire blinding him to anyone else but his princess.

“Mmhnn- ahh, fuck, Stevie, can’t wait to get you alone tonight,” he says, voice fucked out and perverted, Steve looking at him as he speaks, “Drop off all the little shits and then fuck you into your mattress till you’re a mess, pump you full of my cum.”

Steve’s eyes screws shut tight, mouth wide open as he moans, “Yes, oh God, Billy-”

“Yeah? You want that?”

“Yes! Please! Fuck-” He nods the best he can, hair bouncing.

“You’re such a good little whore for me, princess, so needy for my cock.”

“Billy- Billy please,” Steve croons, all pathetic and close.

“Anything,” Billy responds with fast devotion, a promise that he gladly lives up to, knowing well what it is Steve is begging for, wants to hear him say it anyways.

“Touch me, please, ah-h- I’m so so close, fuck…”

Billy grins wide, so self satisfied it’s nearly disgusting, and he closes his fingers firm around Steve’s slick erection; he gets so fucking wet, leaking profusely, swears it only happens when he’s with Billy like this.

“Just like that, yes! Oh fuck, I’m- ah-”

“Yeah, cum for me baby, wanna watch you- show me what I do to you.”

Billy jerks him off quick and crude, knows how Steve likes it, how he needs it; loves being manhandled, talks about that whenever he’s with Billy he feels small and light.

And Steve cums with a loud and unadulterated moan, stilling his entire body in a tense pose as Billy fucks him fast; slamming quickly against his prostate, hand milking him good till he’s emptied out on his own chest.

It is a glorious thing to watch, a masterpiece of performance only for him, a grand show for a one man audience that Billy gets to relive again and again and again. Steve’s jaw drops as he continues to cry out like he’s a goddamn porn star, overstimulated and loving it.

Billy’s own orgasm is far less showy; a few shallow, brutish thrusts, grunting through gritted teeth, he shoves Steve down onto him hard as his hips stutter through completion, waves of impossible heat pouring out and leaving him a puddle of bliss and euphoria.

Time is lost to them, as they sit like that; Steve’s one leg having fallen between the seats as he went limp with exhaustion, still firmly planted in Billy’s lap, who’s soft and complacent and fucking tired, both of them breathing heavy.

“We should… we should go back…” Steve mumbles with closed eyes.

Billy’s watching the way Steve’s cum slowly slips down his chest, running over his abs and nearing his pubic hair.

“Do we have to?” he eventually manages to ask.

And Steve chuckles at that, the vibrations through his body clenching around Billy’s spent cock and he can’t help the sore “ooh”s and “ahh”s as he tries to pull away from it.

“Sadly we do. Can’t have the kids walk home alone in the dark, besides…” Steve grinds his ass onto Billy’s lap, making him wince in not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but definitely too much. “Think you promised to… fuck me into my mattress?”

[calpops]

into the wind | c.h.

Based on the prompts “can’t you stay a little longer” and “I’ve waited for this moment for a long time”. Calum takes you on a drive away from the record shop and bakery. Star gazing and soft music highlight a night in which you both wish time wouldn’t have to move so fast.

1.6k words

series masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted by anyone else on any platform in any format (translations included).

<< >>

Calum’s car is becoming more and more familiar. The faux leather seats are cool against your skin and the air freshener clipped to the vent pours out artificial sweetness; something akin to vanilla. You relax into the seat and buckle in, you have no clue where you’re headed but trust Calum as he settles behind the wheel. He’s brought you home multiple times now, the drives are always quick but time stands still to finish songs parked along the curb. This time you’re headed somewhere new; destination unknown and heart hammering with excitement at the prospect of being with Calum outside of the usual fray—somewhere other than the confines of his record shop or the bakery.

He puts the key in the ignition and the engine stalls for a moment, you catch the quick blush that reddens his cheeks and look the other way, pretending to be preoccupied with something on the sidewalk. In just a moment the engine hums normally and he’s peeling out of the parking spot, headed for somewhere new with the windows rolled down and the wind a welcome guest.

The music comes on as soon as the car starts and a cassette whirs in the player; an old song you don’t know sounds between you. Calum is lost in the drive and the music and your eyes never leave him. His gaze is on the road and he has a grip on the steering wheel with one hand while the other lays palm up on the middle console. A fleeting thought of it being strategically placed for you crosses your mind and you warm at it but you shake yourself and write it off. Your nose scrunches up as your cheeks heat up and you bite your lip as he takes a quick glance at you. Your eyes avert away from his and land on the road.

“The music okay?” He asks and you nearly jump at the sound of his voice.

“It’s good,” you answer with a smile and let the music take over once more as you both lapse into silence.

You can’t help but sneak more glances at him as you drive through familiar streets. Buildings have always dominated the area, some smaller than others , some older and with more character. The town isn’t small but it is a far cry from a city. Buildings pass in a haze and as you catch another glimpse of Calum from the corner of your eye you find you can’t look away or bite back the smile on your face. He darts a quick look at you.

“What?” He asks; voice low and shy and sparking with nervous energy that crackles like lightning you once ran from—and found refuge from in his record shop.

“Nothing—it’s just—well, you were mouthing the lyrics,” you explain and feel your heart race when he blushes again.

“Oh,” he squeaks out and bites his lip. “Sorry.”

“No, no!” You’re quick to defend and deny whatever bashful or regret filled feelings he might be harboring from your observation. In a brash and bold movement you reach for his still open hand; thankful he hadn’t pulled away. “It was cute.”

He grins again and you wonder if it’s for the touch or the compliment. His fingers press into your hold as he gives you a light squeeze and makes a familiar turn. Trees begin to dot the area, fresh air makes way through the windows and the night brings you a bit further away from the usual rush.

“It’s a habit,” Calum explains. “We always have music playing at the shop. If Ashton’s not in my ear I guess I’m singing along.”

You think back to times you were able to sneak glances through the bay window in the bakery and to the register at the record shop. You recall times when Calum was alone but it seemed like he was speaking to someone—you often thought he might be on a call or taking mental inventory and talking to himself like you were apt to do in the kitchen. Now it makes sense. He was singing along to music that poured through the store. You’d only been in a few times and had a small gauge on what songs he might have been lost in. It makes you warm and wonderous. Lost in an attempt to try to put pieces of him together.

“Do you actually sing?” You wonder aloud, his phrasing of the admission leaving you wanting to know more.

He shrugs and humility dances across his face in red cheeks and a twitching nose. You find it endearing and intriguing. His confidence to sing in the record shop or the car contrasts so brightly against the humbleness of his response. You decide not to push the question any further and instead enjoy the feeling of his hand holding yours.

He makes one last turn and the town park shines in the distance from the headlights. In a moment the car is parked and Calum’s turning to face you with his free hand undoing his seatbelt. Your eyes squint as you try to figure out what’s happening. He doesn’t let go of your hand but his eyebrows raise at your inquisition and you feel your heart flutter. You glance at the park past the rope fence tied off; declaring it’s closed.

“Don’t tell me we’re breaking into the park after hours?” You ask and Calum grins but shakes his head no. You tilt your head and await an explanation.

“It’s the only place in town that doesn’t have a brick wall for a view,” he explains and reaches for his door handle which prompts you to do the same though it means losing contact with his hand.

