#in which oliver is a good older brother

[jamminvroomvroom]

🎀 anon

congrats on 5k

hey bb ! i’ve been brainrotting on insatiable lando and his gf for weeks now omg

for a cute lil fic i was thinking of reader being max f’s sister and lando and her being secretly together. they’re all on vacation together and lando and reader are super insanely insatiable and the story on how they act on vacay 😈😈

anywhere she wants.

ln x fem fewtrell!reader

in which no one approves of your relationship, so lando shows them just how good he is to you…

oh my sweet 🎀 anon, i’m sorry this took so long! slowly getting back into the groove of writing, starting with this little piece! i went a bit off script but the vibes are hopefully similar to the request! huge thanks to angel bby @fairene for helping me out!enjoy! lemme know what you think!! big hugs and lots of love 💖

songs to set the mood: my love mine all mine by mitski, i know places by taylor swift, she will be loved by maroon 5, summertime sadness by lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, fluff, angst, a bit of exhibitionism kinda, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v, established relationship, max being a dick, angry/feral!lando, girlboss!reader, hints of ownership kink? for like. a second, lando being wise (not canon lmao), swearing

4.2k words

fairy lights drench the pool with light, a glow dancing over the still surface in ripples. you smile, hum with content as the warm evening air washes over your skin, leaning over the balcony to take in the sight of where you’ll be staying.

footsteps sound from behind you, the master bedroom, and you quickly feel two warm arms wrap around your waist, tan and thick. you lean into his touch, chest warming from the kisses peppered over your jugular.

“you like it?” lando breathes, nosing over your earlobe.

“it’s beautiful.” you whisper, turning your head to nuzzle against him. he seizes the opportunity to seal his lips over yours, kissing you soft and deep. you spin in his arms, clutching at his shirt to hold him close, the kiss intensifying, changing pace. just as he licks into your mouth, a sigh, so loud that it breaks the sound barrier, tears you both apart.

“so is that all you two do now, suck each others faces?” max rolls his eyes, his disapproval of your relationship one of the worlds worst kept secrets.

“yes, max. that’s all we do.” you mock, biting back at your older brother.

because of course you’re dating your brothers best friend. of course you are. life is funny like that.

lando stays silent, but you feel his hand on your waist tightening. max swallows hard.

“we ordered pizza, if you guys wanna come down.” max bulldozes through the awkwardness, offering an olive branch, and leaves.

“he is such a knob.” you mutter, shaking your head. lando strokes tentatively over your cheek, soothing you.

“he’s your big brother, baby. he’ll get over this.” lando coos reassuringly, and you choose the easy path of believing him.

you and max occupy opposite ends of the excessively large dining table when you join the rest of your friends.

the tension has been palpable between you and max since he caught you sneaking out of lando’s london flat one morning, the reason for your visit quite clear. you’d stood with your ear to the door when he’d stormed past you and entered the apartment, making you more than aware that your presence was unwanted when he quickly slammed the door behind him.

you’d endured the one-sided screaming match that followed, the accusations that lando must be playing with your feelings, that it would never work out, that it wasn’t fair at how exposed you’d be to the cruelty of his fan base, that he couldn’t believe how low lando would stoop to date his little fucking sister.

you wanted to understand, and really, you tried!but max hadn’t made it easy, constantly pushing your buttons and making needless digs at the both of you. lando convinced you that this holiday during the summer break would be healing; max would get to see how much lando cared for you, and everyone got much needed time to relax. so, with your friend group in tow, the three of you jetted off to the tiny spanish island.

surely, everything would be fine.

-

everything was not, in fact, fine.

you can smell it in the air, the tension building thick and heavy. everyone thought they were slick, waiting for lando to leave so they could corner you, and corner you, they did.

lando had kissed you sweetly by the sliding doors to the garden, popping his airpods in and shouting a quick: going on a run! to the rest of your holiday party. you’d sauntered carelessly to a lounger, bikini clad, sprawling out across the chair to tan and watch the who can do the best canon ball into the pool competition that has become a long running championship. but you can feel stares, feel the walls closing in, and you push your sunglasses up to rest over your hairline.

max and pietra are locked in on you, as are the rest of your friends.

“what?” you feel hot, embarrassed all of the sudden for no reason at all.

“so, it’s going well, then… with lando?” one of your girlfriends starts, but it sounds extra high pitched, awkward. your stomach sinks as you realise the pathetically choreographed dance about to take place.

“for fuck sake.” you mutter.

“she’s just asking!” max shoots back, as if he’s offended, as if you can’t see right through him.

“it’s going great.” you state, blunt as ever whenever your relationship is questioned.

“we just wanna make sure that this is right for you.” pietra says sympathetically, her eyes soft. you’ve known her long enough to know that even though her dickhead boyfriend is being callous, she genuinely cares.

“lando is right for me, you are all so full of shit! i don’t get what it is that you’re seeing.” you try and keep your voice level, even as your blood pressure begins to rise menacingly.

“it’s not so much what we see between you, it’s more about what he was like before.” tom jumps in.

ah, yes. the infamous hoe phase.

“because no one here ever fucked around.” you glare pointedly at your brother. he lowers his gaze.

“are we sure this isn’t just a… a fling?” pietra tries again, staying soft. her words still sting.

“yeah, i know him better than you do, and i-“ max’s voice cuts you like a thousand shards of glass and you body ignites with rage.

he knows him better? what does he know?

does he know that lando can’t sleep without telling you that he loves you? does he know that lando cried into you arms after his miami win? does he know that lando feels itchy if he doesn’t tell you that you’re beautiful at least eleven times an hour? does he know that you’re so crazy about his gorgeous, loving, infuriating best friend that you’re prepared to tell your brother where to go and to never come back?

“shut the fuck up, max. you know nothing! nothing about our relationship because you never gave us a chance. you don’t see how much i love him because every time you see us together, you’re hellbent on destroying our happiness.” you point angrily, standing from your chair. before you turn to the house, you leave them all with a parting message.

“and all of you will do very well to remember who paid to bring your bitter arses here. remember whose fucking house you’re in.” you lecture, watching as they all turn sheepish as they realise how ungrateful they sound.

“i don’t think i have anything to add.” you hear from behind you.

you jump, turning to see lando leaning against the door.

“shit, baby.” you breathe, rushing towards him, your skin crawling as you wonder how much he’s heard.

“forgot my phone.” he shrugs, smiling warmly at you. only at you. “now unless anyone has anything to add, i’m gonna take my very, very serious girlfriend upstairs.” he grins smugly.

the silence is so deafening that you couldn’t of even heard a pin drop if you’d tried.

you hold up your middle finger as he leads you away.

your bedroom door slams so hard that they must hear it outside. he’s tense, enraged at the disrespect that you’d endured, but he’s soft with you, pulling you into his rigid body. he relaxes into you, walking you further into the room.

“how much did you hear?” you whisper, clinging to him.

“oh, you know, just all of it.” he laughs bitterly, fingers sinking into your hips.

“they’re assholes.” you growl, threading your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes it.

“there is one good thing about it though.” lando hums, still guiding you deeper into the room. your back thuds softly against the sliding glass door, the one that leads to your balcony.

“what?” you breathe, suddenly extremely aware of his lower body.

“you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad.” he smirks.

turns out, he didn’t steal you away to mope.

his lips crash against yours fiercely, teeth and tongue getting in on the action as he moves his mouth feverishly against your own. your neck tilts back, allowing him to swallow you whole, like his life depends on the feeling of you pressed against him. he trails kisses over your cheek, across your jaw, down your neck, two fingers grazing your ribcage. he snaps the tie of your bikini against your skin, stone cold aware of the lack of clothing adorning your body and he hums low from the back of his throat.

“they need to learn that you’re mine, that you’re always gonna be mine.” lando grunts, pulling away to slide the door open. he pushes you out onto the balcony, the one that overlooks the very pool that your friends and your brother are licking their wounds around.

“lando…” you gasp, weary of his overly adventurous attitude.

“maybe this will make them realise just how crazy you make me.” lando looks possessed, moving towards you like a wild animal engulfing its prey.

he cages you in against the wall, pulling one leg over his hip to spread you open, his fingers travelling to the flimsy tie of your bikini bottoms. you’re already soaked, embarrassingly so, really, but there’s just something about those gorgeous, haunted eyes. lando let’s the bottoms fall to the floor, kicking them away impatiently as he quickly finds home between your legs.

“think anyone else can get you this wet?” lando asks, eyes rolling back as he finds your slick folds. your jaw drops, already boneless at the feel of him. “answer me, baby. nice ‘n loud for me.” he demands.

“no, lan.” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. he’s teasing, stroking lightly over your folds and your sensitive bud.

“and can anyone else make you feel this good? i mean, baby, i’ve barely touched you and you’re shaking.” lando’s teeth catch his bottom lip, his eyes glazing over as he watches you.

“lando, please.” you mutter, grinding down on his hand. you need more of him. he grins, flashing his teeth with pride as he renders you desperate.

“my pretty girl fucking my hand, god, you’re so perfect.” lando praises, earning a moan from your kiss-swollen lips. “bet they can hear how soaked you are, baby.”

you flush red, shame and embarrassment blurring the pleasure and you press a tense hand to your mouth, trying to silence the waterfall of whines.

“don’t you fucking dare.” he warns, sliding his fingers deep into your pussy. he gives you no time to adjust, curling them upwards and rocking his whole hand against you. his palm bumps against your clit and you writhe against the wall.

there’s no point covering your mouth, there is no hiding what’s happening. you let him have you how he wants you, a consolation for him having to hear his friends badmouth him, and he takes every liberty, mouthing at your covered tits, lapping over your peaked nipples. you cry out, weak as he manipulates your body closer to an orgasm, your wetness trickling down his wrist.

“so good to me, baby, only you, lando.” you choke, your voice echoing between the stone walls.

“that’s it, honey, make a mess for me. let ‘em hear you pretty girl.” he encourages, talking you straight into your first orgasm.

you tremble, gushing all over his hand as you cum, droplets splattering all over the paved floor. lando’s eyes turn black, mouth hanging open as he watches you fall apart, riding you through it.

lando let’s you cool down, propping you carefully against the wall, and leaning over the balcony. funnily enough, max is long gone, but the rest of them sit in stunned silence. he can’t help himself, driven mad by your quivering body and their cruel jabs, choosing whatever the opposite of the high road is. he reaches into his pocket, finding his credit card.

“get out of the villa that i paid for so i can fuck my girlfriend anywhere she wants.” he shouts, watching the way their necks snap up to look at him, revelling in their reddened faces that are not just flushed from the sun. “take this. have dinner. just fuck off.” he frisbees his card at tom, - rather carelessly really, considering just how much there was to lose on that little black square - and he revels in the way it lands square against his forehead.

they all stand up and scurry away, as few faint sorry’s! carrying through the air towards the couple on the balcony, but lando has more important business to attend to.

he scoops you up into his arms, grinning at your coy smile and your drooping eyes. he carries you to bed, planting you in the middle of the mattress.

“not done with you yet, baby, open those eyes for me.” lando coos, crawling over you, his shirt and workout shorts flung to the other side of the room. he feels delicious against you, caging you in beneath him.

“want you, lan.” you plead, a desperate smile on your face as you keen, stretching against the mattress like a cat.

“you’ll have me, baby. always gonna have me.” he smiles, eyes finding yours. “i love you.”

“love you so much.” you whisper, pulling him flush against you. “no matter what.” you affirm. he needed to hear that, it seems, his eyes sparkling with something else, other than the sheen of lust.

he kisses you, firm and wanting, his fingertips sliding up over your arms, leaving prickles of lightning and goosebumps in their wake. one of his hands interlocks with yours, twining together above your head, his body stretching languidly over yours. you can feel him, hard and throbbing between your legs, teetering on the knife edge of self control.

“take me, lando. have me how you want me. ‘m yours.” you croon, disguising a helpless whine as you arch your body into his. you’re squirming for it, to feel him sink deep and claim you his.

that seems to usher him along, and he drags his cock through your folds with a slow roll of his hips, the head catching your sodden entrance. you hiss, the intrusion not even nearly enough, but the sensation overwhelming you nonetheless. he slides into you carefully, stilling when his hips hit flush against yours. you do not want careful.

“fuck me.” you groan wetly, hot breath fanning his face as your mouth instinctively fills with saliva. you’re close to drooling for him.

“beg.” he snaps, jaw tight as he battles his natural instinct to utterly ravage you. “beg me to show you that i own you.”

your legs quiver, pussy clenching around him and he cannot help but buck his hips and suppress a whine. he styles it out, tantalisingly slow as he rolls his hips, grinding against your pleasure point, your slick walls. blood rushes in your ears, your body feral with need. you can’t even tease, disobey him for the fun of it, not when he’s wound you up so delectably. your body keens for him, hums with the sparks, a live wire.

“don’t wanna be able to walk when you’re done,” you slur, beginning to ramble. “want to feel you so deep that i’m ruined. ‘m yours, lando. have me.” you plead.

pleasure shoots through him, then, rapid and unwavering. he’s unforgiving as he rails into you, immediately stoking the fire in your belly. all of his body weight is on you, sweaty skin sticking and slapping as his hipbones bruise into yours.

“is that how you want it, huh, baby?” he manages to growl, scooping up your wrists in one big paw, his other hand working down the planes and curves of your body. he finds the triangles of your bikini top, hastily tearing them down just enough so that your tits spill out. all for him. all his. “look at this perfect fucking body,” his breathe hitches, awestruck. “is it all mine?”

you cry out, nodding shamelessly as he ghosts his fingers around the swell of your nipple, switching to the other when he’s satisfied with the peak. he alternates between them, twisting and tugging, barely there and all too hard. you can only plead his name and tighten around his cock.

once he’s overstimulated your chest, he works his fingers further down your body, stopping now and then to dig into your flesh, appreciating the soft feeling of your skin under his calloused hands.

“and this hot, little cunt… is this mine, too?” lando breathes, right against the shell of your ear. his thumb presses hard against your thrumming clit, smearing your slick over the bud. “to play with? is it baby?”

“god, yes.” you manage to bellow, the strained words tearing over your vocal chords.

“yes, what?” lando snaps, slapping lightly over the bundle of nerves.

“it’s yours!” you sob, choking on your own voice.

“to…?” lando coaxes, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips as he looks at you expectantly.

“to play with.” you stutter, cheeks tinged hot with embarrassment that seeps down your neck and between your sweat-dampened bodies.

“that’s my good girl. my pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“‘m so close.” you breathe, writhing up the mattress, his body atop your inescapable. he toys with your clit, pinching the electrified nerves, watching how you buck your hips and leak onto the mattress. he’s covered in you, his belly glistening in the sunlight that washes over you, sealing you forever in this golden, sparkling moment.

“want me to cum all over your tummy, baby? mark you mine?” lando gasps, driving into you with one goal in mind. he has to get you there, wants to be painted in the remnants of your pleasure and hung up in every art museum in the world. if only he wasn’t so selfish, yearning to keep this stunning sight to himself for the rest of his life.

“n-no,” you pause, your jaw going slack for a moment as he circles your clit just right, grinds his hips so deep. “inside me.” you beg.

“fill me up.”

his vision blurs.

lando just about folds you in half, carnal desire surging through his veins. the hand keeping yours suspended over your head falls away, finding your navel where he applied a brutal, sweet pressure that leaves you blind and wailing. his other fingers busy themselves sinking into the meat of your thigh, dragging you backwards and forwards on his throbbing length.

your body goes limp, tears of pleasure trailing wetly down your face as your orgasm hits you, and lando can’t help but bury himself as deep as he can go. the rutting of his hips and the messy rub of his whole hand against your clit leaves you awestruck, sobbing into the air of the room. you’re covering him in waves, shivering as you grow overstimulated but you can’t help but chase the high. your violent quivers and dripping cunt make him whine, high pitched and divine, and he drops onto you, filling you up. he can’t seem to stop, painting you white from the inside out, watching the way it drips out of you, coating the base of his cock.

this can’t be over yet, he decides. he needs to hear you scream.

“lemme help you with that.” he mumbles, slinking down your body, eyes fixed solely on where you were joined together.

you don’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of him buried inside of you, no. you’re too busy pushing at his curls, pleading that he lets up, but he can’t. it’s not that he won’t, it’s that he quite simply can’t.

his tongue runs up the seam of your pussy, lapping over the mixture you’ve made and you can’t do anything but cry and thrash, white hot with pleasure and pain. its so good that it hurts, and you give in, knowing that he isn’t going to stop unless you say the magic words. lord knows, you won’t. lando knows you won’t.

it’s torturous, really, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, drags his tongue over his mess and slips it right into your entrance. he swirls and sucks and nips and tugs. it’s like he’s turned a faucet on, watching hazily as you drip and drip, more of you and him seeping onto his tongue. he’s insatiable as he licks you clean, unable to resist luring you into a third orgasm.

and when it hits, god, does it hit.

the scream he pulls from your body is deafening, makes him shake with the intensity of it, the vibrations rippling through your body and ricocheting off of his. you relax limply into the mattress, urgently needing a break. you watch through hooded eyes as he slurps anything left of you from his reddened lips, your thighs clenching unconsciously. he just chuckles, flopping down beside you.

“tired, baby?” lando teases, stroking over your rapidly rising and falling ribs.

“just a tad.” you deadpan, unable to hold back the giggles as serotonin soothes you.

“oh, sweetheart. i’m not even nearly done with you yet.” lando grins toothily, deviously.

something he said about fucking you ‘anywhere’ you wanted dawns on you and your eyes widen.

-

anywhere really did mean anywhere.

he’d had to carry you to the shower when you were finally done, holding you close under the spray. you were lost to the memory of him pushing you into the sideboard in the hallway, laying you flat across the kitchen counter, eating you like dessert on the very same sun lounger that you’d been perched on when this whole marathon commenced.

you’re utterly spent, eyelids sagging when he finally sets you down on the sofa, playing on his phone while you fall asleep watching the office.

you’re curled up in lando’s lap, legs hanging over the end of the sofa when max finds you. hair still wet from the much needed shower and fast asleep in his best friends arms. he actively chooses to quell the disgusted curl of his lips. you look so peaceful, safe. his plans to throttle lando for his earlier stint subside.

“call me a wankstain on society later, if you want, but please don’t wake her up.” lando speaks with a hushed tone, not even gracing max with eye contact, his eyes remaining on the candies he’d been crushing before the other fewtrell turned up.

“i- no, i wasn’t gonna call you that. i did, however, consider driving that very nice, very vintage lambo you hired off a cliff.” max mutters. lando scoffs a laugh.

“you would have paid for it.” he still doesn’t look up from the phone. max eyes the way lando strokes your side, in time with the crests and falls of your breath. it’s tender, intimate.

max considers that there’s a strong possibility he was wrong.

“mate, listen-“

“nope. she’s your baby sister, i get it. i get it. you can hate me for it, but you crossed a line going after her like that.” lando finally looks up at max, glowering sternly.

“i’m gonna talk to her.” max bows his head, as if he’s ashamed of himself and lando softens slightly.

“you should, mate. she wants your support, your approval means everything.” lando says. “look, i love her. i really do. and while you were accusing me of trying to ruin her life, you were crushing her.” lando sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of pain. max meets his gaze.

“for the record, i don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for my little sister, but you come pretty fucking close.” max relents, pushing his pride aside, finally. lando smiles, small and knowing.

“i just wanna make her happy.” he shrugs, a look of hopeless romance, utter devotion and pure happiness radiating off of him in waves as he gazes down at your frame. something in max’s belly snaps, the apprehension dissolving to mush. he had gotten this all wrong.

“you do.” he hums, watching how you curl further into lando as you stir in your sleep, the drivers fingers delicately combing your hair away from your face. “but,” max quips.

lando grimaces, bracing himself.

“if you ever, ever, pull something like that again,” max shivers with disgust at the insinuation. “i will remove your bollocks and make you watch me crash the miura.” max swears, pointing a finger of warning.

“seems like everyone’s come to their senses, no more… pranks from me.” lando holds his free hand up in mock surrender.

“have you two kissed and made up yet?” you murmur, stretching out in lando’s arms. you rub sleep from your eyes, sitting up and leaning into your boyfriends solid frame, resting against him as your eyes flit to your brother.

“we’re good. ‘m, uh, sorry.” max nods, attempting to be heartfelt. lando chokes on a laugh as it falls flat.

“you’re “uh, sorry”?” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i’m really sorry.” max tries again, and you grin cheekily at your brother, watching as his shoulders release the tension they’ve been carrying all afternoon. he turns to leave, halfway to the door when you call out to him.

“hey, max?”

“yeah, lovely?” your chest warms at the sweet nickname. you’d forgotten the last time he’d called you that.

“wash your sheets.” your eyes blaze with amusement and you hear lando’s sharp inhale of breath, shocked that you’d gone there.

“you didn’t- my god, you did not-“ max splutters, his face almost green with nausea.

“you’ll never know for sure.” you grin. you think he’s going to faint.

serves the bastard right.

-

hehe

lemme know what u think!! <33

-

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[iwaasfairy]

IWA HARSH PUSSY SLAPPPPSSS OR FINGERINGGGG

a/n. yea I made it dad iwa and also some oc bullshit fucking suE ME but it’s good i like this one yeAAAA I hope you enjoy BBYYYYY I know I liked writing it hahahHAHA

GET IT RIGHT

tw. incest, dad x daughter, single dad iwa, reader’s a brat, obv age gap, size stuff implied, pussy slapping, (hard-ish) dom iwa, brat taming, noncon voyeurism, it’s a family affair, solo masturbation, jealousy wc. 3k

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader, iwaizumi eiji and hitoshi x fem!reader

Its not his business that you’re a total nympho. Frankly, he could care less. Hitoshi’s eyes flick from under his baseball cap to the older sibling’s smug, almost accomplished smile when he runs a hand through his head of hair, before shaking some of the excess water out. The lighter brunet chuckles. “Our little sister’s laying on a towel with her tits out in the Oikawa’s backyard.”

“Dad’s over there, ain’t he?” Hitoshi responds, already back to scrolling mindlessly through Reddit to cure some of his boredom. Head of the Iwaizumi house said to ‘go outside for a bit’ so here he is, sweating his ass off in the lawn chair. What you’re up to really is none of his concern. Really. Eiji only smiles.

“And what? You think he’s gonna tell her off? Be for real for a second, Tosh.” There’s a look on Eiji’s face. Mixed in under the amusement and the bolstering, there’s something a bit tense. Impatient, and though he’d sooner die than admit it, Hitoshi recognises the glint that sits in the slight scrunch of his nose. He’s jealous. Yeah, you’re the type of little sister who gets away with having your tits out while they’re supposed to pretend not to see it. After sloppily patting himself dry with one of the towels, the oldest sibling slaps his phone out of his hands to grunt. “Get up.”

He responds before he thinks. “Fuck you, bitch.”

But it doesn’t bother his brother, who only tosses the towel back onto the table. “Stop intellectualising it and get up. You wanna get a look too, right? Dad’s over there right now to keep an eye on our little sister, and no one else is home. What do you think’s gonna happen.”

+

The sun’s so nice on your bare skin, glowing heat onto you and making you feel so sleepy and dazed. You’re all housesitting, which means access to the ridiculously nice pool of the Oikawa’s — and a secluded garden where you’re free to do whatever the fuck you want. The low voice is the only thing interrupting the peace. Daddy. “Babe. What do you think you’re doing?”

Your hat’s covering most of your view, but if you crack open one eye you can just about make out the way your dad crosses his arms over his wide chest, wife beater clinging a bit too tight to his muscular form. You push your lips out. “Sunbathing.”

“Put something on.” He sounds a bit tight, like he’s gotta clear his throat. Good.

“Why though?” You lift the hat up with one finger to look up further, see the slightly flushed visage of your father as he eyes you down. He’s a bit sweaty, yard work, and now has all his attention aimed at you. “I can’t get warm evenly all over if I do. Besides, no one’s home, and no one’s gonna look at me. The only people who can see into the yard is us, and Hitoshi nii’s not going to crawl out of his dungeon to spy on me, I promise you.”

It stays quiet for a few seconds as he takes in your words, before he sighs. Frowns just a bit, as he lets his eyes glide down your body just once. Enough to have his jaw clench, though. “I’m working here.” Then, after a bit more thought, he forces out the rest of the words. “You’re distracting.”

“Daddy~ please~” you start though, now pushing off the hat completely and wrapping your arm around yourself in mock-modesty. You have no intention of actually covering up. And looking at the way he’s breathing and already sweaty, he doesn’t actually want you to cover up either. “Nobody’s home. It’s fine. Please?” His olive green eyes flick to the way you’re pushing up your tits with your arms now, and those swimming trunks start feeling a bit tight on him if the way he shifts is anything to go by. The intense look would’ve scared you off before, but… well, it isn’t the first time you’ve gotten away with worse.

It also probably won’t be the last. “Once the sun is gone I’ll cover up to go back into the pool out front, promise.” You smack your lips, and give him those big puppy eyes that he seems to love so much. “Ei nii’s out there and I don’t want him to get an eyeful anyway.” You roll onto your side to send him your best smile. “Only trust you like that, daddy~” You’re audacious, a brat, but only because you know that gets him going. Wouldn’t do it this way if he really didn’t like it. When you go to lay back down with closed eyes, you can already hear him move in the grass.

A slight line works its way between your brows at that, at the idea that he’d walk away from you. But then a warm palm wraps around your arm to pin it beside your head on the towel, and you can feel the heat of him getting onto his heels beside you. Your breathing hitches, but you force yourself to keep your eyes closed. “Trust me to do what, exactly?” He rasps.

His other hand comes to your shoulder to push his thumb in, nice and hard, and works a moan out of you before you can think— working his way down in circles that pull goosebumps out of you. “What’s all this show really for? To make your big brothers jealous? Hm?” He gets close enough for the whispered voice to tickle your neck, hot thigh pressed against your waist before he places the other on your other side, straddling you. “You think that you can ‘daddy’ all your problems away? That if you look at me sweetly enough I’ll give?”

“I- didn’t-” your voice hitches when his mouth drags over your pulse, slight stubble and warm lips leaving kisses all down the length if it. The heat of the sun on your naked chest only makes the almost touch more irritable and itchy, and you have to fight the urge to just curl your body up against him already. “Didn’t want my big brothers to see. Wanted -you to.” When he noses at your collarbone you try to find your voice, and worm your wrist out of his grip to reach for his hair. “Wanted daddy to play with me again. I’ve been waiting since yesterday. Please.”

You can’t help but think back to last weekend, grinding down on his thigh with his fingers down your throat. Panties coated in stickiness and your entire body trembling with exhaustion. He laves soft mouthed kisses onto your throat enough to have you shaking now, too. But Hajime’s nothing if not consistent, as he noses the side of your breast and his hands slide down to squeeze your waist. “You know that I can’t, right?” He always says that.

You can’t help but laugh, humourlessly, and tug softly at the hair trapped between your fingers. “Then why are you?” And he is. As soon as he gets near enough, you arch your back automatically, still clenching your eyes closed. If you look now, the image will haunt you every day for the rest of summer. You’ll need daddy’s hands on you until you can’t go any more. Your tit is pushed against his cheeks because of your motion, and he groans a low, rumbling sound against your body. You can feel the heat of his bulge through his shorts. “Did you get jealous that Eiji might’ve seen me? Even a little?”

A second passes, before he finally grunts. “Fuck, yeah.” His mouth comes to your tits, tongue rubbing over hardened nipples too well, too knowingly. Knowing your daddy’s had other women before could make you green with envy, but he feels so good. His mouth, and hands feel so fucking good. Good enough to cry about it, trapped under his broad, heavy form as he squeezes and sucks your tits. “You’re a headache, you know that? Do you feel what you do to me?”

“Mhm.” You nod, panting, squirming under him. His hardening cock pushes against your thigh as you roll your hips, and he leaves impatient lovebites all over your tits. “Daddy.. d-daddy. Want you.” He’s so big and hot and heavy against you any time you get this close, it’s not your fault. You’re only a headache because he made you one. The clothed grinding against his covered, hard cock leaves your pussy awfully wet and sticky. Your breaths short. “Don’t you wanna- s-show your boys who your daughter belongs to, daddy?”

Your eyes shoot open when a sharp sting jerks your body, spreading through the flesh of your tit before he laves his tongue over the ridges where his teeth dug in. He clicks his tongue while grinding your other nipple between his fingers, making your bottom lip wobble. It feels so good, he always does. It’s not your fault. “Stop tempting me to make you regret your little stunt.” Your teary eyes meet his, dark and predatory before he pushes himself up, and yanks you closer by your thighs. “Legs up on my shoulders.”

“But-“

“Legs.” He says again, lower. You do, let him help your ass up to his mouth and reposition you so he’s level with your cunt. Your pussy clenches around nothing as he blows on your clit through the fabric, and only one hand keeps wrapped like a vice around your thigh to stabalize you. “I don’t wanna hear anything except how good it feels. Understood?”

You nod, before thinking better of it and speaking up. “Yes.” Fuck, it’s hot. He’s hot. You’re about to melt into a puddle with his face between your legs. He pushes your bikini bottoms aside with rough fingertips before pushing in. And you gasp, doing everything not to whine already. As his nose pushes against your sensitive clit, his lips find yours to leave a wet kiss on the opening, and he pushes his tongue against your sloppy lips without another warning. It’s already too much.

“Agh- d-daddy. You feel g- gh-ud.”

The big, hot tongue pushing you open, makes you grind against him while blood rushes both to your cunt and your head. His other hand flicks over your enterance a few times instead, before two thick fingertips push inside you, slow at first. He makes a show out of bottoming them out, and you can feel the way he smiles when it makes your pussy squelch. His tongue flicks over your clit hard and fast, before sucking. “Fuck, you’re so- good- g-good to me. Daddy!”

“Mhm.” The blood makes your ears ring. It makes you so dizzy it’s impossible to see much past daddy’s face and how good he looks, rubbing his tongue in rough motions over your pussy. He’s licking and licking and licking against your clenching muscles so good it’s almost unbelievable. The rough friction of his chin and stubble against your pussy, the way he nibbles just right at your clit, it’s all too much. It’s too much because it’s daddy— because he knows what he’s doing.

“D-daddy!”

You mewl as you curl your body against him and the push to your clit gets even better. Too good. You’re so sweaty his hand slips on your thigh, instead pulling you back by your heel and yanking you back up, right as your toes curl. His face is making a mess between your legs, and your mouth hangs open. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He- he’s already gonna make you cum. Sweat rolls down your back as your juices run down his chin and he buries himself as deep as he can, groaning your name into your pussy. “That’s my pretty girl, there you go.”

Your thighs squeeze around him and your eyes open through your tears, desperately searching for the eye contact you need to get there. But maybe because he knows you, he pulls back and drops you back down by your legs, spreading them by his thighs. “No, no- daddy pleas-uhh~ I wanna cum.”

“You’re coming on my cock.” He snaps back, before pushing you open more and slapping your pussy with a flat palm. “That alright with you, miss princess?” He says it like it’s an insult. For a moment, it does feel like it. Your mouth snaps shut against the cry you wanna let out, as his hand lands again before you can react. You jerk against the sting, clench your legs closed around his hand, but he pushes them back open to do it again. And again, and again, until slick is dripping down to your ass and your clit is tingling and swollen. You could burst out into a sobbing fit any second. “Can I do what I gotta do to get you there now?”

“Yes,” you sniffle back instantly, and open your eyes at him. Thick tears sit on your vision at it, you can’t help it. It’s all his fault you’re this way anyway. Your thighs wobble before your bottom lip does, and it’s this that makes him sigh.

“Aw, babe, shhhh— I’m sorry.” He takes only a moment to pull his shirt over his head, then gets back over you to wipe away the thick tracks. It doesn’t do much against the tears that keep coming, but it’s ok. It’s much better when you can place your hands to his bare chest and feel his heartbeat through your palms, reach up to kiss him. He tastes like you, and you suck on his tongue until he moans into the kiss. When he pulls back, that hot, big palm cups your cheek. “Was that mean?”

“I deserved it.” His dialated eyes search yours for a moment, before he kisses you back another few times. The tingling ache between your legs remains, but there’s a pit in your stomach that becomes more demanding again. “Please keep going?”

“Take me out.” Your hands instantly glide down his body at the order, hooking two fingers around the elastic band before pulling. Pulling down until you reveal the trail of pubic hair that leads down to his thick, flushed cock and down further. Down until the fabric can no longer hold him back from bobbing up against his stomach and he lets out a deep breath. You pull a little more to get a glimpse of his fat, heavy balls too, before daddy grunts and places both elbows by your head again. “Lead my cock inside you like a good girl, hm?”

“Uhuh.” Gladly. Your fingers reach for him, touching the dripping head first. Pre gets all over your fingertips, and you truly can’t stop yourself from putting two fingers inside your mouth with a whimper. Your hands return to squeeze around the head, need both to reach and stroke down a few times. Not that he needs it. He’s hard enough to feel his heartbeat through the skin, thick cock twitching as you shuffle around to line up. “‘s big.”

“It’s big to make you feel good.” He agrees, kisses your temple, and bucks into your palm. “Go on.” You line him up with a deep breath, before blinking your long lashes up at him with your lip between your teeth. The head kisses your hole as he hums, slides your slick around on the puffy mushroom head a few times before pushing in. “Ugh-always forget,” he grunts lowly, biceps bulging as he holds himself above you, “how fucking tight you are. My little baby.”

He starts rocking himself inside you bit by bit, and you can’t help but drag your nails along his flexing back to hang on. “Ah, ah, agh, daddy. You’re- so- big.” You throw your head back, and pant, tears still wobbling. You’re no longer sad though. Your pussy’s being forced open too big, too- fucking wide for you to clench around him properly- but it feels so good. He feels so fucking good, oh God. You want to fuck daddy all summer. You want him to never, ever stop.

+

Hitoshi’s so fucking hot it makes it hard to see straight. Cum’s gotten on his shirt, all over his hand, and he’s got boxers full of cum running down his fucking thigh. While his cock’s still hard and red in his fist as he forces his own hips not to buck. He can just barely hear your whines echo over the field to where they’re hiding— and you sound, predictably, just like how he imagined you do. You look good. Fuck, he’s sure you’d look just as good under him, but instead you’re clinging flushed faced, tits bouncing to your dad with his greying temples and letting yourself get used.

You’re pathetic, honestly. But he’s also not fucking blind. His cock twitches hard in his hand, and his other hand comes to cover the flared head as if that’ll keep a third load in. He’s trying to hold it so hard that he’s panting, balls pulling up to his body.

“Think she’ll let me eat the cum out of her when dad leaves?” Eiji’s pumping his cock without shame like there’s no tomorrow, getting drops of hot, clear liquid everywhere. He’s christened the plants with his cum earlier, too. Hitoshi just grimaces, before looking back at the way your body curls around the fat cock driving in and out of you, your cries about to make him bust again. “Huh?”

“I don’t fucking care, Ei nii.” He then furrows his brows so deep that you’d say he’ll get permanent wrinkles, not bothering to look over. “Why do you wanna eat dad’s cum out of her?”

“So I can fuck my own into her.”

Hitoshi’s too busy watching you and breathing through it to care about what he’s saying, so it takes a minute to filter through his hazy thoughts. “You’re a pig.”

Eiji just rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, quick shot. Have fun trying not to cum when I go next.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[leodette]

could u write Lando with an older woman? who maybe already has a kid, or at least with a small child is in her company? thanx <3

Hello, sure I can! The woman is around 30, and since there are no more instructions, the child that accompanies her is her nephew!

I Never Wanna See You Walk Away | LN4

fandom: Formula 1

pairing: Lando Norris x OC (not named)

names/faceclaims: -

summary: Lando takes Mila to the zoo

warning: age difference (older woman x younger man)

requested: yes / no

**********

“Mila! Mila please wait for me!” Lando yelled after his little niece who zoomed away from him on her bright pink scooter, laughing at her uncle’s attempts to catch her.

Lando had a rare moment of peace in his busy season, which allowed him to go home to Bristol for a few days, to see his parents and siblings. And because he was gone so often, hell he lived in a different country, he offered Oliver that he would take Mila in the late morning for a little ‘date’ to Bristol zoo, allowing his brother and Savannah some time with their newborn Athena.

What he didn’t count though was the energy hiding in Mila’s little body, and also the fact that she didn’t care if her ‘Uncle Lala’ was able to match his steps with her excitement.

So he was basically running after the child, trying not to gain too much attention. He was happy to not only have a break to see his family, but also not to be in public eye that much and that often.

He passed by lions and giraffes, his eyes firmly locked on Mila’s yellow jacket in desperate need to not loose her from his sight. A group of people suddenly appeared in her way, and Mila, startled, turned and ran her scooter straight into another child, both kids falling on the ground.

“Shit,” Lando sweared when he heard Mila’s high-pitched cry, running the last few paces and crouching next to her. She has laying in her stomach, the scooter next to her, partly crushed under her, the sleeves of her jacket dirty with mud, and her eyes shining with tears.

“Oh no no no, don’t cry darling, don’t,” Lando carefully lifted her, helping her to stand up and started to look for any kind of injury. In the whole mess, he completely forgot about the boy that Mila crashed into. Said young child was standing up, his hair messy and wet with a dirty water from the puddle that he fell into, the bottoms of his pants dirty. His eyes were shinning with tears, but he seemed desperately determined not to cry. Lando thought he could be around five.

“Buddy? What happened?!” a voice sounded behind them, and Lando turned to see a stunning woman with alarmed face expression. She was wearing black skinny jeans, cute boots on a small heel with a bow in the back, and a long maroon raincoat. Long haired pulled in a messy bun, and horrified look as she knelt next to the young boy, checking him in the similar way he was checking Mila.

“What happened, buddy?” she hugged him closer to her, caressing his cheek and wiping the lonely tear in his cheek. Mila though continued to cry loudly in Lando’s arms, him not being able to comfort her.

“That girl ran into m-me with her sco-scooter, those pe-people there sca-scared her,” the boy let out a few sobs, pointing first at Mila and then at the group of people that calmly walked away, clearly not aware of two crying children behind them.