The loss is cold and so is the night but it’s an enjoyable bite of chills that dance in the breeze as you get out and round the car to meet him at the hood. He taps the car invitingly and eases himself up to sit with plenty of room for you by his side. He offers you his hand again and helps you up; minimal distance separates you now, only the wind able to come between you. His gaze is lost to the lush green of the park and eventually tilts up to the sky that shows more of the stars than anywhere else in town. The night is clear and half a moon stares down at both of you, a sliver of moonlight sharpens his jawline and glints off his dark eyes. Music still plays from the car and for a moment everything is curtained in moonlit bliss and a soundtrack reminiscent of easy love stories.

You don’t know how much time has passed or how many songs have played when Calum inches a bit closer. You’ve been caught in conversation that feels entirely too easy and natural. Shy demeanors and walls come crumbling down when privacy and the calm of the night blankets you both. It’s different than in the record shop, it’s less awkward and rushed than in the bakery. You talk about anything but the record shop and bakery; trying to get to know different sides of each other. Everything is easy and subtle. The weight of his arm finding its way around your shoulders doesn’t feel heavy in the slightest, it’s weightless like the air and fully embracing like a summer breeze. You’re smiling as you lean into him and then you’re fully grinning and laughing as he guides you both back to lay atop the hood and find the stars with careful gazes.

You know it’s getting late but time nearly feels irrelevant when you shift and timidly rest your head against his chest. He welcomes it with an inviting arm holding you a bit tighter and a content sigh falling from his lips that cuts off a story about his dog mid sentence. You hear the way his heart skips a beat and picks back up a bit faster. You warm and he picks up talking again; filling the night with the rest of a story about how he adopted Duke. When the story ends and you lapse into a comfortable lull it’s your turn to sigh.

“It’s getting late,” you realize once more and wish time wouldn’t have to move so fast; wish it could pause like you both did to hear the end of songs at the end of your driveway.

“We should get going,” he replies but his tone harbors on a question that instills an opposing thought in your mind.

“Could we stay? Just a while longer?” You ask timidly, slowly sitting up and leaning on an elbow to meet his stare. “It’s really nice to be away from the rush of things.”

Calum nods and maneuvers to mimic your position. You’re now eye to eye and the rest of the world bleeds away in faded moonlight and distant thumps of music. It’s all replaced by the slight pout of his lips and the gleam catching dark brown as he inches closer. Everything but his hand reaching up to lightly trace your jaw fades away. He leans in and you do too; it’s a whirlwind of a paused moment when lips meet and breath is stolen. Time seemingly doesn’t move as fast when he gently caresses your face as he pulls away in a slow manner.

“Feels like I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time,” he admits and you silently agree; all those days turned to weeks catching glances through the windows and late night drives home adding up to a time that seems much too long to have gone without a kiss.

You lean forward and into the wind again, chasing another kiss and blissful moment created by a whirlwind of stalled time.

<< >>

If you’d like to be added to my tag list just send me an ask!

Tagged: @rosecolouredash @irwinkitten @who-do-you-love-5sos @caswinchester2000 @wildflowergrae @empathycth @malumsmermaid @babylon-corgis @outerspaceisbetterthannothing @mariellelovescupcakes @xhaileyreneex @goth5sos @gosh-im-short @feliznavidaddycal @loveroflrh @findingliam-o @flowerthug @g-l-pierce @talkfastromance4 @cashtonasfuck @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer @wastedheartcth @calumscalm @thesubtweeter @akafeliznavidaddy @myloverboyash @treatallwithkindness @haikucal @wiildflower-xxx @calum-uncrowned @egyptiangoldhood @mantlereid @drarryetcetera @allier59 @megz1985 @idk-harry @dinosaursandsocks @wildflower-cth @idontneedanyone @everyscarisahealingplace @oopsiedoopsie23 @behind-my-hazeleyes27

[ohpretty-baby]

secure

✰ paring: namjoon x reader ; established relationship

✰ genre: fluff

✰ synopsis: “why do you love me?” ; basically namjoon is a big softie for reader 

✰ warnings: cursing like once lmao

✰ word count: 3.5k

today i spent my time thinking about the concept of love and how people love differently. this is the product of that. also yes i was thinking about this bc i was listening to 5sos’ new album, calm.

It was 1 AM. The two of you were sprawled lazily on the new couch you got. Legs and arms were intertwined as you let the hours slip by, your eyes glued to the television screen and your bodies glued onto the soft couch.

Ever since you and your boyfriend of 10 months, Kim Namjoon, had become official, things had just gotten better and better. Wherever he went, success and happiness prospered. Now, you weren’t one to believe in superstitions, but Namjoon was like a good luck charm to you. Whenever he was around you, you were always happy and good things came to you. Namjoon was just good in general, always taking care of you and always showering you with gifts.

In fact, just last night, Namjoon got you that new couch that the two of you were laying down on. Even though he told you he was coming over that night, it was taking him a long time to get to your house. You figured that he was working extra hard at the studio, which also explained why he wasn’t responding to any of your texts.

Unbeknownst to you, however, he actually decided that he wanted to replace that tattered down brown couch you had in your house. He always felt uncomfortable on it. It was too scratchy. You’d always just roll your eyes at his antics, explaining that you couldn’t afford another big purchase like that right now. So he took it upon himself to replace it for you. He had actually left work early in order to find the perfect couch for you. When he reached the furniture store, he ended up getting a white sofa, not really knowing what the difference was, but he was sure that you wouldn’t care since it was so comfy. It was one of those sofas that you could just sink in and lay down in all day.

He still wasn’t responding to any of your texts, so you figured that maybe he wasn’t coming over anymore. And that was okay. You knew that sometimes work demanded a lot out of him and you didn’t want to bother him. To your surprise though, you heard a doorbell ring. You couldn’t really believe the sight before you. Namjoon was standing at the door, with a slick sheen of sweat glossing his skin. A huge box accompanied him, and he greeted you with a grin.

You smiled at the memory, also realizing that Namjoon was in your arms right now. The boy snuggled into your chest, and you unconsciously put a hand up to his brown hair, combing the strands calmly through your fingers. He hummed in delight, tightening his grip on your waist.

Even though you were half his size, Namjoon was always insistent on resting his head on your chest. It made holding your waist easier for him, which also meant he could hold you closer to him. You, of course, found this endearing, and also a good excuse to constantly play with his hair. It was a win-win.

You loved nights like this. Nothing else in the world mattered other than Namjoon and you being together. It was serene and you felt all your anxieties go away. He always felt like he was at home in your arms. Soon enough, both of you would fall asleep on the couch, still snuggled deeply in each other’s embrace. You could tell that Namjoon was getting groggy as his body seemed to reach a standstill and his eyelids drooped down. Before you slept, though, you wanted to see what would happen at the end of the chick flick you two were watching, even though you knew what would happen in the end.

It was just your typical cheesy movie. A selfless, kind girl moves to the city for her new job only to get coffee spilled on her by a playboy. She’s pissed off. He’s selfish. He gets to know her. They fall in love. She learns to love herself and he learns to love other people. No matter how many times this same plot was reused and recycled in countless of movies, you still felt your heart flutter when the boy would profess his feelings for the girl.

That scene was playing. The girl was moving back home due to heartbreak, which was slightly illogical since she had such a good job. You decided to ignore that fact, but chuckled softly at yourself. If Namjoon was awake and watching with you, he would say that and point out how dumb it was. He always wanted to watch action movies when you two were together, but once he saw how cute your face was when you blushed at a romance movie, he never mentioned any movie other than chick-flicks. Eventually, he started liking them too, but he’d never openly admit that to you. You could only tell because he’d start paying attention to the movie more than you at certain points.

It was raining in the movie and the girl had to get gas before her long drive home. You felt your heart race in anticipation for what would happen next. The boy came running to her in the rain, and he shouted for her. She wiped a few tears, trying to keep up her cold front. He then confessed to her, telling her that he never felt the way he did ever before. He told her that she changed him and he couldn’t bear to live without her. The girl then ran into his arms and they kissed in the rain, saying “I love you” over and over again. The background music got louder, letting the audience just experience the two characters’ love for each other.

I love you. You always thought it was such a strange phrase. Not that it was bad, since you were obviously so in love with the boy lying on top of you, but you always thought it was fascinating how heavy those words were. You were constantly cautious about that phrase, only saving it for the person who really mattered.

Namjoon, however, never really put any weight on that phrase. In fact, he may not even remember, due to the countless of times you two have said it to each other, but you can vividly recount the first time he told you that he loved you.

It was a Friday morning in August, and you were on your way to a job interview for an office job at a big tech company you’ve been wanting to work at since forever. You and Namjoon had been dating for one month at that time, and it all felt like a dream.

But right now, everything was a nightmare. You just barely heard your alarm, almost oversleeping. Your hair was extremely messy and even though you tried to keep it in tact by putting it in a nice bun, a bunch of loose strands still appeared. On your way to Namjoon’s car, you accidentally spilled coffee on your skirt. Namjoon reassured you that it wasn’t that noticeable since you were wearing a black skirt and you hoped that he was telling the truth. He also reminded you that you’d be sitting down the whole time, so it shouldn’t be that big of an issue.

While in the car, your hands got even clammier than they were before. You used your phone camera as a mirror in an attempt to try to tame your unkempt hair, but it wasn’t working. You felt your chest go tight, anxiety increasing. Your head went dizzy and you tried your best to breathe as you fixed your appearance. Namjoon picked up on this right away, and he placed a hand on your thigh to draw you out of your panic. You took a deep breath and put your phone away, realizing that you were getting way into your head. He gave you a soft smile and you grabbed his hand and placed it in your own, letting Namjoon’s touch bring you back to earth.

Namjoon squeezed your hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. He stayed quiet, knowing that you just needed things to be quiet when you were freaked out. Any noise would just set you off, so the car ride was silent, save for the soft R&B music playing on the radio.

Soon, your ragged breathing returned to a normal pace, and the knots in your chest went away. You were still a little dizzy, but you could pull yourself together. Then, you had reached the building.

You gave Namjoon a peck on the cheek and unbuckled your seat belt. You stood up from the car, straightening your skirt. Before you could close the car door, however, Namjoon said your name, grabbing your attention.

“I believe in you, Y/N,” He saluted you, showing off that goofy grin you adored so much.

“Thanks, Joon,” You saluted him back, giggling. You were about to close the door but then he called your name again.

“Also, Y/N,” His gaze met yours, and he stared at you lovingly, “You look beautiful today.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” You blushed, fidgeting with a fold in your skirt that was semi dry from the coffee spill.

“I love you,” He flashed you a soft smile, dimples appearing once again. You felt your heart stop and a soft ringing played in your ears.

“I love you too,” You said without even thinking.

And with that, Namjoon drove away to find a parking spot. You stood in front of the building, dumbfounded. Namjoon had just haphazardly threw that phrase at you. And you had just responded with the same recklessness! Your ears went hot at the thought of what just happened. You tried to reason with yourself. Namjoon was a very loving person, so maybe he’s just used to using that phrase right away, and you did love him a lot, so you weren’t lying either. It couldn’t be that bad.

You found out that it really wasn’t that bad. Later on, you’d get your job, and after the interview, you could tell that Namjoon did really love you. Once you got out of the building, you saw him waiting outside of his car, with a bouquet in his hands. You didn’t even know that he had left to buy them for you! Even though you didn’t know the results of your interview at the time, Namjoon was extremely proud of you. You ran up to him and he pulled you into his arms, spinning you in the air and making you both laugh. And from then on, countless “I love you”s were said between the two of you.

“Y/N, baby?” Namjoon croaked out, voice gravelly and scratchy because he had fallen asleep.

“Yeah?” You mumbled in response, finally out of your trance.

“Ah, there she is,” He grinned snuggling his face in the crook of your neck, “You weren’t responding for, like, 5 minutes and you were just staring at the ceiling! I thought I lost you or something.”

“Never,” You giggled, his breath tickling your skin, “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Why do you love me, Joonie?” You asked rather abruptly. The question surfaced on its own, and you didn’t even realize that you had asked that until an uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you. You felt your heart race uncomfortably and dread fill your stomach. Was this it? Maybe Namjoon didn’t really love you, and he was just bored of being alone.

Your thoughts started racing around you uncontrollably until Namjoon pulled himself out of where he was snuggled, hovering over you. He placed a soft kiss on your lips before smiling at you, resting his forehead on yours. You felt at peace, and you let go of the breath you hadn’t noticed you were holding.

“What kinda question is that, dear?” He questioned, chuckling, “I love you because you’re you.”

“I mean, like, don’t you think you said ‘I love you’ way too fast?” You pouted, jutting your bottom lip out, “We were only together for a month when you told me that you loved me.”

“Well, sweetie, if I know I love you, I’m gonna say it right away, so you know,” He answered calmly, and repositioned the two of you so that could now rest your head on his chest and he could play with your hair. You smiled, happy at the warmth emitting from him. The movie had ended a long time ago, and it was you and Namjoon talking in the safe silence of your home. It was most likely 3 AM, and you felt your eyelids droop down slowly. Namjoon held you closer to him, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as you slowly fell asleep.

Namjoon was no longer sleepy since he had already fallen asleep for a little bit. He looked at you endearingly, loving how peaceful you always looked when you slept. He hoped you were having a good dream and he continued to stare at you, thinking about the conversation you two had. What did he love about you?

Well, what didn’t he love about you?

In fact, he was surprised that you thought he said that he loved you so early. Even though you two were together for only a month then, Namjoon felt like he was waiting for forever just to say that to you. He knew that he loved you right when he met you, and he was desperate to get the chance to say it to you.

He knew he loved you when you introduced yourself to him at a café, because he noticed how you’d always fidget with whatever you could get your hands on, whether it be the sleeve of your sweater or the ripped hole in your jeans. He noticed how nervous you were to talk to him, your soft voice trembling as it tried it’s best to carry every word you wanted to say. You didn’t even know why you wanted to talk to him, you just felt drawn in by his stare and you needed to know him. He vividly remembers the first words you said to him.

“Is this, uh, is this seat open?” You said sheepishly, trying your best not to slur the words together, “There’s no more seats open.”

Namjoon, in fact, knew that that was a blatant lie, since there was actually another table open that you could sit at. He found it cute, how you tried your best to find an excuse to talk to him. He nodded to your question, setting his book down as he introduced himself.

“I’m Y/N,” You smiled, and he felt his heart grow in size, “I wanted to talk to you about that book you’re reading, actually.”

Your smile widened once you grabbed your bag and pulled out your own copy of the book he was reading. Before he could even say that this book was one of his favorites, you immediately started rambling about how much you loved the book, a bright twinkle in your eyes.


Right at that moment, Namjoon knew that he loved you.

After that, the two of you hit it off right away, constantly texting each other and meeting up the café or the library in your free time. One time he mentioned to you that his favorite color was purple, he noticed that whenever you were with him, you always had a purple accessory. Whether it be a purple headband, hair clip, earring, or just a purple plush keychain that was attached to your bag, he never knew. It was always a nice surprise when he saw you. He thought it was so cute.