“Okay, that’s okay, nothing happened,” the woman pressed a small kiss on boy’s forehead, smoothing his hair down.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” she checked, and when he shook his head negative, she turned her eyes to Lando and Mila. Lando expected her started screaming at him for not being careful, but she just smiled slightly.

“And you sweetheart? Are you okay?” she asked Mila, patting her hair. The little girl was watching her warily, still sniffling the ugly tears away, but she shook her head.

“Good. That is good. C’mon, there is no need to cry, okay? Things like this happen, the most important thing is that you are not hurt,” she smiled, and to Lando’s absolute surprise Mila squirmed out of his arms and flew herself at the woman. She quickly closed her arms around the little girl, before motioning with her hand for he boy who squeezed himself next to Mila, cuddling closer to the woman that Lando still didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, I lost an eyesight of her for only a second,” he apologized and stood up, looming over the most unusual trio anyone could imagine. He earned only a smile and a shake of head.

“Nothing bad happened, right? They’re both okay, maybe little startled, but that comes with life,” she gently eased herself out of Mila’s grid, standing up as well, her hands in each of the kids heads.

“Although we can’t tell your Mum, buddy, otherwise she would have Auntie’s neck for that,” she winked at the boy who gave her a big smile back, one of his front teeth missing but not from the collision.

“Okay, so since they both are fine, I guess we should go,” she patted Mila’s hair and let her go, grabbing the boy’s hand. But Lando’s niece had nothing out of it, running it her and grabbing her hand with the determination only toddlers posses.

“No, come with,” she stomped her foot, the last reminders of a crying fit moments ago long forgotten.

The woman looked at her with wide eyes, before bashfully smiling at Lando and turning back to Mila.

“Do you want to go to take a look at the animals with us?” she asked, making Mila nod with all seriousness.

“Yef, animalf,” she pointed towards the nearby camel, and the woman chuckled.

“Well, if your Papa has nothing against it, you can come with me and Maxie here,” she motioned to the boy who smiled at Lando’s niece.

“Oh I’m not her dad, merely an uncle,” the McLaren driver quickly corrected her, feeling a blush warming his cheeks. She was gorgeous. Clearly older than him, probably closer to thirty than to twenty, but the classic elegance and kindness made his stomach tighten and his hands sweat.

“Well, there is nothing like ‘merely an uncle’. You’re basically her Dad in proxy now,” she smiled at him, before offering her hand and introducing herself.

“Oh, eee… Bob. I’m Bob, and this little spitfire here is Mila,” he motioned to the girl who was already standing at the fence together with Maxie, both of them watching the three camels inside with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry again for the incident,” he apologized again but she only waved her hand.

“As I said, nothing happened. No broken bones or knocked out teeth.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the kids, before Max turned to his aunt.

“Auntie, can we get some snack?” he asked, his puppy eyes out in all force, making the woman roll hers before smiling gently.

“I guess we can. Want to come with us?” she asked Lando, who after a few seconds nodded. It wouldn’t hurt neither of them.

“Sure, why not. But,” he raised his finger, “I will pay.”

That earned him a chuckle from her and excited yells from the kids, and Lando offered her his elbow which she accepted before smirking.

“Well, I guess driving fast cars in circles earns some nice paycheck, right?” she added like it was nothing. But that little comment made Lando sweat, and not in a nice way. Looking at his horrified face she started laughing.

“We’re in Bristol, Mister Norris. You’re a superstar here,” she patted his arm gently.

“Don’t worry though. If you don’t say who you are, I will not. Now, off to the snack! Max wanted those strawberry pancakes they have in the bistro!” she pulled him with her like they knew each other for years, Mila and Maxie walking in front of them, the boy helping his new friend with her scooter.

And Lando? Once the shock from the realization that she knew him disappeared, he relaxed, and maybe… maybe a small hope for leaving with her number in his phone by the end of the day entered his mind.

Next

[a1307s]

So Pretty

(Wally West Smut)

[Art is not mine. Credit to unknown]

Requested by: dogma0325

Keys:

Y/N - Your Name

N/N - Nick Name

Word Count: 3110

Warning and/or Pre-notes:

Pervert/Slight Assault

Degrading

Name Calling: Desperate, Bitch, Bimbo, Slut, Good Girl

Choking

Face Slapping

Rough Domination/Submission

Hair Pulling

Scratching

Creampie

——————————————————————

"Mmhmm," I hum around my wine glass, keeping my eyes locked on the man in front of me. He's older - probably old enough to be Oliver's father - but he's one of the 'power houses' Ollie wants to partner with to further Queen Industries.

The grandpa continues on about the new what-cha-ma-call-it as his hand slides onto my knee. It might be anti-feminist of me to flirt and "show off" my body to gain partnerships but it's so much easier than pretending to care about what he's talking about. "I think Mr. Queen would be interested in it, don't you Miss Harper?" He asks, inching his hand further up the split of my dress.

"I think Ollie would be very interested. Would you like me to call him over?" I ask, sending not so secretive bedroom eyes over his way.

It doesn't take a genius to notice the way the man squirms in his seat before deciding standing would be an easier way to hide his arousal. "No, no, no. I shall walk you back over to Mr. Queen. What kind of man would I be having you beckon him over?" He asks, gently picking up my hand and kissing my knuckles.

Shivers run through me, followed by a wave of nauseousness. I quickly shove the feelings down and replace them with a smile. "How sweet," I offer up, trying to loosen my jaw, "Queen Industrials definitely could use more honorable men like you".

This brings a smile to the creeps face which is quickly hidden away with more kisses laid up my hand and across my wrist. When my nervous can't take anymore I stand up and turn to head toward the group of people surrounding Oliver. Creepy McCreep follows, placing a hand on my back that quickly descends down to grab a hand full of my ass as we walk across the ballroom.

"Y/N!" Wally - one of my older brother's friends - chirps out as we near the group. His eyes are a dark green - partly cause of the booze in his system and partly not. "I've been meaning to sneak over and say hi," He continues, making swift moves to place himself between McCreep and me.

Wally's arm wraps around my waist as he leans over to kiss my cheek. As he's pulling away, he stops for a beat to whisper in my ear, "Pretty pathetic of you to open your legs for a man like that".

My eyes glance over at Roy to see if he noticed but he - and Oliver - are too occupied with McCreep to notice Wally's words.

The speedster's arm stays on my waist, his finger tips digging into my hip as his mouth stays put by my ear. "I know I've been preoccupied with the whole hero gig but I didn't think you'd go pimping yourself out. Are you that desperate?"

"I'm not desperate," I bite back, keeping my voice low as well. For the past couple months Wally and me have been.... Friends with benefits, which has really gone to his head, especially in the bedroom.

"Seems like you are," Wally murmurs, softly sliding his fingertips just far enough under my dress to dig them into my inner thigh. "I thought we had an understanding N/N. I thought I made it clear that you - that your body, belongs to me".

"And I thought I made it clear that I'm not your girlfriend, Wally," I shoot back, still keeping my tone hushed.

"Get your ass upstairs. Now," Wally growls in my ear before letting go of me and standing up straight again.

"And if I don't?" I breathe out, tilting my head back to look up at Wally.

He tilts his head back down, his lips making butterfly touches to my ear as he talks. "If you don't, I'll bend you over the bar and let big brother dearest and Mr. Perv watch as I bruise you inside and out,".

I'm left to register Wally's words as he slips out from the group of high class Starr City citizens and walks out of the ballroom.

"Where's Wally going?" Roy asks, shimming into his friend's previous spot.

"Uh... Dick called?" I push out, making it more of a question than a statement. "I don't know, I couldn't really hear him,".

Roy thinks it over for a moment before shrugging it off and turning back towards the conversation. "Roy?" I ask, getting a hum as an answer. "I think I'm going to head to bed for the night".

"Okay, goodnight Y/N," Roy says back, giving me a side hug before I walk out of the group as well, quick to follow Wally's previous exit route.

My heart rate picks up as I climb up the stairs, heading towards my room where a very upset Wally awaits me. I slowly walk down the hallway, my heels echoing along the narrow space.

"Wally?" I call softly, pushing my bedroom door open before walking in. My nightstand light is on, eliminating Wally and making his red hair stand out against the green fabrics of the room. The air is thick with all of the speedster's emotions: Jealousy, anger, and arousal.

"Come here," Wally demands, his voice low, almost a growl as the words come out.

"No," I whisper, pushing my back to the door, causing it to latch close. Wally snaps up to his feet and takes quick paces toward me.

Before I can think, his body is pressed against mine, trapping me against the door. His hand is rough and heavy against my throat as he forces my head back to look at him. Wally's eyes are dark, almost black instead of his normal green color.

"I've had enough of you today. You've been prancing around pretty much naked making blow job eyes at every rich man that walks in. Do you know what that makes you look like? It makes you look like a desperate little bitch. Are you a desperate bitch? Are you Y/N?" Wally continually repeats the last two sentences, getting more and more in my face each time. As he repeats himself, he tightens his grasp on my neck so I can't answer him back.

"Aww, is the poor baby Harper struggling to answer me? Maybe if you weren't blowing every one of daddy's partners your throat would work, hmm?" Wally taunts, using his free hand to hoist up the skirt of my dress. His fingertips ghost over my clothed pussy before settling on the waist band of my panties.

Tears start to prickle my eyes as I gasp for air. My hands wrap around Wally's wrist, digging my nails into his arm to try and get him to loosen his grip. "P... ple... please?" I manage to get out between gasps.

Wally's eyes are hard, filled to the brim with jealousy as he looks at me. "Fine," He mumbles, releasing me. From the lack of oxygen, my balance is off when he lets go, causing me to fall to my knees at his feet. "Good, that's where spoiled bimbos like you belong," Wally adds, leaning down to grab my face with one of his hands.

My breath is heavy and tears continue to trickle down, rolling over his fingers as he squishes my cheeks. "You look so pretty," Wally says gently, his eyes softening just for a moment. "But that isn't an excuse for you to act like a free use slut at the gala." The words come out sharp, adding to the pool that's been forming between my thighs since I entered the room. "Is that what you want? To be treated like a free use slut? To be used where ever and whenever men want? Without you getting a say?"

"No," I whimper, grabbing at Wally's dress shirt. The material feels smooth and warm under my finger tips. "I don't want other men to use me. I only want you to use me," The words come out in a rush, sounding more like pleas than an answer.

This seems to satisfy Wally, getting me a rewarding soft kiss to my lips. "Don't worry N/N, I'll use you. By the time I'm done with you the only thing that'll be left in this empty little head of yours will be my name," He says, softly shaking my head through the last half of his sentence.

Wally releases my face, leaving me a mess on the floor as he walks back over to my bed. He plants himself on the edge of it, eyes locked on me as I stay kneeled on the floor, unable to stop tears from falling. "Come on baby, I haven't even been that mean to you," Wally says, patting his thigh to beckon me forward, adding a soft smile to his face to encourage me to obey.

I listen, crawling across the room to kneel between his legs. "You are so pretty baby," He says again, wrapping his fingers around my neck and leaning down to lick the tears off my cheeks. "So, so pretty,".

Soon the licks turn to soft kisses that end in a gentle kiss to my lips. When he parts from me, he continues littering butterfly kisses across my cheeks. His fingers are light this time, not the tight, oxygen stopping hold from before. "It makes me so sad when I have to correct your bad behavior,".

"It doesn't seem like it," I whisper out, closing my eyes to soak in the gentleness I'm receiving from the speedster.

In a split second the soft kisses are replaced by a slap across my face. My cheek stings as tears start to prickle at my eyes again. "You just can't stop while you're ahead can you?" Wally asks, forcibly turning my head so I'm looking at him again. "What am I gonna do with you little Harper?" He asks, rubbing his thumb across my cheek, causing the stinging to continue.

"Is it really that hard for you to keep your legs closed? Is it so hard for you to be grateful that I'm willing to correct your behaviors? Maybe I'm wasting my time," Wally mumbles the last part, letting go of my face and standing up.

"Please stay," I whine, wrapping my fingers around Wally's belt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I continue, burying my head in Wally's stomach.

"You're sorry for what?" He asks, fisting my hair in his hand to tilt my head back.

Wally looking down on me makes more shock waves ripple through me. I rub my thighs together, wiggling my fingers closer to the latch of his belt. "I'm sorry... for... for acting... desperate. I'm sorry for acting... like... like a spoiled bimbo," my voice weavers and my hands shake as I undo his belt.

In approval, Wally loosens his grasp on my hair but doesn't completely let go. His eyes stay locked on mine as I undo his pants and slowly pull his penis out of his boxers. I rest my hands on his thighs before leaning down, my hair pulling as I wrap my mouth around Wally's tip. I bob my head a couple times but can't get further down because of the grasp he still holds on my hair. "Nope," Wally says, using my hair to yank me back from his erection.

"No?" I whine, snaking my hands from his legs towards his cock.

"No," He repeats, using my hair to pull me to my feet before I can touch him again. He takes a second to admire me. My head pulled back by my hair, my legs shaking and covered in my own juices. "Strip," Wally says, letting go of my hair and sitting back down on the edge of my bed.

I obey, kicking off my heels before slowly peeling my dress off of myself. His eyes pierce into me, watching me shimmy out of my panties and unclasping my bra. I stand there, waiting for Wally's next command as his eyes rake over my body. "Can you please take your shirt off?" I whine, taking a cautious stop forward and sliding my hands under his suit jacket.

Wally fulfills my request, shrugging off his jacket before unbuttoning and sliding out of his dress shirt. "Thank you," I say, resting my hands on his shoulders.

He ignores me, grabbing my thighs and spreading my legs apart. "You really are a desperate little thing, aren't you?" He asks, bending his head down to lick the mess off my thighs.

"For you, yes" I breathe out, tangling my fingers in his hair. His tongue feels teasing, running over my thighs and getting close but not close enough to my pussy. "Please?" I beg as my legs continue to shake.

"Why should I?" Wally asks, removing his head from my thighs, replacing it with ghostly finger tips just barely grazing my folds. "You don't deserve it".

I don't answer him, and instead whine and tug on the ends of his hair. Wally planting a kiss on my stomach before pulling me on his lap. His dick is hard and warm pressed up against my thigh, causing me to be even needier. His eyes are softer now, some of the green coming back to them. "You are a needy little thing. Are you needy baby?" Wally asks before sinking his teeth into my shoulder.

His teeth hurt as he bites down, pulling out whines and mews from me. "Please?" I ask, tugging at his pants.

"Please what?" He asks, running his tongue over the bite mark, causing extra stinging sensations.

"Please fuck me. Please fuck my pussy. Please?" I beg, dragging out the last word.

"If it's your pussy, you can fuck it," Wally tells me, moving his hips so the head of his penis is pressed against my clit. He slowly moves his hips, giving me the minimum friction possible.

     I cling to his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin and burying my head in his neck. "It's your pussy, Wally. Please just touch me. Please?"

     A gentle hum comes from Wally, followed by his hand back in my hair and new vibrations being sent from his dick to my clit. "Are you sure it's mine? Seems like you were prancing it around and offering it up to everyone a little while ago".

     "It's... it's yours," I wheeze out, slightly dragging my nails down his shoulder from the new added friction.

     Wally doesn't reply. Instead he teases me by constantly changing the pace of the vibrations between my legs. His eyes stay lock on me, constantly raking across my body. My head pulled by back him, strands of loss hair clinging to the forming sweat on me. My arms wrapped around his shoulders with my fingernails constantly moving across his back and leaving my own marks on him. My legs trembling as juices spill out and coat my thighs along with Wally's pants.

     The tightness in my groin is seconds away from snapping when Wally stops and lets go of me. I whine at the sudden loss of my orgasm and tight my grip, causing myself to get closed to him. The head of his penis pokes teasingly at the rim of my opening.

     Wally's hand meets my bare waist before his lips met my collar bone. He sucks on it, sure to leave a bruise to form. "Are you going to be good? Are you going to behave and spread yourself out for me?"

     "Yes," I answer back, trying to scoot forward but unable to from the strong hold on my waist. "Please?" I whimper, sliding my hands from Wally's back to gentle tug on the ends of his hair.

Wally lifts me up as he stands. He's gentle when he lays me in the bed. When my back makes contact with my sheets, I let my legs fall open and put myself on display. A pleased hum comes from my partner as he drops his remaining clothes.

"So pretty," Wally purrs as he climbs between my legs. His hands are soft and slow as he rubs my inner thighs, kisses chasing after his finger tips. Wally weavers for a second at the end of my thighs before placing a teasing kiss to my clit. The kisses trail up my stomach towards my chest as he realigns himself with my hole. As the kisses climb up my chest towards my neck, Wally painfully slowly inches himself in me.

I whimper, wrapping my arms around his back again. "Wally," I whine, trying to push him further in me.

"Be patient," He whispers against my skin as his hands secure themselves to my hips. His pace stays slow as he continues littering kisses over my body.

"You're being so good for me," Wally says, starting to pick up his pace. My nails dig into his shoulder blades again as I slide my legs around his torso. His hands slide down to my thighs to hold me in place. "Whose pussy is this?" Wally asks, locking his eyes with me as he pounds into me.

I whine, sliding my hands to the nape of his neck and grasp the whiskers of hair that are laid there. "You", I peep out, squeezing my legs around him.

"Yes I am," He replies cockily with a big grin on his face. "Only I can make you feel this needy,". One of Wally's hands slides down from my thigh to start rubbing circles on my nerve bud. "Is my pussy going to cum for me? Is it? I bet it is with how desperate you've been," He taunts, his circles getting faster and his thrusts getting sloppy.

I opened my mouth to answer but the only thing that comes out is a moan. The knot in my stomach continues to tighten from Wally's actions. "Wally," I moan as the knot starts to unravel.

     "Good girl," He groans, "Just a couple more and then you can rest". His hands are heavy against me and my hips ache from the pace but I keep my whines of pain to myself.

As Wally said, it only takes a few more thrust before he comes undone. “Pull out,” I whine, trying to push him off of me.

“If I did I wouldn’t be able to mark you as mine.”

[readychilledwine]

Matching Wounds

Summary - The first High Lord's meeting after the war with Hybern brings some old memories up that Lyria and Rhys would have rather forgotten, leaving their mates to try to patch together wounds they can't see.

Warnings - degrading language, asshole brothers, hinting to PTSD without getting into full signs and symptoms

Prompt - Day 2 - Comfort

A/n - Happy @polyacotarweek! I've been asked about Lyria and Rhysand's dynamic as well as Azriel and Feyre's, and I felt today was a good day to give a preview into it, and into what Olive Branch will focus on, which is the comfort Rhys and Lyria found in each other UTM.

This is a non-sex based swinging dynamic. Rhysand is more of a secondary romantic partner to strictly Lyria, as Azriel is with Feyre, which is vastly different than the relationship we see in Fours Company between Lyria, Az, and Nessian.

💙 Meet Lyria Here 💙

✨️ Poly+ACOTAR Masterlist ✨️

There was a reason Rhysand had promised Lyria she would never attend a High Lord's meeting. She was clinging to him in his bed now as Feyre and Azriel just watched. Heavy sobs had turned into small sniffles as Rhys stared at the wall, eyes lost and hand moving absentmindedly along her exposed spine. 

Feyre had only gotten to see Lyria once under the mountain and now she knew why, “Rhysand's whore,” the term had been spat at her by her own older brother before he did truly spit at her feet. “Rhysand's Whore,” who had been trapped in his room. Wasting her days away in the same style of dresses Feyre wore, sitting on his lap the nights Feyre wasn't. 

It was ironic, really. The four of them, Eris, and Lucien all knew Rhysand never touched Lyria, never laid a finger on her skin until they had agreed to this, yet to the outside world, Rhys had already had her in ways Lyria had never experienced. 

Feyre knew from the bond that Rhysand was lost in his own mind as well. Lost in the regret he felt. Lost in the images of different red hair, paler skin, and dead eyes. 

“Ideas?” She whispered softly to Azriel. 

“Dinner and leaving them be,” his scarred hand still held Feyre's perfect one. “It's all we can offer them. You and I do not know what happened to them fully. We do not know what brought them together. We just know Rhys refused to be away from her and brought her here once you freed everyone.”

“Do you want to fly to the bakery they love and pick up dinner with me?”

Azriel rose a brow before kissing her tattooed hand. “Of course.”

Rhysand felt himself clinging to Lyria. Clinging to the soft fabric of her dress, clinging in her textured hair, clinging to the scent of her skin. He loves Feyre. Loves her so dearly and completely, but the comfort he found in Lyria was unmatched. 

She had been there during his darkest nights, whispering how she saw him, how she knew him beyond that mask he wore. 

And now she was paying the price for being his comfort. “Rhysand's whore,” the name replayed itself in his mind over and over. He had watched it land on Lyria. Watched the light in her eyes flicker, watched her shrink into herself, watched her push Azriel, Nesta, and Cassian away.

But she clinged to him. The same way he did her. She wanted him, but she waited until they were home. Amarantha's whore and Rhysand's whore. What a fucking pair, he thought bitterly. 

Lyria had her head buried in Rhysand's neck, breathing in his scent and feeling it wash over her. She thought nothing of it as he laid them back, running fingers through her hair. “Our mates went out.” 

She nodded, feeling his warmth as his head turned to hers. “They shouldn't miss date night because you and I are sad.” 

Rhys simply hummed, hand going to the hair at the back of her head and tilting her face up toward his. “No, no, they should not.” Rhys continued to massage her scalp as whiskey eyes held his. “You know nothing they said was true, right?”

“It does not make it hurt any less. Even if my brother was just saying it as a mask. It also doesn't make those memories of that place go away.”

Rhys understood all too well, pulling her impossibly closer. “I'm sorry I could not protect you soon.”

A soft kiss hit his jawline. “And I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.” 

“He doesn't need protection. Big bad illyrian baby,” Feyre's voice was sarcastic as she and Azriel came back to the room, bags of food in hand. “We are going to leave you two alone, but we brought you your favorites.”

“Why leave?” Rhys rose a single brow, but refused to look away from Lyria. “We Should all eat together. Be together.”

Azriel looked to Feyre, the two of them communicating silently. “We can feel you two wanting to be alone. We're offering that.”

Lyria sighed. “Sometimes wanting to be alone isn't the best answer. Stay. We can all take comfort in each other and all help each other get our minds off what happened.” Azriel looked to Feyre caving as he walked her over to the couches. “Come on, mister High Lord.” Rhys rolled his eyes as he was pulled over, Lyria sitting beside him as Azriel sat beside Feyre. Silence was between the four of them, relishing in the safety and comfort of each other. 

“So, is no-one going to talk about it?” Lyria's face grew into an all too familiar snake-like grin. “Surely you all saw the absolute monstrosity of an outfit father was wearing.”

Azriel smirked at his mate, “Gossip.”

“Learned it from you,” she turned to Feyre. “And you.” She kissed Rhysand's cheek, “And most definitely from you. Now talk about my family with me to make me feel better.”

“The little things make you happy, don't they, darling?” Rhys turned her jaw. “Such a simply pretty girl.”

Feyre's eyes lit up. “The prettiest girl.”

“My pretty girl,” Azriel reminded them. 

“Our pretty girl.” Rhysand and Feyre both said.

“Our pretty girl who deserves all the affection tonight,” Feyre continued. “Maybe she and I will run away and you two can brood and compare shadows.”

Azriel took his turn choking before laughing. “We don't brood all the time.”

“Yes you do.”

Lyria leaned into Rhysand's shoulder, feeling lighter from the distraction. I love you, he sent into her mind. We all love you. You are safe here.

So are you, she reminded him. You are safe and loved, too. This is a good distraction. They are stunning together.

It is, and they are. She loves Azriel very much. By the way, it's not Beron's worst outfit to date. 

Lyria's eyes grew wide turning to Rhysand as Feyre and Azriel continued to agree playfully. “Show me?”

“Of course, darling.”

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[neuroprincess]

So I’ve got an idea for a Schmentti family request.

Luca meeting his baby sister for the first time.

Like I feel that it would be the cutest thing ever. And you would write it so well! Just an idea, I love this series so much!

Hi sweetie! Hope it met your expectations. And thank you for your request ♡ oh that's very sweet and kind of you ^^

LuLu's Sissy - Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Summary: After a long week Olivia is finally home to meet her older brother, but Luca's reaction is not at all what they expected.

Classification: Domestic fluff

Warnings: Breastfeeding (?)

Word count: +2300

Unrevised

When the couple came through the front door, they hoped that their firstborn would be taking one of the dozens of naps he takes during the day or too busy trying to catch Barb's eye to notice their arrival. Sweet illusion! As soon as Melissa turned the key, they could hear the quick little footsteps running towards them, along with the playful giggles of someone who had done something fun. It didn't take long for the boy to wrap his arms around the older woman's legs, almost knocking her over in the process, without much idea of how big and strong he had become over the last few months. As well as being bigger than expected for age and than his kindergarten friends, Luca is an affectionate little bear who loves physical touch, tight hugs and curling up wherever he can in search of a comfortable lap, something he always gets from his mothers, no matter the situation. But this time the attempt is frustrated, the teacher's arms are full of maternity bags and some of the presents that were left at the hospital, while Y/N balances the baby comforter where the new addition to the family sleeps peacefully, oblivious to the commotion around her.

"Good morning, my little man!" Melissa greets in a loving whisper, dropping off all the items on the nearest armchair, the short journey from the car to there was enough to give her a slight backache "Did you behave today? Or did you give your godmother a hard time?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

With usual childlike honesty, the boy just shakes his head "no," then nods "yes," his chubby cheeks quickly taking on a rosy hue, showing he's a little embarrassed, which draws a laugh from the adults in the room. He's still dressed in dinosaur pyjamas, and his coppery hair is slightly messy, the ends forming adorable curls.

"It's all right! We'll give you a pass for being cute. Now, are you ready to meet your little sister?"

"Mama..." he points to the large pink item, still covered in a thin patterned blanket, curious "Momma!" then calls out to the youngest, who, since he started forming sentences, has also been able to distinguish them. Mama and Mama Mel are obviously for Melissa; Momma and Mum for Y/N; Mummy for both and on rare occasions.

"Yes, sweetheart?" she asks, crouching down to her son's height, watching his olive eyes light up in realization.

"My Sissy?"

Barb, who has just finished organizing some children's books previously scattered on the coffee table, observes the interaction between the little family. Her godson, usually agitated and not very tactful, walks on tiptoe and puts a little finger in front of curved lips, repeating "Shhh" so that everyone is silent as he tries to get closer, just as she taught him hours before. After a long week under observation, the newborn was finally released to go home, miraculously without sequelae or any complications, to the relief and joy of her moms. She can say with certainty that it was the worst week of her friend's life.

Nothing compares to the moment Olivia Ann came into the world, giving everyone a fright, premature, small enough to fit in a shoebox and asleep, making the redhead's heart skip beats and her blood run cold. After the scare came the worry, it was a terrifying experience in every respect and both hesitated even to hold her, she seemed so fragile, as if she were made of glass, and any wrong move could break her. Neither of them got enough sleep and never stopped worrying until Liv finally reached the ideal weight for her eagerly awaited release. Her eyes meet her friend's and they share an affectionate look, full of gratitude and pride.

"I wanna see her!"Luca speaks a little louder, jumping up and down in excitement, barely able to contain himself "I want my Sissy."

"You'll see her soon, LuLu." Y/N assures him and is about to pull up the blanket to finally show him his little sister when she starts mumbling, which soon turns into a loud cry, potent for a small human being "Oh, I think Liv's hungry."

"Sissy want cookies?"

"No, bambino." Melissa strokes his cheeks and picks him up so that he's at their height "She doesn't have any teeth yet."

The boy grimaces in disgust and then laughs at the thought of someone with no teeth, it sounds too silly, especially for someone who bites everything, like him. Teeth are essential! This makes him even more curious. It took a while for the toddler to understand what a sibling is and that he would soon have one, just as it took him a while to understand the concept of babies, since for Luca he is still one. And it's for this reason that he is shocked when the blanket is pulled back to reveal the newborn, about the size of his teddy bears, incredibly red and screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Mommy! Aunt Barb! Sissy a chicken?"he asks, wide-eyed "Sissy ugly." and concludes, knitting his eyebrows together, it's not what he was expecting.

They burst into laughter, of all the reactions and expectations they had, this was the most surprising and funny. He stares at them in confusion, he doesn't see how this is funny, this can't be his Sissy, can it?

"No, no, love." Barbara manages to say between laughs and moves closer, helping the younger with the baby comfort "She's only small, babies are like that when they're born."

"Ugly?"

"You think that Olivia is ugly?" Mel is amused and hugs him, stroking the full hair as he nods positively "Well, amore mio, you looked just like her when you were born."

"No! No!" the boy is indignant, refusing to believe it "LuLu is cute!"

"So Olivia is cute?"

The question confuses him, and thinking hard with the unique reasoning of a two-year-old, he shakes his head "no" again.

"Sissy is ugly!"

He lays head down on his mother's chest, hiding an annoyed pout, and watches as the pair take the little girl out of the accessory, then place her on Y/N's lap so that she can be breastfed. Of course, the child doesn't know what he's feeling, it's something that bubbles in the pit of the stomach and may be quite irrational, but Luca quickly becomes jealous. Until a few months ago he was the one on his Momma's lap and could feed himself to his heart's content, until this was taken away from him, between small bribes and a lot of patience. Only now to be replaced by a newcomer who, in his view, is stealing what belongs to him.

It doesn't take long for Luca to start grumbling and squirming until he escapes from the redhead's arms.

"Aunt Barb! No!" he asks his godmother for help, pointing to Y/N who is sitting on the sofa, crying when the woman doesn't do what he wants "I want my Momma too!"

Melissa sighs and exchanges a sympathetic look with her wife; they know that this adaptation phase is going to be difficult for the little one. Despite his personality and all the preparation they have done for the arrival of their second child, nothing changes the fact, already proven to be hereditary, that Luca Schemmenti is jealous by nature. He's had all the attention on himself so far and isn't used to sharing, least of all the most important things in his life, his moms.

"You'll always be our baby, LuLu. Our prince. But now Liv needs us, Mama and Momma will take care of her too, just like we take care of you, caro. She's our family, mine, yours, ours." she whispers and strokes his flushed face, wiping away the tears running down cheeks "And you have a very important role now, you're a big brother."

"And do you know what big brothers do?" Y/N continues, he denies it, the crying ceasing in sobs "Big brothers learn to share, they also protect and love their little siblings A LOT."

"I don't wanna share my Momma!" he insists and rushes over to the youngest, hugging her legs as she straddles the daughter who immediately starts sucking desperately on her nipple. "You're mine!"

"LuLu, I'll always be yours, but I'm also of Liv, of Mama too."

"My Mama?"

"Yours."

"Liv hers too?"

"Yes, bambino." Melissa sits down on the sofa and pulls him onto her lap again.

"And Liv mine?"

"Yes, your little sister, your Sissy."

Only then the boy realizes how close he is to her and maybe she doesn't look so ugly when not crying. She yawns, showing her gums without any teeth, and it brings a smile to his face. It's really funny. He bites the inside of his lip, trying to take in the concept that, after months of hearing about Olivia, she's finally here. It's not what he expected, the complete opposite, and although it's frustrating, it's still his.

He nods, showing that he's understood what he's being told.

"Do you want to touch her?"

Luca nods again, still unsure, and brings a hesitant hand close to Olivia's tiny feet. He remembers how mommies always tickle him before bed, it's fun and always makes him happy. With a smile and not so shy anymore, he tries to replicate the gesture, little fingers dancing in search of a few laughs, but before anything can be done, Melissa gently holds his arms.

"Careful, LuLu." she says softly, placing a kiss on his forehead "She's very, very, very small, Liv isn't ready to be tickled like you yet."

"Cause I'm big boy?" the question is ambiguous and they don't understand whether he sees it as a good or a bad thing.

"Yes, love! Because only big boys get fun tickles from their mommies." Barb sidesteps the situation and sits down in the armchair opposite the Schemmenti, leaning over to continue talking to her godson "And when your sister grows up, you'll be able to give her lots of tickles."

"Okay..."

The toddler makes a stubborn little peck, but it doesn't last long as he is pulled closer by the redhead, his chubby arms wrap around her neck and gives her a kiss on the chin, only to hide his face in the crook of her neck. He absolutely loves Melissa's perfume and playing with her necklaces, calms down and makes him feel safe.

When Olivia has finished feeding, a time that seemed like an eternity of torture to him, Y/N carefully settles the newborn on her lap so that their son can see her better, a difficult task considering that, like the firstborn, she can be very demanding in some ways. Liv, satiated, opens her little eyes for the first time since they arrived home and Luca, amazed, leans in for a closer look, full of curiosity. It's fascinating, he watches all her little reactions, from one of the spasms that make her smile to her sleepy stretching.

"Amore mio, you can't tickle her, but you can hold her hand, do you want to do that?"

This makes him happy and without a second thought he gently touches the baby's little hand, which closes around his fingers instantly. The boy opens a surprised and genuine smile, beginning to accept and understand that this small, strange and slightly ugly person is his sister, whom he has been waiting for long months. Barb, watching the scene with a warm smile, can't resist taking out her smartphone and recording the moment. She takes a few photos, capturing Luca's cute expressions that oscillate between curiosity and a growing affection for Olivia. Melissa and Y/N stare at each other, thrilled to see the connection forming between the two, immersed in this unique little moment, their two children officially getting to know each other.

"See, LuLu? She already likes you," the youngest encourages him, running a hand through their son's hair, curling one of the soft locks.

"I like her. My Sissy."

"Yes, Luca," Melissa agrees, hugging the boy "Your Sissy, forever."

He snuggles closer into Mel's embrace, letting out a satisfied sigh. The siblings' hands are still together, his little fingers caressing her soft skin, a very common little gesture of affection that he always shows to those he loves, a detail that doesn't go unnoticed by women, a sign that, despite the initial shock, he has begun to understand the significance of this new addition to the family. This fact warms their hearts, the little family is complete with the arrival of Olivia Ann.

Until a few years ago, the eldest had never imagined the possibility of motherhood and now she is the mom of two little angels, gifts from her wife, someone who has given her a new perspective and chance in life. For a brief moment, she almost wanted to follow in her parents' footsteps and have a baseball team of her own, but only if they came from Y/N. The house she bought, when still married to Joe, never felt like a home until she entered her life, her treasure, gradually making it more complete, all her baggage with Melissa's constituting a beautiful marriage, which years later brought Luca and was completed with Olivia. The once empty walls are filled with family photos, the floor with toys and children's books, a soft smell of freshly baked cookies comes from the kitchen and the sun illuminates the living room, every corner and detail filled with love in one of those perfect moments that you want to keep in mind for eternity.

Y/N smiles as she realizes how far away the other is in her thoughts and leans in to join their lips in a tender kiss, both are tired, a little sleepy and extremely proud of the family they have built for themselves. It hasn't been easy and it won't be as their gremlins grow up, but all the challenges and rewards of motherhood along with the life shared with Melissa is something she wouldn't trade for anything in this and other worlds.

Suddenly, Luca's curious little voice broke the silence of the sweet moment.

"Momma, when Liv go her home?"

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[semisgroupie]

THE WOLF AND THE FOX

stepbro!oliver aiku x fem. reader

wc: 3.4k

warnings: STEPCEST, oral sex (f!receiving), oliver eats it from the back (as he should), unprotected sex, creampie, reader gets a call in the middle of sex and is forced to answer it, spit, spanking (just a couple), possessiveness, virgin reader, corruption, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), manipulation, slight dumbification (kinda)

synopsis: the fox always gets what he wants

a/n: this is for star’s @killsaki family ties collab!! thank you for digging deep and fueling our filthy thoughts and desires

Oliver was a good step brother. He stepped up to the role fairly quickly and did whatever he could to take care of you like an older brother should.

You had been living with him for about 10 months, he insisted on you moving in with him after you graduated college and were looking for work. You jumped at the opportunity, there was no reason why you would decline the offer anyway. But moving in with him had its downfalls.

The main thing was you had to get used to all the women he had over. You knew about how insatiable he was when it came to women. Often hearing about how he broke up friend groups because he ended up sleeping his way through each friend or seeing his swollen cheek or drink stained shirt because he introduced girlfriend 5 to girlfriend 9, thinking it would be a good idea. But it seemed like once you moved in with him, the number of girls he had over increased exponentially. Which only meant you had to hear more arguments, deal with more awkward mornings when his late night lover was in the kitchen eating something of yours, see more drinks dumped on him.

Honestly you held off on putting yourself out on the dating scene because of your step brother’s antics. It made you nervous and even more hyper aware to find the right person to date. But now you think you finally found Mr. Right.

A guy who you used to go to school with, Nio Kazuma. You both had been harboring a little crush on each other while you attended school and after reconnecting, Nio asked you on a date. In your eyes he was just perfect. He was kind, caring, very protective over you and treated you like a queen.

The day finally came for your date and you spent most of the time in your room rummaging through your closet to find the perfect outfit. In the end you settled on a pastel purple sundress and threw on a white cardigan on top. You gave yourself a final once over in the mirror then left your room. Oliver sat in the living room and looked over at you when he heard footsteps. “Wow, what are you all dressed up for? Having a girls night?”

You shook your head and made your way over to him, “nope! I have a date tonight with this really nice guy. He’s supposed to take me out to dinner then we’re going to a comedy club.” His eyes widened a bit at your exclamation. A date? You’re going on a date? You were never the type to be interested in guys and going out on dates but here you were prancing in front of him with a cute sundress. For some reason he felt this burning sensation in the pit of his stomach and felt it spread through his veins to the rest of his body. He never thought of himself to be the jealous type but he couldn’t fight this feeling crawling up his throat. He had to come up with something quick to deter you from going on this date and the gears in his head quickly started turning.