Namjoon felt his love for you grow even deeper once you met his friends. They were a rowdy group of 7, including Namjoon, who were always goofing off when they were together. They had already known a lot about you, and they were practically dying to meet you. Jeon Jungkook was especially excited. Namjoon constantly talked to Jungkook about you, because everyone else was sick of hearing you. Min Yoongi would always flick Namjoon’s forehead, teasing him for fawning over someone he wasn’t even dating. Kim Seokjin would join in on the fun, and then everyone would slowly join in the teasing fest. They even said snarky comments about you, saying that you were a weirdo for always texting Namjoon whenever you read a new book or if you saw a cute frog on your walk to your house.

But once they met you, everyone immediately retracted their teasing statements about you. When you arrived at Namjoon’s house, you had a surprise for everyone. Namjoon told you quite a lot about his friends on your late night walks through the city. He’d tell you about all the weird things they did and how he thought you’d get along well with them. Well, you really didn’t want to disappoint.

When Namjoon opened the door, he was surprised to see you carrying 7 bags with names written on them.

“I brought everyone gifts,” You giggled, struggling to carry all the bags in your arms, “If that’s okay.”

Before Namjoon could say anything, the 7 boys were already running up to the door, intrigued to see what you looked at. You felt your cheeks turn hot as they took in your appearance and they all greeted you with a smile.

“These are my friends, if you couldn’t tell already,” Namjoon said rather awkwardly, and you could tell that they were all trying so hard not to laugh at him. You smiled, saying hi and introducing yourself to everyone as Namjoon carried your gifts so you could take your coat off and relax.

You passed around the gift bags, which all had a sugar cookie in them and a small trinket of what each boy liked.

“Whoa, Namjoon!” Jungkook was the first to open his gift, and he was extremely excited, “She got me an Iron Man keychain! Look at it! His arms and legs move!”

“Kumamon?” Yoongi brought out the plushie and examined it, a smile appearing on his face, “I don’t have this one yet. Thank you, Y/N.”

“KAWS! A keychain!” Hoseok grinned, showing his gift off to the other members, “Wow, Y/N, I don’t know you and I already like you!”

“Ooh, a new Mario shirt!” Seokjin ran off to the bathroom to change into it right away, “I look good in this. Good job, Y/N.”

Taehyung and Jimin both squealed in delight as they opened their gifts, seeing new copies of the manga that they liked. Everyone found their reaction humorous, laughter filling the whole house.

Even though you were happy and satisfied with everyone else’s reactions, you were dying to see Namjoon’s reaction to his own gift. You nudged at Namjoon, who was sitting next to you, and excitedly bounced your leg up and down in anticipation.

“You should open your gift, Joon,” You pointed to the bag in his lap, and he nodded. Everyone else watched, surprised by the nickname you had given him.

It was a blue pajama set that had his favorite character, Ryan, printed all over it. He flashed a grin at you, remembering that he only mentioned that he liked Ryan maybe once or twice to you. He pulled you into a hug, feeling a warm a feeling in his chest. Everyone grinned at the two of you before teasing Namjoon.

“Oi, Namjoon,” Seokjin snickered, “Are you crying?”

“Shut up!”

Namjoon laughed softly at the memory of that day. He loved how you were always so attentive to the things he said, bringing things up about him that he himself even forgot. He knew that he loved you right from the get-go. Not just because you were pretty, because Namjoon was never nervous around you. His feelings for you weren’t fleeting, like puppy love in high school. He knew that he would love you forever, because he felt secure with you. You tried your best to impress not only, but his friends, who were basically his family. And don’t even get him started on when you met his family. They, like Namjoon, loved you right away and knew that you were a keeper.

His mom even scolded him the next day, telling him that if he lost you she’d never forgive him.

You stirred in your sleep and all of Namjoon’s attention was back on you. You must’ve had a bad dream. He hushed you, cradling you in his arms until you were calm again. It was probably 4 AM. Namjoon took a deep breath of the cold air, admiring your features once again.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you,” Namjoon sighed, heart breaking at the thought. But he knew that he loved you and you loved him, so he wasn’t worried. You were his home, and he was yours. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you, but he knew damn well that he’ll do anything to make sure that you’re still his.

He placed another soft kiss on your head before falling asleep too in the quiet, calm house, where you could only hear Namjoon’s soft breathing with yours.

this made me soft and i would do anything for kim namjoon k bye :,) 

[malereaderoneshots]

Kim Doyoung ; Misunderstandings

Requested?: Yes “hello, hope you’re doing good and staying safe! could you write a doyoung x malereader where doyoung picks on the reader and sometimes the reader bickers back( both in a friendly manner )but once, after a long day, doyoung says something a little too harsh, not really understanding what he said or thinking about how it could hurt the other and the reader starts tearing up a little, brushing it off as being tired but doyoung still feels bad and tries to make him feel better? thank youu!” Pairing: Kim Doyoung x Male reader Word Count: 1565

Despite being a 99 liner Y/N was always found with Doyoung. To someone new it looked like Doyoung hated Y/Ns cheery existence however if the younger wasn't with him Doyoung would sulk and search for the other member until they were joined at the hip again. "I'm surprised you're not bald yet Y/N" Doyoung said ruffling Y/Ns colourful hair. "You're just jealous that I can be colourful and expressive while you're stuck with the same shade." Y/N spat back sticking his tongue out at the older member. Around them Jaehyun and Taeil hid their laugher with a cough. "See they agree!" Y/N cheered a wide cheeky grin spreading over his face, he looked up at Doyoung who rolled his eyes. "Hey, don’t bring us into your lovers quarrel." Jaehyun said, putting his hands up in surrender before him and Taeil retired to their rooms.

Y/N followed Doyoung into the kitchen. As the elder pulled things from the cupboard Y/N sat at the counter swinging his legs back and forth and watching Doyoung. "It’s annoying that they call it a lovers quarrel" Doyoung huffed. "Who?" Y/N asked, "Jaehyun or the phrase in general?" Doyoung turned to look at Y/N resting his weight against the side of the counter looking at Y/N, "all the boys. Have you not heard them? They always say it." Now that Y/N thought about it he had heard the boys say it under their breath a few times, but he didn’t understand why it bothered Doyoung so much. “I couldn't date you.” Y/N looked up to see Doyoung staring ahead, Doyoung spoke again, “for one you’re a colleague and for another you’re too young and hyper.” Y/N closed him mouth, for some reason he felt an uncomfortable weight on his chest and the urge to cry. But instead he forced a laugh, “yeah, I didn't even think about that but looks like you’ve put some thought into it. I just remembered Taeyong wanted to show me something so I should probably go.” Y/N didn't give Doyoung a chance to respond as he was already out of the kitchen by the time his finished his sentence.

Taeyong was chilling on his bed playing animal cross when Y/N entered. "What can I do for you Y/N?" he chirped humming along with the soft music. "I just wanted someone to cuddle while I have a nap." Y/N sniffed already climbing into the bed beside the leader. Taeyong wrapped an arm around the younger member allowing him to rest his head on Taeyongs chest and also watch Taeyong play the game. After a while Y/N broke the silence, "Hyung?" Taeyong hummed in response, "have you ever been in love without realising it?" the older member stiffened slightly. "This is about Doyoung isn't it?" Y/N shot up in a sitting position his cheeks dawning a rosy colour, he opened and closed his mouth a number of times before Taeyong laughed. "You're either alone or with Doyoung so it's a massive surprise that you came to me and now you're asking me about something personal to you which leads me to believe that this is about the one person you're normally with but you can't tell him. Am I wrong?" Y/N pursed his lips together and played with his sleeves creating sweater paws. "Y/N-" Taeyong said before Y/N burst into tears and diving into Taeyongs arms.

Johnny walked into the kitchen and found Doyoung sitting at the counter staring at the wall with an untouched cold coffee resting between his hands. Johnny cleared his throat startling Doyoung, "Where's Y/N?" Johnny asked while going through the fridge. “With Taeyong I think.” Doyoung said, voice void of emotion. Johnny gave him a quizzing look before starting up again, “Okay well Taeyongs just messaged me that Y/N is bawling his eyes out in his arms and to find out what happened so what did you do?” Doyoung looked at him in shock “I didn't do anything!” Johnny hummed before taking a seat next to Doyoung. “Okay,” he said pinching the bridge of his nose, ”Y/N, who is always with you, is currently crying in Taeyongs arms while you’re sat here staring into space with no emotions and a full cup of coffee. Do you see where I'm getting my accusation?” Doyoung sighed and looked his coffee, swirling it around in the cup and watching it, “I said I couldn’t date him for some bs reasons. I don't even know why I said it,” he finally looked at Johnny, tears collecting on his waterline and making his vision blurry, “I don't even know why I said it because it’s not true.” he sniffed and whipped his nose and face with his sleeve. Johnny chuckled, “well do you know what you have to do now?” Doyoung nodded before standing up “I need to apologise” he said confidently. Johnny laughed in response, “you need to more than apologise, I heard he's an absolute mess.” the sinking feeling returned to Doyoung as he rehearsed what he was going to say when he saw Y/N.

Taeyong had managed to calm Y/N down but some silent tears still fell, "Hey-" a knock on the door startled them both, "I'll get it" Taeyong said before opening the door slightly to see whoever it was that was stood outside. "What are you doing here?" Taeyong asked, a bit of anger slipping into the question. Doyoung lowered his head a bit, "I came to see Y/N please." Taeyong sighed before looking at Y/N then back to Doyoung, "I'll ask him" he replied before clothing the door again. Taeyong sat beside Y/N gripping his knee gently, "Y/N? Doyoungs at the door, he wants to talk to you." Y/Ns breath hitched as his bottom lip wobbled and fresh tears raced down his face. Taeyong wrapped an arm around the smaller boy and squeezed him gently, "come on, hear his apology" he coaxed. Y/N sucked in some air before sitting up straight and nodding his head. Taeyong left the bed to open the door "You have 15 minutes to make up or I'm sending the dreamies in to annoy you so much you leave." He joked before closing the door on the two younger members.

"I don’t think he's joking you know." Doyoung tried to joke, rocking his weight on his feet. He looked up at Y/N and a lump quickly formed in his throat. In all the years they had known each other Doyoung had never seen Y/N so dishevelled. His usually styled hair stuck up in random places and was frizzy, and his usually light and happy eyes looked dull and held pain within them. "I'm so sorry," Doyoung started voice breaking. "I don’t know why I said any of that…I guess I was scared of losing you in any way that I tried to get rid of those feelings even if it meant saying something as stupid as that. I've never felt this close to anyone and I don’t want to lose this feeling." The last part came out as a whisper, but Y/N heard clearly and patted the spot beside him on the bed. Doyoung clumsy climbed onto he beds, knocking shoulder with Y/N in the process, the younger boy let out a rough laugh, Doyoung slightly cringed "Would you like some water?" he offered, opening the bottle for Y/N to take.

After downing the whole bottle Y/N leaned his head against Doyoungs shoulder. "Tell me about those feelings you wanted to get rid of." Doyoung tensed lightly and laughed nervously, he played with a loose threat on his sweater trying to think of the right words. "Well…When I'm with you my heart feels like it’s free, like I'm free. Like nobody else's opinions matter but yours. And I look at you and I just want to hold you for the rest of my life and kiss your puffy cheeks and lips in the morning and hold your hand anywhere and everywhere for no reason and all the reasons…But I didn’t want to lose you if you didn’t accept my feelings so I thought it would be best to hide them and try to get rid of them, only that turned out to be the worst way." Doyoung huffed out a laugh and shook his head not believing what his over worrying caused. Y/N lifted his head and turned his head to face Doyoung. "If you now accept your feelings," Y/N looked down quickly to lace their hands together before looking up again and continuing, "do you think you could accept mine?" He asked, looking into Doyoungs eyes. Doyoung nodded wordlessly not believing his ears, or his eyes when Y/N closed his and leaned in slightly waiting for the other to move away or close the gap. Doyoung chose the latter and closed the gap, cupping Y/Ns jaw and tilting it up lightly to deepen the kiss. "Aw come on!" A shout made them jump apart, taeyong stood there with his arms crossed and an amused Johnny leaning against the door. "Not on my bed." the leader whined. Doyoung and Y/N laughed and got off the bed before Y/N grabbed Doyoungs hand and lead them to Y/Ns room. "You have a lot of cuddles and kisses to repay for the pain you put me through." the younger boy laughed before pulling Doyoung into the room and closing the door.

[rufousnmacska]

Submersion

Back in 2018, I wrote a short nessian scene set right before the teaser at the end of acofas - Awakening (trigger warning - self harm, depression). Recently, it showed up in my notes. Then today we got the announcement of the title and release date for the nessian book. I went searching through my drafts and found the companion Cassian pov that I’d written for the scene. It’s been sitting there for two years. 😔

So, in anticipation of A Court of Silver Flames, and for the revived nessian fandom, I’m posting it here. I recommend reading Awakening first.

***Trigger warning - self harm, depression

Cassian had nowhere to go.

The townhouse had been taken over by Mor when Rhys and Feyre moved into the River House. The House of Wind was often overflowing due to the audiences now held each week. Velaris was a bustling city with no place for him to escape prying eyes.

He longed for the mountains, the crisp air, towering evergreens, the entire landscape sure to be frosted over with the change of season. The solitude, the lack of concerned stares and quiet pity … He so desperately wanted to fly home. But he couldn’t.

She was here. And despite everything, he couldn’t leave her. Wouldn’t leave her. No matter how much he wanted to go, no matter how hard she pushed everyone away, he knew Nesta needed help. He just didn’t know how to give it.

A group of children, some high fae, some not, ran past him as he trudged onto a small bridge over the river. The giggles and gentle taunts to continue their race home made him smile. But it was short lived. The scene stood in stark relief to anything he’d see in Illyria, where outsiders were shunned, and the boys and girls rarely played together.

Following in the wake of their joy did nothing to improve his listless steps across the bridge. His mood had been declining for some time and he wondered how much of it was due to Nesta, and how much was due to the problems at the camps. The ever growing discord among the war bands added to his itch to return to the mountains. Cassian found a secluded spot on the bank and sat down heavily, propping himself on bent knees.

It was late afternoon and he wondered where Nesta would be spending her night. How much longer could she continue like this?

How much longer can I, he thought bleakly, only to quickly chastise himself for wallowing. He’d been through worse, succumbed to his own demons and fought them off. How similar those demons were to Nesta’s, he could only speculate. But something told him they were. At least, closer than she could imagine.

How could he convince her that he understood? She wouldn’t speak to him, let alone allow him to speak to her.