“A date? Dinner and a comedy show, huh? You know what this guy might want at the end of the night, right?” Your eyebrows furrowed at his words and you shook your head, prompting him to continue with his lie. “Okay, there’s two types of guys, the fox and the wolf. The wolf is very open about their wants and desires and makes everything known, they’re not the guys you should look out for. You need to look out for the fox, they’re more cunning and conniving. They’re methodical and make you think they’re the nice guy but they want the same thing the wolf wants, a one way ticket between your legs.” Your eyes widened at his words and you quickly opened your mouth to defend Nio but Oliver beat you to the punch. “I know what you’re gonna say, ‘but he’s not like that. He’s a really good guy’ I’ve heard the same thing millions of times, I’m just trying to say be careful. You like this guy, so let me help teach you some things that he would like so you don’t embarrass yourself when you’re back at his place.”

Your mind was spinning with all the thoughts that were swarming around. “Come here.” He patted the spot on the couch next to him and you sat down. He turned to face you and leaned in a little closer. “Oliver, what are you going to teach me?” He lifted one hand to caress your cheek and smiled. “Everything you’ll need to know when it comes to please a man. You trust me don’t you? I’ve never led you astray, have I?”

You chewed on your bottom lip and thought about his questions for a moment, while he was the one that made you wary about relationships, he never did betray your trust. He always remained your confidant, your shoulder to cry on, your best friend and your older stepbrother.

“Of course I trust you. You haven’t given me a reason why I shouldn’t trust you.” Your innocent words were like music to his ears. “Good, first thing I’ll teach you is how to kiss. Just follow my lead.” He cupped your cheek and used his grip to pull you closer to him before he finally placed his lips against yours. He could taste the sweetness of your lip gloss and it was already intoxicating. You didn’t know what to do with yourself besides following his lead and once you felt like your lungs were burning, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled away. You panted and looked at his kiss swollen lips, faint traces of your lip gloss coated them. “You’re already an ace, it’s coming naturally to you. But you just need to focus on controlling your breath, what’s best is if you breathe through your nose a little. What’s also best is if you come straddle my lap, I won’t have to worry about losing my grip on the couch and crashing my face into yours.”

You nodded and got up from your space on the couch next to him and straddled his lap. “Ready to try again?” You nodded as he cupped your face again and brought you close to him again, you shut your eyes and his lips were on yours again. This time the kiss was a little rougher, you felt his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance but when you didn’t allow it he snaked his hands down your body and roughly grabbed your ass, making you gasp against his lips. Once your lips were parted for him, he shoved his tongue into your mouth and explored it with the pink muscle. Your hands gripped his shoulders tighter and you whimpered against his lips before he pulled back completely. You felt a fire starting to burn in your loins, it was a foreign feeling but you knew that he had the cure to the ache.

You adjusted yourself on his lap and unintentionally grinded yourself against him, his bulge rubbed deliciously along your covered slit. You let out a soft gasp against his lips and moved to do it again and again. Oliver knew you had no idea what you were doing to him but your little mewls and whines were just driving him insane. He wanted to be patient but he just couldn’t wait anymore. He broke the kiss and squeezed your hips. “Let’s go to your room, wrap your arms around my neck and I’ll carry you there.”

You followed his orders again and he lifted you with ease. You nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck as he walked to your room with wide strides. Before you knew it, you were set on your bed. He looked down at you and you looked back up at him, he knew he had to take his time with you and he had to fight every instinct within him to not just pounce on you like a wild beast. “Okay, so we finished the kissing lesson. You’re already a pro but let’s move onto something more fun. I need you to turn on all fours for me.” Just because he knew he had to be slow with you didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge a little.

He watched as you moved on all fours with your ass to him, he moved his hands up your thighs and lifted up your dress so he could see your panties, a cute lavender with a growing wet spot. “So beautiful.” He groaned to no one in particular and hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, he slowly pulled them down and let out a guttural groan at the sight of your swollen pussy and the strings of arousal that still connected you to your panties. He barely got the fabric past your soft thighs before he leaned in and licked a stripe along your slit. A whimper left your lips and your hands gripped at your bedsheets. “Oliver, what are you doing now?”

Your voice was just as shaky as your legs and he had to hold back the urge to chuckle. “I’m eating this cute little pussy out, I promise it’ll feel good. Just close your eyes and focus on the feeling.” He pressed a few kisses to the backs of your thighs and trailed them up the curve of your ass before meeting your pussy. His stubble tickled along your skin but another feeling soon overpowered anything and everything else. His broad hands cupped the globes of your ass and his thumbs went to your pussy lips to spread them, he groaned at the sight and saw your virgin hole clench around nothing.

He was salivating at the sight and puckered his lips to spit on your cunt. The action made you gasp, it was so lewd but already felt amazing. He watched the trail of his spit travel down your hole to your clit then leaned in to devour you. He first focused his attention on your clit, flicking the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue before he wrapped his lips around it and started sucking gently. You moaned and mewled his name at all the new sensations that coursed through your body. Your limbs felt like jelly and if it weren’t for his strong hands holding your legs up, you’re sure you would’ve collapsed onto the bed by now. After taking the time to focus on your clit, he brought his mouth up and started circling his tongue around your entrance while one of his thumbs moved to press firm circles onto your clit. Your toes curled and your mouth fell agape, some saliva pooled in the corner of your mouth and started spilling onto the bed, adding new stains to your sheets.

Everything he did just added more and more cotton to your already fuzzy head and you felt yourself succumbing more and more to the pleasure. Your moans of his name grew louder and higher pitched as you felt a knot tighten in the pit of your stomach and it was going to snap any second now. His free hand groped and massaged your ass and delivered a few light spanks to the plush skin. He pulled away from your pussy just for a moment but his thumb continued to rub circles on the swollen bundle of nerves. “Just let go for me, don’t hold anything back from me.” With that he went back to your pussy and pulled his thumb away from your clit to replace it with his mouth. He gave your clit a few harsher sucks and the knot building in your stomach finally snapped. You shut your eyes as your body trembled and you felt some tears prick at your eyes. He continued sucking and licking up everything you had to offer him and only pulled back when you let out a whine of his name.

“Sorry sweetie, you just tasted so sweet. It’s been a while since I tasted a virgin but my cute little step sister has the sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted.” He cooed and helped you roll over onto your back. Your eyes were half lidded as his heterochromatic eyes stared back at you, drinking you in. He leaned down and kissed you and you could taste yourself on his lips. You lost yourself when his lips molded against yours and let out a little whine when he pulled back.

“Don’t worry, I promise I’ll give you more kisses. I just want to do something with you. This is the final thing you’ll need to know when it comes to pleasing a man.” He pulled down his pants and boxers and your eyes widened when his cock sprung out. It was thick and looked heavy. “I’m going to go very slow, okay? Just hold onto me and take very deep breaths.” He spit on his hand and used it to lube up his cock before he positioned himself between your already spread legs. He put the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance and gathered some of the slick left behind then started pushing his cock into you.

Your hands flew to the sheets and you gripped them tightly as he started to stretch you out. “Oliver—hurts!” It was all you could cry out at tears gathered at your lash line. His eyes focused on your face and he felt his cock throb. He knew he wanted to take his time with you but you looked so divine and so innocent, he just wanted to ruin you further. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, I’ll give you some kisses to distract you and I’ll rub your swollen little clit, okay?” You nodded and he leaned down to kiss you softly, his hand moved between your bodies and rubbed gentle circles on your clit to try to distract you as he pushed more of himself inside. He continued pushing himself into you until he bottomed out completely.

He lifted his head and broke the kiss to look down at your face, your eyes were watery due to the tears that had been spilling from them and your lips were kiss swollen and parted just slightly. “You look so beautiful like this, I’m glad I’m the one who gets to see you in this state.” Here you were, completely ruined for him.

He waited for a few moments for you to completely adjust around him and once he felt that you had loosened up and relaxed a little, he started thrusting. His thrusts were slow and precise, he took his time, feeling every bump and ridge of your walls. It was like you were made for him and he almost felt like cursing himself for not tempting you sooner. How could he get distracted by other women when you were there? When you were his for the taking the second you moved in with him?

Before he could get too lost in his thoughts your phone started ringing. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked over at your phone before reaching over to take it off your bedside drawer. “Who’s Nio?” He didn’t stop thrusting into you and you were too immersed in the feeling of his cock dragging through your walls. He shook his head and quickly put two and two together, he figured out that Nio was probably the guy you got all dolled up for. So instead of letting the call go to voicemail, he answered it for you and brought the phone to your ear. “It’s Nio, why don’t you tell him you won’t be able to see him tonight? Actually, tell him you don’t plan on going out with him ever.”

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Nio’s voice pulled you out of your cockdrunk trance and your eyes widened as you tried to bring the phone back to Oliver. He shook his head and smiled sweetly at you, “answer the phone.” You chewed on your bottom lip and finally responded, “sorry Nio, just give me one quick moment.” You muted the phone and looked at your stepbrother, “if I have to talk to him can you please stop thrusting, I can’t focus on anything and I don’t want him to hear anything.”

Oliver laughed and delivered a particularly hard thrust to your g-spot. Your back arched off the bed and you gasped. “Just answer the phone and explain why you’re not able to go out with him.” You unmuted the phone and brought it back to your ear. “Sorry but I won’t be able to go out with you tonight. Something came up.” You covered your mouth to muffle another gasp when Oliver hit your sweet spot and bit down on your bottom lip. “Oh really? Then maybe tomorrow? I just really like you and I want to see you. And are you okay? I thought I heard something.”

Oliver picked up the pace of his thrusts as you tried to come up with some excuse that would sound better than what was actually happening but instead of words, a string of moans and gasps left you. Nio’s eyes widened on the other end of the phone and Oliver leaned down to pick up your phone and brought it to his ear. “Listen, she’s busy right now so why don’t you go find some other girl to take out on a corny little date, instead of my little sister? And if you keep trying, just know that I won’t let anything happen. But I’ll make sure you hear it from her lips instead of mine.”

He brought the phone back to your ear and continued thrusting into you, thrusting harder and faster as the burning pit of jealousy burned through his veins. “Go on and tell him who’s making you feel so good.” You opened your mouth to object but he brought down his free hand and pinched your clit, making you cry out his name. “Now tell him that he could never make you feel as good as I make you feel. Tell him that no other man can make you feel the way I’m making you feel. Tell him that you’re all mine.”

You felt the knot from earlier tighten in your stomach and you looked at Oliver with half lidded eyes. He had you and your impending orgasm in the palm of his hand and if you didn’t follow his orders then he’d rip your pleasure away from you. “Only Oliver can make me feel good! Only him and no one else! I’m all his!” He smirked and brought the phone back to his ear, “you heard her yourself, now I have to get back to making her cum and after that I’ll fuck her full of my cum to really mark her as mine.” He hung up the phone and tossed it to the side as he continued his aggressive pace, making the knot that was tightening finally snap.

You moaned out his name and he leaned down to press his lips against yours as he helped you ride out your orgasm. It only took him a few more thrusts before he filled you with his cum. He groaned against your lips and pulled back as the white ropes painted your walls. He slowly pulled out of you once you relaxed around him and laid down beside you, pulling you close to him. You leaned into him and traced your fingers along his arm that was draped over your middle. “Did you really mean that? I’m yours now?”

He chuckled and traced small shapes onto your skin as he leaned in close to kiss your cheek. “Of course I did. You’re all mine, if you want to be. I just think that my cute stepsister deserves the best.” His words made heat rise to your cheeks and you nodded. “I want to be yours Oliver but right now I want to sleep too.” He nodded and covered both of your bodies with your comforter.

He continued tracing small shapes onto your skin until he heard your even breaths and smiled to himself. He was more than glad that you didn’t really think too much into his story of the wolf and the fox because if you did, then you’d realize that he was the fox that he warned you about. But he would never give you the time to truly think about the story, how could you really think about anything if he continued to dote on you and give you mind numbing pleasure?

taglist: @litepowee @suyacho @satmitsuplanet @benkeibear @bluelock4life

[t3a-tan]

Romantic and Hopeless (9/?)

First / Previous / Next

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As they arrived at the cabin, Oscar pushed open the jammed door with some effort, before blocking it back up. Some of the windows were smashed in, but Freddie and him had covered the broken windows with wooden boards. The cabin was still cold, but it was mostly sheltered from the elements. The lights obviously didn't work, but there was enough natural light for now and Oscar had brought a lantern with him.

He removed his bag of supplies, tossing them onto the wooden floor and letting out a sigh of relief now that they had reached their intended destination. I don't think Ryker will find us here…

He glanced towards a cricket bat that was sitting in the corner. He and Freddie decided to keep a weapon inside just in case they needed it for some reason. At least I'll have something to defend us with. Not that it'll do much against a gun…

Walking over to the old dusty sofa that had been leftover by whoever lived in the house before he sank into it with another content sigh. Then, as he caught movement from the corner of his eye, he smiled warmly seeing Sammy crawling out of his pocket and across the chest of his puffy jacket.

“Crazy that your cousin happened to live here, ent it? And he rides birds? That's cool as fuck.” He couldn't imagine being so calm and confident riding on the back of something so massive. He felt nervous enough looking at it whilst human sized, let alone as a borrower.

Sammy was not as impressed. It was still weighing heavily on her mind; the fact that Oliver was clearly not afraid of humans as a borrower should be— and he was reckless enough to try taming a bird? A bird of prey no less?? Clearly he had a few screws loose.

Yes, Oscar did seem nice enough for a human… and yes, the bird was well-trained…but a borrower without caution was as good as dead. Yet, Sammy still couldn't help her admiration and care for her cousin… he was more like an older brother to her after all; having lived with her parents since she was born.

Oscar noticed the lack of response and the way her eyebrows furrowed in frustration, clearly deep in thought thanks to his comments. He tilted his head, smile dropping slightly.

“Hey, you okay Sammy? You're spacing out a little. Am I too close?” Not that he could do much about it considering she was standing on his chest… still, he glanced towards the cobweb covered side table and decided against offering to place her there.

Sammy snapped out of her spiralling thoughts as the warm breath of the human facing her washed over her body, sending a shiver down her spine. She looked up to meet his gaze, a frown still apparent on her expression.

“Just…fretting about Ryker, that's all…” She lied, rubbing the back of her hand anxiously and averting her gaze. “What if he manages to find us here? That would put Oliver in danger too now.”

Oscar leaned his head back in thought, realising she was right. But then again…this seemed to be Oliver's home, so he would have a much better chance surely.

“I mean… he's stayed hidden this long, I'm sure he'll be okay.” Oscar tilted his gaze downwards towards her again, tilting his head slightly and offering a reassuring smile as his brows furrowed with uncertainty. “And we will too. He's not gonna find us.”

Sammy let out a breath from her nose, her hand moving up to rub her shoulders as she hugged herself.

“You don't know him like I do. He's…he's smart. He's…too observant. Sometimes I'm not even sure he's human…” She shuddered again. “And most importantly, he has connections. I-I…I don't think I'm ever gonna feel safe with him just…out there.”

As she curled into herself more and more, Oscar felt a growing urge to hold her again. He quickly shook that feeling away; although he could tell she seemed like someone who found comfort in physical affection, it seemed more self-soothing. He could understand not wanting to be touched.

“I…understand…”

He leaned his head back again, looking up at the ceiling which was thankfully mostly intact as he formulated a response. Once he had one he sat up just a tiny bit so he could see her better, but not enough to make her ground unstable.

“It's okay to be worried… but I will protect you, okay? I promise. I wouldn't let anything happen to my soulmate…” His words were sincere, and he hoped that they would bring her some comfort…he was a little confused when she froze up. “What's up?”

Sammy stared up at him, shocked.

“Y-you knew!?” Her tone was a melting pot of emotions; anger, fear, distrust, disgust, relief. Her cheeks burned hot, but it felt more like shame than the usual nice fuzzy feeling she got around him. She felt tense and on edge all over again.

“Oh shit— sorry it just slipped out.. I— you seemed really averse to me knowing, but it was kind of obvious and I just—!” He cut off his hasty attempt to save the situation when he saw that she had tears appearing in her eyes again, her glare venomous. His words caught in his throat, a sinking feeling coming over him.

Sammy knew that it was a secret that would come out eventually…and yes, it had been obvious she was Rabbit, but why did he pretend? Why didn't he acknowledge it? Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security? Make her trust him just enough that she could be taken advantage of?

After all she had experienced, her relationship with this kind of attraction had become skewed. The thought that Oscar may be looking at her as someone who was attractive made her feel gross and want to pull away. Though, as she looked up at Oscar her glare faltered slightly, seeing that he looked so genuinely…hurt.

“Sammy— what…I don't understand why it upsets you so much.. I- uh… do you not want me to be your soulmate?” He asked, tone soft and even a bit shaky.

Sammy bristled at the question, her glare disappearing entirely. She bit her lip, averting her gaze and gripping her arms tightly, enough for her nails to scratch skin. She didn't know how to articulate how she felt about it. About him.

“I…don't know. I do…but I just..” She ran her hands through her hair, brows furrowing in frustration. Her expression seemed to change every second, all of the mixed emotions whirling around inside of her to make a confusing distressing mess. “I-I don't want…I don't want me…to be your soulmate…”

As she said that her gaze focused up on Oscar again, posture shrunken and uncertain of her words. I'm not making any sense. He's just gonna be angry at me…

Oscar was relieved when she said she did want him as a soulmate…then immediately confused by her next statement. He ran through it a few times in his head trying to decipher the meaning. So…she likes me, thank god. But she doesn't want me to like her?

“You know I wouldn't ever pressure you into anything, right? I'm not… if you just wanted to be friends forever, that's fine. I-I want to keep you safe because I like you, not because I want anything from you.” He could only imagine what she thought of him and those images made him feel sick to his stomach.

Yet at the same time…he couldn't fault her. Everything that she had been through was still so fresh on her mind, of course she was going to be more reactive. And Oscar really was telling the truth; that he wouldn't mind if things never went past a friendship, as long as that's what Sammy wanted.

Sammy was still conflicted about things, but seeing how sincere Oscar was and hearing what he said made some of her worries go to the back of her mind again. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart as she wiped at her watery eyes.

“I'm sorry… I-I just don't want you to look at me like…the other humans…” Humans are monsters…but Oscar seems safe. At least right now. Ugh…why is it always so uncertain? She felt some guilt for her instinctive reaction— even more so seeing how Oscar was continuing to be so nice to her even through her constant distrust and distress.

She held his gaze, tensing in surprise when a reassuring smile found its way onto his face again. She could tell he still felt sad; his eyes were still staring down at her…not with pity, but with concern? Remorse? Resolve?

“It's okay. I promise, I would never look at you that way. I respected and admired you when you were still Rabbit, and I respect and admire you now as Sammy. Nothing will change that…” He assured softly, making Sammy relax. He continued, though his tone became more light-hearted. “Well… maybe if you did something crazy like blow up a building I would be a little concerned.”

Sammy laughed wetly at his joke, wiping away the last remaining tear streaks from her face. She found herself genuinely smiling this time, although the realisation of that fact made her falter and avert her gaze again, cheeks flushing red.

Oscar chuckled slightly at her reaction, only to apologise as he saw how his chest moving up and down made the ground much less stable for Sammy.

“Sorry… Do you want to move to one of the arms so I can sit up?” He asked, though it was more of a request really. Sammy looked towards the arm of the sofa Oscar was leaning on and began to walk across. She moved slowly, trying to avoid putting much weight on her injured ankle as she slid the short distance down from the human's shoulder to the arm of the seat.