Cassian cursed and stood up. Enough. Nesta was beyond him. He was going to fly home before nightfall. With a ferocious flap of his wings, he shot into the air.

Of course his route over Velaris took him directly above her apartment building. Cassian cringed at the shabby appearance. Even from the air, it looked dirty and ill-kept. While he respected Nesta’s desire for independence, admired it even, he couldn’t see the place as anything more than a sign of a troubled soul. As a human, Nesta had been impeccable, never a hair out of place. Being made into a high fae had not changed that. Despite being forced to live as her worst nightmare, she’d maintained that air of propriety, that harsh need for control.

All of that was gone now.

He found himself circling above the building, like some pathetic-

Out of nowhere a sharp pain flared inside him, jerking him from the air. Cassian landed on her roof and spun around, looking for the source of the attack.

But no. He slowly realized no one had shot him. This was Velaris. Its shields were intact, nothing was amiss.

The pain struck again and this time, some basic understanding flickered in the core of his chest. He ignored it, taking to the air and flying down to the street. Within seconds he was at her door, pounding his fist against it.

“Nesta?”

He heard a muffled curse and something clang onto a tile floor.

After a too long silence, he called out, “I know you’re here. I heard you swear.” He was struggling to keep the fear from his voice, trying to force levity into it to hide the shaking.

Cassian continued pounding on the door until he heard the locks begin to turn. His racing heart eased, thanking the mother that he was being let in. He didn’t mean to burst through the entry and when he saw Nesta forced backwards, he lunged to catch her.

But she steadied herself and immediately seemed to catch fire. As she berated him, Cassian glanced down at her arm. The pale skin was marred only by a fading pink arc. Searching her bare skin for signs of other wounds, he realized he’d find none. Her fae nature meant something small like a cut would heal rapidly.

Small, he thought, his insides turning to lead, threatening to pull him through the floor. A small cut. How many others had there been?

His eyes moved slowly to her bathing room, where a nasty looking knife lay on the floor. In a small pool of blood.

It had just happened. Is that why he’d been drawn here?

A small cut. A small pool of blood.

How long before small becomes big?

The thought rang in his ears louder than Nesta’s yelling. His body numb, he barely registered the impact when she shoved him against the door. For a split second, he saw pure terror wash across her face. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared and before he could speak, she’d turned and left him alone. The slam of her bedroom door vibrated through him.

Cassian blinked as if waking from a stupor, the feeling coursing back through every nerve of his body. He thought he might be sick.

That leaden weight within him longed to pull him down and away and ignore it, ignore her, give her space, leave her venomous tongue for some other fool...

Fly home and forget.

She would never ask, never say the word ‘help’.

But the knife, this filthy apartment, the drinking, the males...

It was all part of a scream that they had not heard. Or worse, ignored.

Fly home and forget.

Fly home…

He had to do something. He’d failed her so many times.

With an ache in his heart, he knew if he failed her here and now, it would be the last time. She was destroying herself and was so very close to succeeding.

Cassian strode into the bathing room and grabbed the knife. He made no sound as he left but his mind was roaring. Planning, turning over options, scenarios, phrasing that might compel her.

Unable to bear touching it for long, he threw the knife away as soon as he could, then flew to the River House. He would need Feyre for this, maybe Elain, possibly Amren. It would be difficult, and she’d fight them every step of the way, but he needed to get her out of here. Away from Velaris, away from their judging eyes and the dark vices in which she was trying to drown herself.

The moment Cassian decided to take Nesta with him to Illyria, his siphons had blazed, the lead weight constricting his heart had melted.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to the study and found Feyre reading.

“I need your help.” His voice gave him away. Hell, his face must have too.

She sat up, eyes wide. “Nesta? What happened?”

“Nothing yet. But…” Cassian paused, thinking for the first time how this plan might seem ridiculous. “I want to get her out of here. Take her to the mountains. I think…” He paused, closing his eyes. “If I can get her away from all this, it might help.”

He didn’t elaborate on what he meant, letting Feyre think whatever she wanted. She was his friend and high lady. He loved her like a sister. But despite the cruel words and disdain Nesta used to build her defenses, they’d all failed her. They’d all left her alone to fester in her grief and misery. He was ashamed to admit it, but it had been easier than trying to wrestle with a hellcat in pain.

“What do you need me to do?” Feyre was standing in front of him, eyes full of worry. But also, trust.

“I need you to kick her out of Velaris.”

*****

Thanks for reading!

My fanfic master list (includes links to ao3)

[shipyard98]

Fandom: Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Pairing: Joseph Joestar x Hamon User!Reader

Word Count: 1952

Summary: During dinner that same evening, Joseph lays the flirting and the innuendos even heavier on the reader before “sealing the deal.”

A few more hours of training had come and gone.

For you, it was just another typical day of meditation and basic Hamon training. Absolutely nothing eventful had happened today, besides that one moment of weakness. With that in mind, you expected nothing eventful to happen anytime soon.

The same could not be said for Joseph. That day featured far more work than what was expected of him, as he did four-hundred laps around the lawn rather than the typical two-hundred. This was more than him just preparing to fight the Pillar Men. This was him willingly trying to prove himself to Loggins.

He was ready to go that far and beyond for you.

Now, nobody was quite expecting you to show up to the dining room that night, but there you were. And it was just Joseph’s luck that there was an empty seat right in front of him.

You took your place and faced him.

This was the first time you got to see him without the Ripple-breathing mask, and what a sight he was to behold. Who knew that those lips, which had teased and flirted with you so much, looked so soft and plump? That grin on his face was likely always so cheeky and flirty, but now that you could actually see it, it made your heart race a little.

 Like Hell if you were going to let him in on that, though.

”Joseph Joestar,” you said, smirking at him.

“Looks like we meet again, lo-!”

“Ah, Bellissima!”

His and your attentions were suddenly occupied by another familiar voice.

Sitting next to him was the other young Ripple student on the island, who smiled coyly at you, with his head resting against his hand.

“I see you finally decided to come to dinner,” he continued. “We were just starting to get worried about you. Weren’t we, Joseph?” 

“Hey Caesar!” you said, smiling back at him.

Tension was already rising between you and Joseph, so you were grateful for his interruption. 

Somebody else, on the other hand, was not happy about this at all. As much as he cared for Caesar as a fellow student, how dare he just flirt with you so casually. You two didn’t even look good together! 

All these thoughts in Joseph’s head were made very evident to Caesar when he suddenly felt a needle-like stare pinning holes in the side of his head.

Not being in the mood to start a quarrel with him that evening, the blonde focused his attention on the plates of food being set in front of everyone at the table.

“I must say, the cook really outdid himself this time,” he commented. “This looks like it was made by a professional.”

“Oi, it really does!” Joseph admitted, looking like his usual, excited self. 

Suddenly, he made a complete 180 and looked straight at you, with his eyes hooded just so and his voice bordering on a moan.

“But I bet it tastes even better.”

He gave his bottom lip a little lick.

Your eyes widened and heat rose into your face.

Silence permeated that corner of the room as the two of you just stared at each other, feeling the heat start to rise. That was all you really could do, considering the masters were conversating and eating amongst themselves at the other end of the room.

After all, what would they have thought if the two of you suddenly gave in right there in front of God and everybody?

The third wheel cleared his throat.

“Well, what are we staring at? Master Lisa Lisa didn’t give us this food for our own viewing pleasure. Mangia!”

All three of you simultaneously picked up your silverware and started eating. 

Joseph was right about one thing; it really did taste better than it looked, even though you all knew damn well he wasn’t implying the food. Nevertheless, your compliments were to the chef that evening.

As a side note, the downside to sitting in front of a freed Joseph Joestar was that, now that he knew you had a weak spot for his lips, he was about to use them to their fullest.

“Tell me, love!” Joseph finally said, directing his voice at you. “How was your training today?

“Oh, pretty typical,” you admitted, then you added on with a grin. “Meditation was rather nice, today. In fact, I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m particularly full of energy after that.”

On that last sentence, your hand patted against your breast ever so softly. Judging by one set of eyes now staring at your cleavage, you knew that your own little plan was working.

Two can play at that game.

“What about you, Caesar?” you asked, giving the brunette a moment to plan his next move. “How was your training, today?”

“Well, Messina had me anchored underwater with a large weight today,” he said, using his fork like a pointer. “He said it was to increase the size of my lungs so I can breathe more effectively. Or something like that. Forgive me, I’m a little too tired to remem-… Joseph, what the hell are you doing?”

The sudden interruption led you to shift your gaze from Caesar to Joseph, whose tongue was out and trying to lap up the wine from his cup like a dog.

Outstanding move, Mister Joestar.

“Oh, uhm,” Joseph stammered before immediately regaining his composure. “Forgive me. I think the heat from running four-hundred laps around the lawn today has gone to my head.”

“Are you sure it’s just heat that’s gone to your head?” Caesar mumbled.

You had to cover your mouth to prevent yourself from audibly giggling. That phrase, coupled with the glance he made towards his lower half, was too good.

“Hey now, what are you trying to say?!” Joseph blurted out.

All Caesar did was smirk at his expense.

“Hmph, say what you want,” he said as he turned his head away from his comrade. “I was just about to say that I feel as though I really should practice more Hamon Meditation. Today’s session was... rather motivating.”

“You have about another week of training, don’t you?” you asked, suddenly getting a little more serious. “You’re more than welcome to practice with me at any time, you know. The same goes for you, Caesar. It’ll help the both of you more than you realize.”

The mention of the other guy’s name made a spike of jealousy suddenly fall upon Joseph, and so he had to rectify it immediately.

“Actually,” he blurted out before trailing off into a stammer. “Well, see, there’s not enough time. Loggins makes me practice for hours upon hours. So, well… ah, do you think we could… we could…?”

His concentration was getting hazier by the second. He thought that bringing this up was going to be easier on him, but in this moment, he was getting performance anxiety.

What if you were to say no?

“You want to practice after dinner?” you finished his sentence with a smile. “I would love to!”

Joseph’s mind was screaming and cheering in rejoice at your acceptance.

“When you put it like that,” he said, sliding immediately back into his flirty persona, “It’s like you wanted the same thing! Why, could this be a first date?”

“Oh, you wish, Joestar!” you laughed.

If only you knew what you had just gotten yourself into.

“Right back at you,” he chuckled.

With that said, Joseph stood up.

“Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have a date to prepare for.”

He made his way towards the masters’ table and approached Master Loggins, who proceeded to pull out the Ripple-breathing mask and situate it back over his nose and mouth.

You weren’t going to admit it, but you were a little disappointed to see his lips disappear behind the mask again. On the bright side, you really did have something to look forward to after all the training was said and done.

Before Joseph was out the door completely, he gave you a side glance and winked coyly at you, which made your heart pick up the pace in turn.

With that, he was gone.

Then there were two.

“Well then,” Caesar commented. “That sure was a sight to behold this evening, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your eyes still towards the door.

He took a swig of wine before speaking.

“I would be careful, if I were you.”

Your gaze broke from the door and fell on him.

“What do you mean? I wouldn’t know him to hurt anyone here, let alone me.”

“Oh, no, no, no!” he chuckled. “He’d die before laying a finger on you… But if you ask me, I think he’s up to something this evening.”

“What makes you think that?”

Caesar leaned in closer to you before he elaborated in a lower voice.

“Did you notice how Loggins was whispering in his ear while he was securing the mask back over his face?”

“I noticed, but didn’t think anything of it.”

“You aren’t here for meals all that often, but I am. And after watching the same routine for the past two weeks, I know that Loggins never does that with Joseph. On top of that, Joseph usually gets all fussy about the mask, but tonight, he was rather calm about it…”

“So, what are you implying?”

“Well,” he hummed. “Knowing Joseph, I say he’s planning to pull a prank on you, and he somehow convinced Loggins to help him.”

“A prank, huh?”

In your mind, that made a lot of sense. Why else would Joseph suddenly find himself stumbling to ask you to practice with him after dinner?

Oh, if only you knew how bad things really were about to be.

“What should I do then?”

Caesar leaned back into his chair with a confident hum.

“You’re a smart girl. And your beauty has a tight grip on him. I’m sure you could figure out a way to get back at him.”

You smiled in appreciation at his remarks, and silently thanked God for having a friend like him on this island. 

After all, if it weren’t for him, so much more might’ve gone down that evening. 

A few minutes later, you were both finished with dinner and had thanked the masters for the meal that night. With that done with, you two walked out the door, bade each other goodnight, and separated to different hallways.

During the five-minute walk to your room, you thought up many different ways Joseph might prank you, and you thought up many different ways you were going to combat it. 

“I’ll have time to prepare the prank before he shows up,” you thought. “He’s not going to catch me off guard this time.”

All these thoughts of vengeance and planning died down when you approached the door and noticed something a little concerning.

You always made sure to close your door all the way. Why was it open just a crack?

There was only one real explanation.

You slammed the door wide open, ready to attack, but as quickly as your guard had went up, it went just as quickly down with the sight laid out before you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted two things in the corner; a Ripple-breathing mask and a crumpled-up undershirt, both of which look like they were thrown over there in a hurry.

More importantly, however, was the centerpiece of the room. A shirtless, musclebound figure was posed in a chair that faced the doorway. His eyes were staring hungrily into yours and his smirk was perfectly visible in the pale moonlight. 

You were nearly breathless.

“J… Joseph…?”

“Hello, love.”

-shipyard98

[helgabatwrittings]

Hi, everyone! It’s finally July!! And since I’m Ladynoir trash, I’m writing some prompts for @ladynoirjuly2020 . I also want to thank @miraculouslyinloveagain for prompting me into writing this, and @sassykittynoir and @smileytrinity for their support. You guys are the best, and I’m so happy to have you as friends! Anyway, I hope you like this, and let me know what you think!

Day 1: The Wall Between Us

"LUCKY CHARM!" Marinette screamed, and a spotted fork immediately fell to her hands. Really, did Hawkmoth never sleep? It was 2 AM already, and it was a school night, so all Marinette should be doing, wanted to be doing was sleep. But of course, Hawkmoth could not have that, maybe this was a new tactic of his, to run the heroes of Paris ragged, and let exhaustion be the true winner. The victim was a student who felt overwhelmed over the stupid amount of work they had. Seriously, professors should be more lenient towards their students, especially when a supervillain who strives on negative emotions is on the loose.

Chat was busy distracting "Exotherman", God even his name was lame, while Marinette thought of a strategy to defeat him with a fork, once again courtesy of Tikki. But as she looked around, she also noticed how strangely quiet Chat Noir was. Perhaps he was just tired since this was, in fact, the 4th-night Akuma they had in a week, but Chat had also stopped punning, adding that to the fact that he didn't call her "M'lady" once, and Marinette was worried sick.