Oscar watched the process for a few moments, seeing that she was struggling to move at a faster pace, but also knowing it was best not to offer help here. He tried not to stare, eventually looking down at his hands again as they rested against his stomach.

Once he was sure she was no longer on his person he sat up slowly. He then leaned down and began to dig through his bag, pulling out his phone and a granola bar. Putting his phone beside him, he opened the bar before looking down at Sammy again with a warm smile.

“You didn't get to have breakfast yet, so I figured you might be hungry. I'm a bit peckish too, but I reckon I can spare enough for you.” He spoke light-heartedly, breaking off a piece and offering it forward between his fingers. “It has bits of chocolate in. I remember you said you liked chocolate once before.”

She at first shuffled back as his fingers approached, a cautious but not as purely terrified expression on her face. She took a wary step forward and took the chunk from Oscar's grip, then stepped back again and sat down. She looked the granola over, her expression lighting up as she noticed there were indeed chocolate pieces inside.

“You remembered? I swear I said it off-handedly…” She looked up at him, feeling a little…flustered over the fact that he had paid enough attention to recall that fact. Not to mention happy; she hadn't had chocolate for a long while— but it was a taste she couldn't easily forget.

Oscar chuckled softly again, raising the bar to his lips.

“Of course I remember. It's something we have in common.” He nodded his head towards her in an almost bow.

Sammy snorted, and began to nibble on the granola. As soon as she took her first bite she realised how hungry she was and had to restrain herself from just scarfing the whole thing down immediately.

While they ate, Oscar noticed the sound of flapping wings before spotting the same tiny man from before, Oliver, entering through a crack in the bottom of the jammed door. He had a bigger bag with him this time, and was dragging an extra bag in through the crack. Once he was through he slung it back over his shoulder and walked further into the open.

“Oh, hey. You're back.” Oscar greeted with a wave, staying seated and silently wondering how heavy those bags would be to him if he was that small…

Sammy had finished her chunk of the granola bar by now and she peaked over the edge of the arm of the sofa, her eyes focusing on her cousin right away.

“Hi…”

Oliver smiled and waved up at the two.

“Hello.” He looked to Oscar specifically next, asking politely. “Could you give me a hand up please?”

Oscar blinked at the direct question. Usually he was asking Sammy if it was okay to pick her up, so being asked the opposite took him off guard for a moment. He snapped out of it a second later, nodding and bending down, offering a palm to lift the borrower up onto the sofa.

Once he had lowered his passenger onto the same arm that Sammy was on, he spoke up again.

“What did you end up fetching..?” He asked curiously, moving his hand away again once the man had stepped off. “Looks heavy.”

Sammy couldn't help but also feel curious. She watched as Oliver opened one of the bags and pulled out some clothes…. Socks, shoes, a coat— warm things. Her eyes widened in realisation.

“These are…mum’s.”

Oliver nodded.

“They’re for you. You'll catch a cold if you don't wear something more appropriate for the weather… It might be a bit baggy, but I brought Auntie's old clothes since I thought you would have better luck fitting into them than my own. I have thread to make it fit better anyway, if changes need to be made.” He explained.

Sammy was hesitant to touch any of it, her hands shaking as she reached towards the clothes. But they…are hers. I might ruin them… After a few more moments of staring, she looked towards Oliver for reassurance, to which he offered an understanding smile and nodded.

“Something well-worn is something loved.” He pointed out. Hesitantly, Sammy slipped on the socks, immediately relieved by the extra layering. She hadn't had socks to wear for a long time. Or anything really, besides the gown she was wearing right now.

Sammy tried on the shoes and put on some shorts. Although the shorts were a bit baggy, they could be tightened by pulling a string which made them fit more comfortably. Looking down at her now clothed legs, it felt…comfortable. Warmer, definitely.

She glanced towards Oscar, only to see that he was looking at his phone, seemingly texting someone, not looking at her. Some of her anxiety faded again.

“And look who else I brought—”

Sammy bristled at Oliver's words, her face reddening as she immediately caught onto what he was referring to. She spotted Oscar looking over from the corner of her vision and she immediately tried to block Oliver from his view when she saw that he was indeed holding a stuffed bunny.

“Ollie..! Put him away..!” She whisper-yelled, already pushing the bunny back down as her face burned with embarrassment. Oliver gave her a knowing look.

“Oh. You want me to take it back to my burrow then?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Sammy's eyes widened and she snatched it from his hands, not wanting to give it up as much as she also felt embarrassed about Oscar potentially seeing it.

“Is that…a teddy?” She spun around as Oscar's voice rumbled close by, yelping slightly upon noticing he had leaned in to get a look. Her face was still flushed, and she hid it behind her back again, as much as she knew it was already too late. A soft chuckle sounded from above. “Hey hey…nothing wrong with that, Sammy.”

Recognizing her embarrassment, Oscar moved away again, rummaging through his own bag.

“In fact…that makes this conversation much easier.” Sammy watched in surprise when he pulled out a stuffed dog. The redness on her face cooled slightly and her grip on the stuffed bunny loosened, no longer hiding it behind her back. “Meet doggy. I know, not a very creative name…but hey. I named him when I was a baby.”

Her brows furrowed before she averted her gaze, slowly lifting the rabbit and presenting it towards Oscar’s smiling face.

“...Messy… His name is Messy.” She murmured, the heat returning to her cheeks once she actually uttered those words, finding herself unable to look in Oscar's direction for the time being. Her heart was racing in her chest once more.

Oliver watched the interaction with interest, buttoning his bag closed again. He had seen Oscar's gentle nature and he very much approved, feeling more confident about letting Sammy stay in his care for the time being.

He had some important questions he needed answered, but for now he was content to see his cousin alive and happy. He waited a few more moments before clearing his throat to get their attention on him again.

“Now then… what is the danger you're both hiding from?”

[separatist-apologist]

Long Live

Summary: All archeologist Elain Archeron wants is answers about the past.

Fate is determined to give them to her

MASSIVE thank you @abbadinfluence for having the idea AND allowing me to write - I've had the time of my life, this has been so fun.

And @octobers-veryown for being my personal Rome/Italy consultant- thank you for your knowledge, your time, and most importantly, catching when I used a particularly offensive and/or wrong swear word

For @elucienweekofficial | Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

Elain waited until she and Arina were alone to turn to her friend. Arina was one step ahead of her. “We’re fucked,” she said in English, face devoid of any true color. “He’s basically got us under house arrest.” 

“They don’t trust us,” Elain said, taking an anxious breath of air. The last three days had been something out of a nightmare. They’d been arrested, put in chains, and then transported from the country estate to Rome, during which they’d been groped and threatened with assault more times than she could count. Elain had never known true fear until that first night outdoors, camping with a group of leering, bored soldiers. 

She couldn’t enjoy seeing Rome, well aware of where they were being taken. Mamertine Prison was a church in the present day, built over the bones of prisoners sent to languish while they waited out their sentences. Elain had expected some low level judiciary to come and decide their fate. Not the newly crowned Emperor himself, accompanied by his older brother. Nor had she expected Arina to react so viciously once they were so close to freedom.

“We simply have to convince them they can trust us.”

“And how do you intend to go about that?” Arina demanded, picking through the clothes set out for the two of them. They knew enough combined history to get through this, she decided. If they could convince the Emperor they were no threat, Elain believed they could make their way back where they’d started and get back to their own home before they changed history. 

“Well, for starters maybe we should stop biting patricians?” Elain said, rounding on her friend sharply. 

“He’s no better than the soldiers who dragged us up here,” she snarled furiously. “He saw two unprotected women and decided we must exist for his pleasure.”

“Of course he did!” Elain hissed softly. “They’ve never even heard the word feminism. You know women are not on equal standing with men. Stop biting them.”

“If he puts his finger in my face again—”

“No biting.”

Elain turned, looking at the spacious room that belonged to her and her alone. Arina had been given a suite just down the marbled hall but had immediately followed after Elain, prompting two servants to lay clothes out for the both of them nervously. Elain knew what was waiting and was desperate to put her hands on true, Roman garments.

“Why aren’t you panicking?” Arina demanded.

“What good would it do to panic?” Elain asked, tennis shoes squeaking against the marble. The heat coming from the nearby hanging lamps made the room feel warmer than was comfortable, and Elain was quick to fling open the shutters of her window so cool air could push in. “Besides…haven’t you always wanted to see Rome as it actually was?”

“Not really,” Arina said, trailing after Elain apprehensively. “Not like this. What if we can’t get back, Elain? Or worse, what if the Emperor decides to make us some other man's problem?”

“This is Rome. We’ll simply kill him if he tries,” Elain said with far more bravado than she felt. Her room overlooked the garden, replete with beautifully manicured hedges, rows of olive trees, and flowers so vibrant she almost didn’t believe they were real. 

“Elain, I’m serious. Aren’t you afraid?”

“Yes,” she admitted, turning back to the room made of marble and gold. Elain knew if Arina wasn’t so scared, she’d be examining the pillars and telling Elain all about the brush strokes and how the tiles beneath them had been cut. Elain, too, wanted to examine the palace piece by piece, committing it all to memory. Her phone was still in her pocket, the battery at seventy two percent. She could take pictures if she was careful…and then, what? No one would ever believe her.

Maybe just to have once she got home. 

“We need to leave,” Arina hissed, her urgency echoing through Elain’s skull. 

“What we need is to be careful. We were spared once, but I don’t think they’ll be so forgiving the second time. Better to play pretend and wait for our moment than to rush out and get thrown back into prison. Or worse.

Citizens were made slaves all the time, after all. Lucien could make them prostitutes in the eye of the law if he wanted and no one would be able to stop him. Here, at least, they had access to means and the privilege that came from being a patrician woman. 

“He could do horrible things to us,” Arina reminded Elain, standing in the middle of the room with her arms wrapped around her chest. “Things he might think are kind.”

“Then we simply have to convince him not to,” Elain replied, thinking it was easier said than done. “Women might not be allowed a true voice, but there are plenty of Roman women who ruled behind the throne. If we can make him care about us, we can thwart the worst of his machinations. He’s a new Emperor, he’s about to meet his wife…he won’t have a lot of time to spend worrying about us.”

“You’re right,” Arina breathed, closing her eyes before exhaling slowly. “If we blend in and give them no reason to think about us, we can slip out in the night.”

“Or better, he’ll put us on a horse with gold in our pocket.”

“So what now? We just…play dress up?” Arina questioned, finally turning toward the stola. “Drink wine and lounge in the sun?”

“We could explore the city?” Elain suggested, reaching for the red dyed garment. “Tell me, doctor. Where do you think the fabric of this dress comes from?” 

“Egypt,” Arina said, rubbing her fingers against the lenin. “It’s not silk.”

“If we could bring this back—intact—think of—”

“Are you crazy?” Arina hissed, cutting Elain off before she could finish her sentence. “We can do nothing. Make no suggestions, inform them of nothing, do not rip any wings off a butterfly. We aren’t supposed to be here, Elain, and we can’t go around meddling.”

“It’s not meddling. It’s history,” she protested. “And if we’re not supposed to be here, why are we here?”

“Maybe we’re not. Maybe we just ingested something toxic, breathed in too much lead. We’re probably in the hospital having a really vivid hallucination.”

Elain sat on the edge of the bed, sinking into the feathers and straw with delight. Covered in blankets, the mattress was softer than she might have imagined. “This isn’t a hallucination. It’s real.”

She’d thought the same thing when they’d first come through. Elain didn’t believe it anymore, though. They’d been gone for three days and some of her panic was beginning to subside into excitement. They were in Rome at the height of its power and living with the current emperor. Elain knew, from having memorized Lucien’s journals, that he would be meeting Helena soon if he hadn’t met her already.

She didn’t need to meddle—she could merely watch, go home, and reconstruct what she knew. If she could just find out what family Helena belonged to, Elain was certain she’d could piece together whatever tragic fate the empress met. 

Like he so often did, Graysen’s face wormed its way into her memories, flooding her with guilt. She needed to get back—where was her urgency? Arina certainly had it, pacing the room like a caged animal. She’d become wilder by the day, viciously spitting curses at the Roman soldiers who’d dragged them to the prison cell, and again when Eris had tried to touch her.

She was afraid in a way Elain simply wasn’t. She ought to be—oh, how Elain knew she should be scared. They were at the mercy of a time period that valued women even less than the one she’d just left, under the care of a man who didn’t know them at all. They had no one to vouch for them, no refuge in which they could seek shelter in. No one to advocate on their behalf. If they angered the Emperor, he could have them exiled or worse.

And yet…Elain simply wasn’t worried about any of it. She believed they’d be fine, that Lucien would continue to be hospitable, and they’d make their way back no worse than they’d come through. If she was honest with herself, Elain felt a small measure of relief. She didn’t have to make a decision about her own life so long as she was here.

Sure, Graysen would move on eventually, but Elain didn’t intend to be gone for years. Maybe just a month—long enough to have one last, grand adventure. Maybe living in Rome would put some things into perspective for her, besides. Help her make a decision on her own life and relationship.

What did it say about her that she didn’t miss him?

Nothing good.

“Bath?”

Arina threw her hands up in the air with exasperation. “You’re not taking our situation seriously.”

“I am. I’m just realistic. We can’t go anywhere and I don’t want to sit in a bedroom all day. Don’t you want to see how they lived?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“The pipes here are made of lead, Elain. Lead. You’ll be drinking lead tainted water—”

“We’ve been drinking it for the last three days and I feel fine,” she replied, though it did worry her a little. “And we can drink more wine than water, if you’re really that concerned.”

“You want to bathe in lead tainted water?” Arina demanded.

Elain whirled on her friend, her frustration mounting. “There is no deodorant here and I smell like shit from two days of traveling and a night spent in an ancient prison. The water could have sharks in it and I’d still risk it.”

“You’re gonna dress up like a proper Roman lady?”

“Yes, because the alternative is letting them think we don’t belong, grow suspicious of us, and do something horrible. We need to play along, Arina…and we need to stop biting Consuls.”

“I hate him,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

Elain only shrugged, beckoning for her friend to follow her out of the bedchamber. The hall was brightly lit from both hanging lamps and nearby arched windows that allowed light and air to pour inside in equal measure. It was here that Arina seemed to relax a little, running her finger tips over the gold encrusted walls with awe. 

“Look at this,” Arina breathed, pausing beside a Corinthian style column. “To see it…just…wow.”

The pair touched the marble on the column, craning their necks to look up at the ornate estatis just at the top. The whole thing was pure decoration and though Elain knew it had been built a good several decades earlier, the marble was pristine and vibrant. 

“This is real,” Arina breathed.

Elain couldn’t help her smile.

This was real. 

LUCIEN: 

Lucien was having a difficult time focusing. He ought to be listening to important business of the empire…and yet his eyes kept sliding to the open window where Elena was, walking through his garden in a vibrant red stola. No one had done her hair and so she’d left it wild like a child, half hidden beneath a palla pinned into her dark curls. Lucien was so curious about why she wore it—he had it on good authority she wasn’t married. Was she widowed? 

Did she not know the custom? He was woefully uneducated about life in Brittana, perhaps all women wore the palla. Maybe she was worried about her modesty like a good Roman woman ought to be? The only way to know was to ask and Lucien couldn’t ask without revealing to the men around him that he’d rather spend his time talking to a woman rather than dealing with important matters.

But he did want that. He wanted to try and piece together her rather charming accent…and if Lucien was honest, he wanted to touch her. Wanted to touch the coils of curls blowing in the breeze, wanted to run a knuckle over her unblemished cheek just to see if her skin was as soft as it looked.

He wanted to do other things, too—things that were wholly inappropriate if he was to find a suitable husband for her and get her out of his home. And then he’d spend the rest of his life wondering what it was like to have a woman like that in his bed, until he inevitably took her as his mistress, pissing off whatever man he’d arranged for her in the first place.

Problems for future Lucien, certainly.

Turning his attention back to the room, Lucien’s eyes slid to the map laid out before him. He wanted to invade Germania and succeed where so many before him had failed. Taking that northern territory would allow him to hunt down the saxon’s that plagued his coastlines, too, and take back the treasure they’d been plundering. 

There were a few routes they could take in, but crossing the Rhine was Lucien’s preference. He’d been there during the first campaign and had assisted in building the bridge they’d used to cross—it had terrified the Germanic barbarians to see the might of Rome, sending them scattering further into the interior.

Lucien could build roads and bridges all he liked—getting through the forests was what plagued them. They didn’t have the tactical advantage and Lucien refused to go if defeat was the only path forward. If he was going to lose men, it was going to be in service of victory.

Agreeing to reconvene over wine that night, Lucien sent his advisors away for the time being, intending to meet with a few generals—and Jurian, who would lead his campaign—later that week. Just in time for the games to begin and spread the right amount of propagare that would convince the people of his authority.

Above all else, Lucien needed the backing of the people of Rome just as much as he needed the army. He was drowning in tasks, which didn’t explain why Lucien began his descent into the gardens the mere second he was alone. It was shameful to be so curious about a woman, especially one his brother had accused of being a whore and yet…Lucien’s father had always been especially taken with his mother. There had been no infidelity on his fathers end unless you counted the time he’d been sleeping with Amera while she’d been married to Beron.

Beron had divorced his wife for political reasons and Helion had merely swooped in and married her quickly and quietly before anyone could truly object. And then, when Beron was made Emperor, Helion took off for the outer provinces…just to be safe. It hadn’t been until Lucien had been a man and called back to the city that Helion dared to return, too.

Lucien just needed to know if another man had a claim to her. That was all—it was practical, he swore, adjusting his toga so the purple was especially vibrant in the afternoon sun. He knew he ought to cut his long, auburn hair to conform with the more fashionable short styles and yet…Lucien had left it long because he liked it. It had started on the battlefield, curling around his neck before the length straightened it all out. It had been a joke among the legion he was in—they always knew where Lucien was because of his lovely, effeminate hair. 

What had begun as a joke had somehow transcended Roman norms and though some of the older patrician’s threw him a dirty look now and again, the rest of them didn’t seem terribly bothered so long as Lucien kept it neat and pulled out of his face. No braids or beads like the barbarian’s wore, no adornments of any kind. When he worked, he often tied it off his neck in a bun to give the illusion of short hair.

At least it wasn’t a beard, he reasoned. 

He found Elain among the olive trees, one hand outstretched to touch one of the leaves. Lucien cleared his throat, hands clasped behind his back.

“Where is your friend?”

She turned abruptly, eyes wide. “She ah…” Elain bit her bottom lip. “She found the library.”

Lucien nodded. “Do you like to read?”

She shrugged. “I prefer being outdoors.”

“Do you spend much time outdoors?” he asked, noting the freckles dotting her nose. She must and yet her skin didn’t betray any of it. Most women preferred to stay indoors, far from the sun's vicious kiss that too often left their skin lined and leather-worn. 

“Do you?” she replied, looking up at him through thick, dark lashes.

Lucien offered her a lopsided grin. “Of course. Especially when I have diverting company. Walk with me?”

“Only if you agree to answer all my questions.”