“Ladybug!” Marinette heard Chat screaming, and she barely dodged the fiery blast intended for her. Right, she had to focus on the battle. Once again Paris depended on its heroes, even though said heroes were running on fumes alone after almost a week of getting almost no sleep.

Her earrings beeped and Marinette looked at the spotted fork in her hand, and the cogs inside her brain started to work again, like a well-oiled machine. But of course! The solution was right in front of her!

So, after one meticulously placed “Cataclysm” and one “Miraculous Ladybug”, the victim was back to his normal self, and his friends were already next to him, asking all kinds of questions that the student had no answers. They climbed to a rooftop near the scene, effectively avoiding the journalists who were arriving at the spot.

“Pound it!” Chat Noir was definitely gloomy, the way he lightly pounded her fist, the silent sigh he released right before saying the familiar words. Something was wrong with her partner, and Marinette would get to the bottom of it.

“Right… I have to go…” Chat numbly informed her.

“Wait!” Marinette grabbed his arm, causing him to flinch slightly and her heart sank. “Is everything okay, Chat?” Her earrings beeped and she cursed. Why couldn’t they have unlimited time like the adult miraculous owners had!

“You should go, Ladybug. You’re about to transform back.” Chat tried to dodge her question.

“Nu-uh! Don’t think you can get away with it, Chat.”

“Seriously, LB, I’m fine!” Gosh, his smile was so fake! Did he think he could fool her? They were best friends, Marinette could read him like an open book. She looked around the rooftops and noticed a tall chimney nearby. It would have to do.

“Chat, you know you can tell me whatever is going on in your life! As long as we don’t compromise our identities, we can share everything.” Marinette looked gingerly at her stubborn partner. “Look, I’m almost out of time, how about we go to that chimney over there, and we stay on opposite sides. I have food for Tikki with me, so I can transform back, and you tell me what’s bugging you.”

Suddenly, the despondent look on Chat’s face morphed into a smirk, his eyes lighting in amusement “Was that a pun I just heard coming from you, M’lady?”

“Well, it was enough for you to start calling me M’lady again!” The  weight she was previously feeling in her chest suddenly dissipated almost completely, “So, can we talk now?”

Marinette hoped that Chat was quick in his decision, she would transform back at any moment. Thankfully, he nodded not even a second later, and so each of them jumped to their respective side of the chimney right in the nick of time for that matter, since a pink light engulfed Marinette as she returned to her civilian self, and an exhausted Tikki fell to her hands. “Can you tell me what’s wrong now, kitty?” She picked a macaron from her purse and gently gave it to Tikki.

“It’s just that…” Marinette heard him slump to the floor, “Well, it’s kind of stupid, to be honest…”

“I’m sure it isn’t stupid, Chat…” She heard him sigh softly.

“I… M’lady, you know that I love you, right?” Her heart started to race, the weight on her stomach came back a hundred times heavier than ever before.

“Chat, you know we can’t be together…” Her eyes got misty and her face was starting to feel warm, “I already like another boy…”, Marinette looked up, “Besides, I can’t love you…” She murmured, images of a grim alternative timeline featuring a lonely, bleached version of her partner flashed through her mind.

“I know… I know that... it’s just that…” Chat paused, “I think I’m in love with another girl… She’s always been a friend to me, and now, I’ve started to spend more time with her, only her, and I got to know her better. I guess she always held a special place in my heart, but now… now I see it as clear as water… and I feel terrible.”

Marinette’s heart plummeted. She should be happy for Chat! He was finally moving on, and she didn’t have to break his heart anymore. So… Why was she feeling this strange weight in her gut?

She wanted to be happy for him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “Why, uh, why do you feel terrible, Chat Noir?” Marinette stuttered, trying to contain the tears gathering in her eyes. God, why was she feeling like the floor under her feet has been ripped away?

“Because I love you.” He answered as the reason was obvious.

“And you love her…”. A shiver ran down her spine as her heart sank into an ice pit.

“And I love her…”. Marinette heard him sniff.

Her peripheral vision caught the green light, and her hair floated with the soft swoosh signalling his return to his civilian self. She heard rustling. Chat was probably fetching some food for his kwami. Her eyes drifted to Tikki who stopped eating her macaron so she could glance at her and give her a reassuring nod.

“Chat, I don’t know what to say…”

They spent some minutes in silence, it wasn’t tense or uncomfortable, but it wasn’t also like the familiar silence that fell upon them while they were patrolling. It was just silence, as simple as that. Her brain couldn’t stop shifting to selfish thoughts. She could stand up and run to his arms, stroke his soft golden locks, and whisper in his ear that everything would be alright, while she drowned herself in the sea that was his peridot eyes. God, when did she start to think of Chat Noir like that? He just sneaked his way into her heart, occupying a place right next to where her love for Adrien rested. Maybe it was the late meetings that Marinette shared with Chat on her balcony, where she got to know him better than anyone ever could. Spending time with him made her realise that Chat wasn’t only this flamboyant, flirty, larger than life boy. He actually managed to become really small when something was wearing him down. She learned that he was a lonely boy, dropped on this world with no one to look after him. His family was distant, and he always looked down at his feet when she talked of her mum, so she knew better than to ask him if he got along with his mother. He was kind, although she already knew that, and incredibly naive too! He always believed in the best of people, and sometimes Marinette worried if someone would take advantage of that.

Tikki looked up to her, her smiling face telling her that she was ready to transform. Marinette sighed, and she got up. She murmured her transformation phrase and a pink light suddenly enveloped her, turning her into the famous hero of Paris. She heard him mutter his own transformation words.

They both stepped away from their respective sides of the chimney, meeting face to face once again.

“Chat!” Marinette rested her hands on his shoulders. She let herself get lost in his loving gaze, “You are free to love whoever you want. If you love this girl, then don’t let her go! She’s a really lucky girl for having you in her life.” It probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear, since he immediately broke their eye contact. But they couldn’t be together, Marinette saw what happened if their relationship evolved from a close friendship to something else. And Chat deserved to be happy, even if it was with another girl.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you, M’lady…” His eyes were puffy and red, his face was wet, and Marinette could see how his lower lip trembled, trying to contain a fresh wave of tears.

Her fingers searched for his face, and she rested a hand on his cheek, while the other gently caressed his hair, eliciting an involuntary purr from him, “Probably, but you’ll also love this other girl. And that is okay! We will always be friends; you won’t lose me. You deserve to be happy, Chat Noir!”

He smiled at her, and that was enough for her entire being to recuperate from the cold she was feeling inside, for a fresh wave of pure energy to hit her all at once. When had he started to hold such power over her? “Thank you, M’lady. You deserve to be happy too, you know? Go after that boy of yours, sweep him off his feet. And if he doesn’t fall to his knees after you declare your love for him, well, then he’s an idiot!”

“You silly cat!” Marinette laughed with him, suddenly the air around them felt much lighter.

 A mellow chuckle replaced Chat’s laughter as he kept looking at her lovingly. He took a step closer, and her heart started to beat faster once again. “Thank you, Ladybug! You always know how to brighten my day!” He delicately said. Soft lips touched her skin, and all Marinette’s blood rushed to her face. She stopped breathing while Chat Noir kissed her cheek, her brain halting all function while her eyes widened, and she gaped in utter shock. He looked at her once again, his eyes reaching something deep inside of her, “Have a good evening, M’lady.” He whispered and took off, leaving an astonished Marinette alone on that rooftop.