Something warm spread through Lucien. As he’d risen through the ranks, women had begun treating him differently—respectfully. In his mind, he was always thinking of Jesminda and how he’d been just another nobleman’s son and no one special at all. She’d teased him, taunted him—had wanted him without any of the fake modesty he loathed. Lucien had been fortunate to marry for love, once, and having had a taste of true marital bliss, he didn’t want the Roman arrangement his peers often found themselves embroiled in. Jurian was all but married to a woman he barely knew. It was a good prospect for him, if for no other reason than it increased his social standing and available wealth. Lucien didn’t need to worry about any of that anymore, though he would be a fool if he thought he could snub the fellow patrician families and choose just anyone.

Including the beautiful woman standing beside him. She was Roman and yet he knew she had no connection to anyone of importance in the city. He might as well declare himself in love with a barbarian princess and be done with it.

And he wasn’t. In love with her, that is. He was merely fascinated by her mouth and the way her curls caught the sun, making them seem almost golden in the right light. And Lucien had to admit he liked the sound of her voice and the rolling way she spoke.

“I’ll answer anything you ask of me,” Lucien agreed, offering her his bare arm rather selfishly. He just needed to know if her skin was as soft as it looked. She beamed up at him, the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his entire life, and accepted. Her fingers were warm, gliding over his bare bicep without a care in the world. What would she look like adorned in gold, he wondered?

“How are you enjoying yourself?” he asked before she could get one of her own questions out. He didn’t need to answer anything if he did all the talking. 

She considered his question and only after her silence stretched did Lucien consider that she did not speak Latin as well as he thought. He gave her space, walking her over a careful, stone laid path around the olive grove.

“Your hospitality has been generous,” she began carefully, fingers fidgeting in the pleats of her dress. “I’m sure Arina and I would be fine living somewhere on our own—”

“Who will protect you?” Lucien demanded, getting close to the question he was most interested in. “Two unmarried women shouldn’t be alone in the city.”

She nodded, not disputing his words.

Lucien pounced. “You’re not married?”

She glanced up at him, eyes narrowing. “No, I’m not married.”

“Why?”

She took a breath. “I have a fiance—”

“A what?”

She murmured something under breath in a language he didn’t understand. I forgot french hasn’t been invented yet. He didn’t like that Britanic language—it was too harsh, too angry to be coming out of such lovely lips.

“I am…sponsalia?” 

Lucien blanched. “To who?”

“He lives far from here.”

“And he let you leave unaccompanied?” Lucien demanded, thinking if he met this man, he’d kill him for his cowardice. What kind of man sent his future wife on the road alone where any number of horrible things could happen to her? No, that man was no man at all. Elain had been overtaken on the road and had she not found his home, who knew what might have happened to her?

Lucien didn’t want to think about it. 

“He trusts me,” she said foolishly. What did trust have to do with reality, he wondered?

“And look at how well that worked for you both,” Lucien replied, unable to keep the bite from his words. “You were set upon by bandits and then imprisoned for being a spy. If my brother had his way, you’d be working with the local prostitutes and your fiance would be disgraced to have ever been attached to you.”

Her cheeks reddened, not with shame like he expected, but anger. “Don’t do me any favors, Caesar.”

Why did he like it, he wondered? And yet… “Do you consider this a favor, Elena?”

“I did.”

“And now?”

She kicked a clod of dirt with her foot. “I feel like an imposition.”

“Disavow him,” Lucien commanded, halting in his tracks to look at her. “Say he means nothing to you.”

“I…”

“Disavow him and I will put the backing of Rome behind you,” he swore, wishing he had his sword to swear upon. 

“I can’t—”

“You will.”

It was wrong, perhaps, to force her into ending whatever marriage she’d been entered into. The bond clearly wasn’t strong if he was willing to risk his future wife. Perhaps he hoped something would happen to her. The thought angered Lucien.

“Please don’t,” she whispered, but Lucien’s mind was made up and he would not be denied. 

“Then call him to Rome to answer for his treatment,” Lucien ordered, certain she would not do that. Elain rounded on him, hands on her hips and he wondered with delight if she would deny him.

“So you can slaughter him?”

“You wound me. I believe in the rule of law—”

“What law did he break?” she demanded and oh. She had him there. Technically the man had done nothing other than offend Lucien. Wasn’t that enough? He was Emperor, why should he be offended by some man from Britannia that didn’t value his soon-to-be wife? 

“You broke laws,” Lucien reminded her, scrambling for anything that would give him validity. “Your father is responsible—”

“My father is dead,” she said, some of the fire in her eyes extinguished.

“Then your brother or uncle—”

“I have none.”

Lucien offered her a smile so saccharine it tasted sweet on his tongue. “Which leaves your soon-to-be husband to answer for your crimes. Call him or disavow him.”

Elain looked up at him, arms crossed over her chest. “And if I disavow him, what then?”

Lucien’s grin widened. “I would be delighted to accept responsibility for you and find a suitable husband.”

“A terrifying prospect,” she grumbled. Lucien was half decided on who he’d marry her to—no one he knew was good enough for her. Was he? He wanted to find out. The more she spoke, the longer he breathed the same air, only made him want her more. “Fine. I disavow him. He means nothing to me, I owe him nothing.”

“Would he mourn your death?” Lucien asked curiously, tilting his head to the side. She blinked, eyes strangely glassy.

“I don’t know,” she finally said as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Lucien’s body went taut for a moment, eyes tracking the way she moved. He felt like a predator back on the killing fields, sword in hand even as he prepared to have his life ended. She could end him, too—not with a weapon but her words, a look, a touch. If she would not marry him, Lucien would take her in any way he could get her. He would deny he’d touched her if that's what she asked, would keep her as an ornament in his home and raise their illegitimate children. She had no father, no brother, no husband. No man who could deny him, though Lucien could not have been denied even if she did. 

Reaching for her chin, Lucien forced Elain to look at him. Elena, he thought with pleasure. She’d need a more Romanized name to be accepted by the people. Would she like Helena, he wondered? He was getting ahead of himself and yet Lucien felt settled.

Pleased, too.

Holding her gaze, he said, “I would mourn you.”

“You don’t even know me,” she replied, drawing a soft, shaking breath.

Lucien shook his head. “I feel the opposite. I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life.” Like he’d been waiting for her. Guilt slithered through him, hot and oily as he remembered Jesminda. He’d once said the same thing about her. Was he the kind of man who could forget love so quickly? Lucien couldn’t help his foolish heart. Looking at the woman beside him, far paler than she’d been when they’d first begun talking, he knew he had his work cut out for him.

He could demand her hand—could assert himself as the sole authority over her and then demand she wed him. And Lucien could imagine just how well that would go. He’d have her in his bed, but she wouldn’t be willing, wouldn’t want him. He knew plenty of men with disinterested wives, who submitted out of duty but not desire. Having tasted love with Jesminda, Lucien wanted it again. Wanted it so badly he was willing to toss out tradition, at least until she got to know him better. 

“Come,” he said with an easy smile, “let me show you the fountain. It’s my favorite.”

—

Arina didn’t care what Elain said—they needed to leave. Elain was too struck by the history of it all that she’d forgotten they were living in an ancient human civilization that was so far removed from their own that any number of horrible tragedies might befall them. Elain had, if nothing else, seen the toilet situation.

Holed up in the Emperor’s library, Arina forced herself to sit in a chair that was deeply uncomfortable, a book laid across her lap. On any other day, finding a first edition transcription of Aristotle’s teachings would have been a dream—she could touch it. Now, though, Arina couldn’t even enjoy herself. 

In truth, she was terrified. Obvious problems aside, they had no way to get back, no way to escape. There were far worse things between Rome and the estate they’d broken into beside just Lucien and his army. But if they could steal a horse, could get some coins…well. Arina figured they could be long gone before anyone in the capital even realized they were missing.

And with some knives—ideally with poisoned blades—they’d be in decent shape. They couldn’t take on a good swordsman, but how many highway robbers were any better than them?

Arina heard the sound of leather on marble, heard the high, bronze doors open and without seeing who came in, she just knew. Eris. He was the blueprint for all modern Italian men—arrogant, certain of his own greatness, and desperate for a woman to subjugate. Just like her father, she thought darkly. He strolled in, dressed like the immaculate senator he was. Did he know that Arina knew everything about him? The would-be Emperor, ousted by his own father who knew ahead of time, had planned to kill his son. He hadn’t suspected Eris had conspirators, but he had destroyed every soldier who might have taken the city for Rome and alerted Helion who then moved quickly to ensure his own son took the city before it could fall into the hands of some hated rival. 

Eris survived—thrived, even. He lived just as long as his brother, had a whole host of children with a foreign born woman known only to history as Agripina, and seemed generally happy in his later writings. Arina had never cared much for this period of time outside of the art, the sculptures, the architecture. Now, though?

Well, Arina would be an expert at this rate. 

Eris made his way into the large atrium, amber eyes finding hers. His impassive expression shifted into a frown, his disdain plain. 

“Who taught you how to read?”

Arina cocked her head and smoothed her blue stola beneath her hands. “Are you looking for lessons?”

She really shouldn’t test him—knew that he could make her life exceptionally difficult. And yet it was fun to see his gaze sharpen and his spine straighten as he recognized the challenge. 

Striding toward her, Eris plucked the book from her fingers to examine the writings. “What do you know of Aristotle?” Arina wanted to laugh in his face. More than he did, she’d wager. “Enough.”

He handed the book back, closing the leather bound cover carefully before doing so. It was tempting to tell him that his own wife would be so literate that in his final years, she was the one who wrote down his every thought. 

“You’re excused,” Eris informed her dismissively, turning toward the arching windows overlooking the garden. He made his way toward them, hands folded behind his back, to do the same thing Arina had been doing—spying on Elain and the Emperor. 

Elain was so beautiful that every man who saw her fell a little in love with her. It wasn’t unusual for men to stop Elain on the street spouting sonnets about her beauty or begging for just ten minutes of her time. If Elain wasn’t careful, he’d be demanding she marry him before the week was out and they’d be in real trouble. 

Arina rose to her feet, unwilling to argue with Eris. She couldn’t argue with him as far as she remembered. His word was law even in this place, and even over her. 

“Che cazzo,” she hissed under her breath, well aware Eris had no hope of deciphering the actual meaning of her words. Italian wasn’t a language anyone spoke yet. Eris’s head whipped around all the same, eyes narrowed to slits.

“What barbarian tribe are you actually from?” he asked, crossing his arms over a broad chest.

Adopting her most brain dead smile, Arina said, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“That language…” he wrinkled his nose with disdain. “Is lingua latina not spoken even as far North as Britannia?”

Arina couldn’t help her laugh. If only he knew. “But of course.”

“Tell me.”

“Why? So you can accuse me of any number of untrue things?”

Eris took a soft breath, nostrils flaring. “If I swear not to accuse you?”

“I would still lie,” Arina replied with that same saccharine smile. “Surely you understand the importance of speaking multiple languages? Or can you not speak Greek?”

“I don’t speak any of the barbarian languages—”

“Yet,” she interrupted, holding his gaze. “But who knows? Maybe in five years you’ll need someone who can.”

“What were you really doing in my brother's home?”

Arina’s eyes slid over his shoulders, toward the dots that were Elain and Lucien standing before a marble carved fountain. Studying it. She so badly wanted to tell him the truth—to tell someone all of her fears, of the nightmare she currently found herself in. She couldn’t. Arina pressed her lips shut, eyes returning to the man standing before her.

“I’m going to find out,” he warned her softly. “I’m a terrible enemy to have.”

She only shrugged, heart thudding roughly in her chest. “I’ve already told you everything. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

She was nearly at the door when he called out, “‘Che cazzo.’ What does it mean?”

His Italian wasn’t awful—certainly less offensive than when Graysen had bid her a good day in the choppiest drawl she’d ever heard in her life. Arina knew better than to tell him the truth, and yet…

“Capitium,” she said, using the Latin for little head as Eris’s expression darkened. Dick. She could call a man a dick in every language. 

Pleased with herself, Arina attempted to flounce from the room, satisfied she’d at least cut Eris down to size. It didn’t solve any of her problems but it did make her feel better.

She was nearly to the hall when strong fingers wrapped around her bare arm, pulling her back flush against his chest.

Lowering his mouth to her ear, Eris murmured, “The next time you reference my cock, I’ll assume you’re asking to see it.”

“You disgust me,” she whispered without thinking.

He only chuckled, low and soft. He smelled nice, a mix of spices she didn’t immediately recognize. Shouldn’t all men reek of body odor? This one, especially, ought to smell like sewage given how handsome his face was. 

“I’ll bet you’d say that on your knees.”

Arina elbowed him roughly in the ribs, certain he would do nothing but let her go. There was the faintest echo of outrage etched on his features, but more horrifyingly, she found something that read like a challenge gazing back at her. That was dangerous, especially in a place where men could do whatever they liked to women under their protection. 

Forcing herself to smile, Arina wrenched from his grasp to look up at the tall warrior gazing back at her. “If you put your cock in my face, you’ll regret it.”

“Such a filthy mouth,” Eris all but crooned, undeterred by the threat. “I look forward to using—”

She knew better. Oh, Arina knew better even back home, than to slap a man. It was dangerous back home where men were prone to violence when provoked—and literally anything might provoke them.

It was worse, here. He already thought her a barbarian, knew she had no male relative to watch over her, and just barely tolerated her. The two of them stood there, chests heaving as a patch of red bloomed across his cheek. Arina’s palm stung from the force of the blow, hidden behind her back as if she could take it all back.

Bracing herself for his fury, Arina steeled her spine even as she flinched back. Eris watched, head slightly cocked, his own hand rising not to strike her back, but to touch his face. Arina wasn’t going to apologize—he had no right to speak to her that way.

And still, she was scared. 

Eris exhaled through his nostrils. “Watch yourself,” he warned her, lifting his chin as though that might salve his wounded pride, “or I’ll put you in the military since you want to fight.”

Arina exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “I—” I’m sorry. “Of course.”

Eris gestured for her to leave, turning his head and Arina, not willing to stick around and test his good will, tripped over the skirt of her dress in her haste. At the end of the hall, she turned to look over her shoulder, surprised to find him still standing in the archway.

Watching.

[bunnysbrainrot]

If You Change Your Mind

Relationship: Dean Winchester x Reader, friends(?) to lovers

Summary: For about half a year, you’ve hunted alongside the Winchester brothers to find a purpose in their ‘family business’. But, it seems that Dean’s harsh attitude is driving the two of you away from one another. What happens when that tension breaks, and his truth is revealed?

A/N: I plan on writing more for this, so expect more to come!

No content warnings, just some tension!

Though you had been working alongside Sam and Dean for a few months, practicing your skills as a hunter, your relationship with the older brother hadn’t been the easiest. Dean had a talent of being condescending even without words, which was discouraging to your hard work. Sure, you hadn’t been a hunter nearly as long as Dean, but hell, you were trying your damn hardest to improve. Sam, when you had brought it up, explained that Dean had a ‘hard time opening up’, which you knew better than anyone, at this point.

In the beginning of your working with the brothers, you had taken a liking to Dean, to put it lightly. His rugged demeanor and nonchalant attitude drew you in. He knew how to have a good time, had an amazing sense of humor, and could flirt with anyone as easy as breathing. All except for with you. Somehow, when Dean was with you, he couldn’t find the right way to approach… anything.

That is, until a hunt last week. It was a simple salt and burn, out in the countryside of Georgia. Dean had been distant, only speaking when necessary, but growing frustrated with you for futile reasons. Eventually, the two of you had a full blown argument: you pleaded with him to be more patient, that he was being too harsh on you as a new hunter. For Dean, he was rambling on how much of a ‘dumbass’ you were, getting too risky on hunts.

After that argument, you kept quiet. Ever since then, Dean barely looked at you, let alone said any words your way. Eventually you realized the toll it had taken on you, leaving you feeling out of place and drained. If it weren’t for Sam encouraging you to confront Dean, you considered planning on heading back home, if it could even be considered that anymore.

Taking a deep breath as you walked into the bunker, you spotted Dean seated at a long mahogany table, legs kicked up as he scrolled through his phone. While you were out you picked up food, burgers to be more specific, unintentionally Dean’s favorite. You had picked up orders for both brothers, since you didn’t go out on your own errands too often. Approaching the table, heart racing slightly wilder than before, you placed the paper bag near Dean, took out your own food, and began to walk off. A silent olive branch, the Dean Winchester way.

His voice rang throughout the room as you walked off, stopping you in your tracks.

“So, what? You’re just gonna ignore me, is that it?”

You turned to face him now, heart in your throat at the confrontation. Dean didn’t make this shit easy by any means. Confrontation was already difficult as is, and the eldest Winchester son challenged that further.

“I think you made it pretty clear you didn’t want to be talked to, Dean,” your voice was shaky despite the firm sentence you chose. Dean narrowed his eyes at you before taking a swig of his beer.

“Just been going through a lot lately, I guess,” his tone was terse, like there was a dam of emotions waiting to burst open. “Yeah, I’ve been a little distant, but you gotta stop thinking it’s all about you.”

Something in you snapped at that, glaring at Dean as you replied, “That’s bullshit and you know it. Everything changed after that shapeshifter hunt a few weeks ago. You’ve barely said a word to me. And that case out in Georgia only made it worse.”

Dean looked at you for a moment, studying your expression and sudden reaction to his remarks. He nodded as he listened, but you knew it wasn’t him taking it in. It was the specific Dean nod that meant he was ready to unleash how he felt. The pursed lips said it all.

“Fine. Maybe I have been ignoring you. There’s some truth there, but trust me. You have no idea why I’m doing this. You probably think it’s because I’m mad at you for screwing up, but it’s more than that.”

“Then, what is it?” You demanded, eyebrows raised as you awaited a better explanation.

“It’s for a reason.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Honestly? I don’t want to see you get ganked just because you’re a dumbass on a hunt.”

That remained to be his only response for a long pause. “I think you don’t care about your life as much as others do, so yeah… that pisses me off a bit.”

“Pisses you off so much that you treat me like I don’t exist,” you muttered, but he had already caught your retort. Dean’s jade green eyes darted to you. But, for a good while, he never gave a reply.

“If this is the way you show you’re concerned,” you began, “then maybe it would be good to learn some ‘people skills’.”

He sucked his teeth, looking away with a smug smile. Your eyebrows knitted together in frustration at him. Dean stood from his spot, walking over to you. You always forgot just how impressive he was until he stood toe to toe with you - his muscular physique and sharp features had always made you nervous, and the sensation they sent through you now was beyond confusing. It was hard to tell if your stomach was turning over itself or if your senses were distorted from this man staring you down.

“Oh I know people, don’t get me wrong,” he started, his voice lowered, “and believe me, I know more about you than you think.”

Your eyebrows arched in confusion at this, mulling over in your head at what the hell he could’ve meant.

“What…?”

“Oh, you were easy to understand. Practically see through. I knew what you wanted from the start,” Dean seemed to be speaking more clearly now, that hidden kernel of resentment now popping open.

“Listen, I’m just telling you this now, this whole ‘lovey dovey’ crap doesn’t mix well with hunters. You wanna bang? Better find someone on the road. Now for me… that’s when shit gets complicated.”

You could hardly wrap your head around what he was saying, noticing that he was far more than two steps ahead of you in this. Your throat was taught, straining to respond to him.

“Nothing is getting in the way, Dean. You’re seeing this all wrong.”

He shook his head, prodding his pointer finger into your collarbone. “You know that’s bullshit. And I’m telling you… that I know how complicated this would get if things went any further.”

It’s not like you had high hopes to begin with, but now it shattered completely. You looked to the ground, unable to form what you wanted to say.

“How do you know that?”

Dean replied, “Well, item number one… I’m pretty sure you just confirmed your feelings, but item number two, it just would.”

His tone had shifted to something slightly playful, but you didn’t break into a smile just yet. Your head spun as you thought about where this would lead to.

“But what if it doesn’t? What if it works out?”

The hunter looming over you stayed silent, eyes scanning the floor between you. His voice when he spoke next was hushed, almost a whisper.

“Because it would make losing you worse.”

For a split second, time seemed to stop.

“What do you mean?”

He looked at you once more, intently into your eyes as he explained, “In this line of work, getting close to someone is a damn luxury. That’s something I can’t have. Not in a million years, and definitely not with you.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but he cut you off.

“I’ve been a dick, I get it. And listen… I know you didn’t deserve that, and that’s completely on me. And it didn’t help that I didn’t tell you before.”

The only thing the two of you could hear was the faint buzzing of the lamp on the table.

“I don’t trust myself enough for it. If we’re too close, that makes us vulnerable, and the last thing any of us need is a new weak spot for those evil sons of bitches out there.”

Now with a heavier heart, you looked at Dean, unable to look anywhere but his eyes. A sad light had taken over his expression, more emotion than you had seen from him in weeks.

“I,” he said in a hushed tone, “listen…. I want this. You. If I knew that this could work, and everything would be okay, I would take that chance in a heartbeat.”

Something mixed inside of you, a strange muddled feeling of heartbreak and hope. Where did this leave them? What happens now?

“But,” your head snapped up at attention, “it’s not like I don’t wanna try. I’m just… shit, I’m scared to death of what could happen.”

A feeling in your gut tugged at his words, the weight of the truth in them. Dean let out a long breath, seeming to gain his composure. You noticed how his demeanor changed while he stood in front of you - from one of a fierce man, to one so vulnerable.

“Dean,” you started, hoping to give him some sort of comfort. You could only imagine how difficult this was for him, but there wasn’t the faintest idea of what to say to make this situation better.

“Well, I guess we know how we feel about each other. At least, a little.” There was a sense of hope in those words, like the optimism of your tone would change this discouraging outcome. “And, if you ever change your mind, about this whole ‘us’ thing not working, I think you’ll know where to find me.”

The words hung in the air.

“You would know it better than anyone, Dean.”

————

Chapter 2 is up! Thank you for reading!

[milaisreading]

🌱🩷: this is dramatic for absolutely no reason. Icb😭 pt2

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Reader is Isagi's older sister here. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"I hope you go to hell." (Y/n) sent Oliver a side-glare, as the boy chuckled and moved closer to her as they walked down the street.

"Come on, (Y/n). You know you missed our dates~"

"Oh yes... I completely missed all the times you would ignore me to flirt with a waitress." The older Isagi glared at the boy, moving further away from him.

"If you come near me, even a little, I will scream."

Oliver's smirk turned into a frown and he sighed, moving away a little as well. There was a short silence as the duo walked down the street, with Oliver sending her looks from time to time.

"Why... why did you want to meet me? Wasn't talking at the bowling alley a few days ago enough?" (Y/n) finally spoke up, earning nervous look from Oliver. Which was a first from him.

"No... I missed talking to ya, and the bowling alley conversation definitely wasn't enough. Especially with your brother glaring at me the whole time."

"I support him in that. To be honest, you deserved way worse."

Oliver sighed at her answer, already expecting no sympathy from her.

"I am sorry... I really am sorry for leaving you like that-"

"You broke up with me via a text message... on the day of our anniversary. No amount of 'I am sorry' will make me forgive or forget that."

The boy flinched at that as (Y/n) glared at him, then turned to look at the road ahead of them. The silence between them was awkward, but (Y/n) liked it. It gave her a chance to de-stress a little.

'Asshole!' She sent a glance towards Oliver, inspecting his face for a moment.

'But he is a handsome one... stupid! Why do you think like that over someone who clearly doesn't care for you...' She scolded herself.

Meanwhile, Oliver was lost in his own thoughts.

'Shit... I really messed it up back then... I wonder if I can make it better in anyway, show her that I really regret it.' Oliver sighed as they approached a restaurant.

"Let's go and have dinner here. It's on me-"

"I can pay for my own food." (Y/n) cut him off, but agreed to have dinner there.

"Of course you can. But, let me cover it tonight-"

"We aren't on a date, Aiku." She reminded him as they walked into the restaurant.

"I am sure you have a girl or two on who you can spend your money on instead." As much as it hurt her to say that, (Y/n) couldn't not say it. The scene at the karaoke bar still hurt her.

'I don't expect him to love or care for me after everything... but to think that I still didn't move on properly and he just...'

Oliver just sighed and kept quiet, knowing right now wasn't the best time to argue about it.

'I screwd up royally... just what could make her see I still care?'

After an awkward dinner and some dry conversations after, they were returning home. (Y/n) was glad that the night was coming to an end.

'I just want to take a bath and forget all of this had happened.'

"Hey... can we talk for a moment?" Oliver suddenly spoke up, grabbing (Y/n)'s wrist to stop her from walking.

"What now?" She asked in a bored manner, removing her first from his hold.

"I... I know you hate me, and I deserve it. I was an ass towards you at the end of the relationship, but..." Oliver stopped, trying to gather his own thoughts as (Y/n) just stared at him with a curious expression.

"But?"

"I... I really do like you. And as short as our relationship was, I really miss it."

(Y/n)'s eyes widened at that, and she just kept staring at Oliver. She couldn't bring herself to say anything at the moment. I mean... what could she say?

"Back then, I wasn't in a good headspace and was going nowhere with my own skills. I didn't want to burden you with all of it... you deserved better. Not a guy who can barely keep himself in line. I realized my mistake, and I wish we could return back to how it was."

(Y/n) felt her eyes sting a little as her hands twitched a little at his words.

"I will do whatever it takes, and wait for however long you want me to, just for us to be together again-"

A loud slap echoed through the street and Oliver flinched and grabbed his reddened cheek.

"(Y/n)..."

"And.... and you couldn't bring yourself to talk to me?" She let out a few sobs.

'She is crying?' Oliver blinked.

"I... you are the worst! Do you know how painful it was when I read that message?! All because... all because you couldn't man up to say how you felt... I..." She buried her face into her palms and Oliver tried to move closer to her.

"Hey... I'm sorry. I don't like seeing you cry-"

"Forget it. I don't want to talk to you anymore." (Y/n) moved away from Oliver and turned around to run away.

"I don't want to look or talk to you... whatever you wanted to say, save it! I just hope the next girl you date... you will love her enough to talk things out."

Before Oliver could say anything or grab her hand, (Y/n) ran off. Her face still buried in her palms.

Oliver felt something break in him as he watched her run off from him. It hurt more than when he broke up with her.

"But I love you-"

"Oliver Aiku! The hell did you do to my sister?!"

The boy shook his head and turned to look at the younger Isagi in surprise. The boy staring at the captain with resentment and rage.

"Isagi... what are you doing here?"

"The better question is what did you do to my sister? Why is she crying, you hag?!" Isagi's glare got more intense as he approached the dumbfounded and heartbroken boy.

'I am such an idiot... I hate him and love him at the same time. Why am I doing this to myself?' (Y/n) thought while walking down the street and trying to wipe her tears away.

'I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.' She thought back at the purple/green-eyed boy.

"And yet I still can't-"

She cut herself off as another body collided into hers, causing the stranger to fall down and her to stumble to the side.

"Ha?!" (Y/n) let out a surprised gasp and removed her hands from her face.

"Can't you watch where you are going, idiot?"

The girl's eyes widened in surprise as teal eyes stared back up at her.

'Itoshi... Sae?! He is still in Japan?!' (Y/n) thought in surprise while looking at the annoyed boy.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE OLIVER WOOD X SHY HUFFLEPUFF READER 

You were Neville's older sister and you were sorted into the Hufflepuff house while your brother Neville was sorted into the Gryffindor house. The both of you were quite similar in terms of personality, both of you were shy yet friendly with those around you. Everyone loved to be around you because of your kind nature and friendly personality, you were a bit of an introvert compared to your brother and your friends liked to tease you about it but everyone around you adored your shy nature, they found it rather bashful. You were academically driven and had the will and focus to get good grades, you didn't spend hours and hours to study like Hermione but you were naturally good at academics since you absorbed the concepts in one go and preferred a practical based learning compared to rote memorization. You even managed to get into Snape's good graces the other day when you were working on how to make the Polyjuice potion, you followed the instructions to the T and brewed the perfect mixture that even Snape couldn't find fault with your skill and accuracy and just gave you a slight nod of his head in a begrudging manner to show his appreciation for you, making you one of the rare cases where he showed his admiration to someone who wasn't from his own house 

Of course, you and your brother were secretly terrified and nervous of him deep down but you were able to pull through, however Neville needed a bit more help in Potions and was always on the receiving end of his taunts and sarcastic remarks which made you feel bad for Neville whenever you'd see his flustered face with the expression on his face looking like he was on the verge of tears. You'd spend most of your time helping out Neville with Potions and of course, defending him against Malfoy and his goons. You didn't really like confronting people but if it was for the sake of your brother, you had to suck it up and deal with it. By no means you had nerves of steel nor were you fearless, you'd be nervous when you tell them to stay away from your brother while they laughed at you and made jokes at you and your brother's expense, making you regret your decision of trying to be a hero in the first place. You felt your eyes water slightly with the comments the other Slytherins from your own year made and you hated how pathetic you felt, you were supposed to be defending your brother and be the older sibling he could look up to for protection and guidance, instead the guilt ate through your mind as you silently cursed yourself for being pathetic and weak and failing Neville as an older sister till someone decided that enough was enough and that's when you met...Oliver...

"Oi...leave her alone, yeah?" spoke a deep voice from nearby as you turned around and spotted a guy who looked like he was in your year, he seemed somewhat familiar to you and yet you couldn't put a finger to it, you surveyed the brown haired guy dressed in the Gryffindor Quidditch robes and clutched his broom as his veins protruded slightly and his jaw was clenched, looking agitated as his eyes narrowed at the bunch of Slytherins in front of him. "What's it to you Wood? Get lost'' hollered Marcus as he leered at him and Oliver just glared at him as he looked around, trying to see if there were any professors or other students around the area before pulling out his wand and hexing them. "Um...thanks..'' you mumbled and fidgeted with the hem of your robes and you shot him a polite smile. "No problem, I've been wanting to do that for a while now anyway...'' chuckled Oliver slightly as he held out his hand and introduced himself to you. "The name's Oliver, Oliver Wood...the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team'' he said proudly as he shook your hand

The second he came in contact with your hand and held your hand, he was surprised by how soft and gentle it was, a stark contrast compared to his rough and calloused ones as he found it slightly endearing and part of him wanted to keep holding your hand for a bit longer. "I'm Y/N Longbottom..'' you replied and his eyes widened slightly. "Longbottom...could you be related to Neville in some way?" he asked you as you nodded. "I'm his sister'' you answered as he looked at you like you were a fascinating rock that dropped from the moon. "Well, that's surprising, never knew Neville had a sister...'' he mused and he surveyed your features. Something about him just fueled that desire in him to protect you, was it the way your hair strands fell in that beautiful face of yours or was it the way he felt like he was already getting the feeling of getting lost in your eyes or was it the way how flustered and bashful you were in front of him which made your mannerisms endearing to watch

Ever since that incident, he just can't seem to let go of you. He follows you around like a puppy, a guard dog to be exact, warding off anyone who dared to mess with you and as he spent more time with you, he found himself growing more attached to you and your shy nature which he couldn't get enough of. He loved the way your cheeks would get tinged with a red blush at times and hide your face in a book and mumble something incoherent whenever you felt flustered about something which made him want to see more of those reactions from you. Of course, his friends eventually got wind of his feelings for you and started teasing him about it, Fred and George took immense pleasure in mercilessly poking fun at him for which he'd immediately tell them to shut it with a slight blush on his face but he won't really deny it

Even your own friends are convinced that he fancies you and they like to tease you about it yet you don't really see the obvious signs of him liking you. "I swear to Merlin Y/N you're absolutely dense, he FANCIES you, you dummy'' said one of your friends with an exasperated sigh as you looked at her reproachfully. "No he doesn't, we're just friends, he invites me to see his Quidditch games and we study in the library together and we hang out at Honeydukes at times...he's also nice enough to ask me about my day and he likes holding hands with me for some reason but we're just friends...nothing more than that'' you replied as your friends around you groaned and made noises of protest of your naivete and threw a cushion at you 

Oliver feels like he can't control his feelings for you anymore, his mind is filled with thoughts regarding you, deep down he's worried and has the paranoia that someone could take advantage of your kindness and naivete which he wouldn't allow to happen at any cost, which was why he needed to ensure that he was always around you at all times. He even ended up changing his schedule just so he could be in the same classes as you and he felt his heart race against his chest whenever he felt your hand brush against his. He feels like he has the strength to fight the world for you, you're his pillar of strength, he wants to be your man and take care of you and provide for you. The other day you received a low score for Potions which was something you didn't expect and you felt quite sad about it which hurt his heart, he wanted to see you happy and when he saw tears prickling at the corner of those lotus shaped eyes of yours, he felt like his heart was sinking. He gently caressed your cheek with his palm and held you in his arms close to him and stroked your hair telling you that you did your best and it was all right and how he would always be there for you and the two of you spent the rest of the night with each other as he bought you your favorite sweets from Honeydukes 

There are times when his mind starts to wander as he thinks about how soft and lovely it would be to kiss your lips while he holds you, how he could be your protector, how beautiful you'd look being married to him and having a family with him...yep, he's that far gone and detached from reality already, imagining and thinking about a happy married life with you. The thought of you being someone else and someone else daring to kiss those lips of yours made him infuriated, it just made his blood boil to no end. You were HIS, at times he felt like just wrapping you in silk like the precious doll that you were for him and locking you in a room so other people won't be able to get to you. He'd never blame you for anything, it's those lousy pests around you that are looking forward to taint your innocence. He doesn't stalk you, he just...follows you around to keep you safe, Hogwarts is still a pretty dangerous place after all and the last thing he needs is for you, his beloved to get hurt 

He doesn't classify himself as someone who has rage issues but when he heard some Ravenclaw dudes talking about you inappropriately his mind went blank with fury and broke a lot of their bones and they had to spend a few months in the Hospital Wing. His reputation would also come into play here, why would someone ever suspect golden boy Oliver Wood, the star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team beating up and hexing people for no reason? It sounded unlikely didn't it? He isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty to ensure your happiness and safety, even if he has to get blood on his hands to make you be with him so be it. You're destined to be with him and he'd eliminate and get rid of anything and everything that would stand against his dream of the two of you being happily married to each other...

[verxsyon]

·:*¨༺ ❝ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖 (𝐈𝐈) ❞

with your auto workshop at risk of closing down, your best friend offers to introduce you to people who are definitely in need of your high quality services: underground street racers of blue lock, whose obsessions are winning the races. however, your arrival at the track makes them think otherwise.

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. yukimiya kenyu, otoya eita, karasu tabito, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, oliver aiku, alexis ness, & michael kaiser x gn!reader

✧ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭. headcanon (written) ; 1.1k

✧ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. e2l au, f2l au, street racer au ; fluff

✧ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. allusions to violence (shidou & rin)

✧ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚. here’s the second part containing characters who are more egoistic than the last batch… nah, that’s debatable lol. did i actually spend the entire day working on this? yes, i was a roll; love it here. anyways, my other fave, yukki, is here! i didn’t mention it last time: this au was originally written for another fandom years ago, moved to genshin but that didn’t happen, and then here! egoistic soccer boys as street racers? yes, please.

[ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖 (𝐈) ]

𝐲𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐮. the model. he’s a member of the neo egoists and is ranked fifth of the top six racers in blue lock. his charm is the focal point of his character, driving the audience nuts. curious by nature, he wonders what important qualities you possess other than being “kira ryosuke’s date”. he also wonders how you managed to get the likes of barou, who treats everyone like trash, and nagi, who thinks of only going home, wrapped around your finger. seeing you teach nagi about car anatomy gives him the chance to introduce himself. he thinks there’s something special about you, which he intends to find out, but a teammate of his believes so otherwise.

𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐚. the ninja. he’s a member of the neo egoists and is ranked fourth of the top six racers in blue lock. he claims to be not like his fellow racers and teammates and prefers to operate in the shadows. unlike them, he doesn’t see you as an angel who was sent by god in the form of a mechanic to fix their cars. he fails to see why they’re smitten by you, therefore not interested in interacting with you at all. that turns out to be a lie when yukki gives you a tour of the turf of the neo egoists. it’ll be rude not to make you feel welcome, so he wants to give you a chance. a crow-themed racer laughs at him for fooling himself that he doesn’t find you attractive one bit.

𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐨. the assassin. he’s a member of the neo egoists and is ranked third of the top six racers in blue lock. all about good vibes and having a good time, he doesn’t want his team to act “mediocre” around you. most newcomers are notorious for never setting foot in this place again. he’s so relieved to hear that you came at your own volition thanks to ryosuke’s persuasion, and everyone you’ve met is nice to you… sans certain others, so he doesn’t need to worry about making an impromptu spiel of why blue lock, aka his team dare you add, is great. if you think he’s too friendly for your taste, let’s see if the next guy who’s stalking you right now takes the top of your list.

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨���� 𝐫𝐲𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐢. the joker. he’s ranked second of the top six racers in blue lock. unrestrained both in words and action, he goes about his day and does everything as he pleases. judging by how karasu and the rest of the neo egoists are quick to stand either by or in front of you, he’s bad news. the altercation got team z’s attention, especially kunigami who he has massive beef with. you being “ryosuke’s date” doesn’t phase him, nor your best friend going for his head for being near you. ever since the older itoshi brother joined forces with u20 and chose him to be at this side, he’s been “behaving”. the younger itoshi brother isn’t amused, as if he didn’t break his nose last race .

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧. the puppeteer. he’s the unofficial leader of the neo egoists and is ranked first of the top six racers in blue lock. the youngest of the itoshi brothers, has a score to settle with his older brother, sae, who’s participating in the upcoming race as a member of u20 along with his personal choice shidou. it’s already bad enough for racers to use physical violence to settle arguments, but it’s even worse for him to be involved in another fight with shidou, especially before a race that determines his fate and prove to sae that he’s the best of the best. he doesn’t spare a glance at you or ask if you’re alright, as sae walks into the neo egoists’ garage to check out the commotion.

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐞. the prodigy. he’s one of the new generation world 11, the best eleven racers in the streets and a member of royale. as he’ll be the only one representing his team in the upcoming race, he joined forces with u20 since they’re short by two members and personally chose shidou to fill in the other spot. even if it’s not obvious at face value, everyone can tell there’s bad blood between the brothers by the intense atmosphere created from their staring contest. sighing, he breaks contact first to search where you are, then looks at rin to scoff at his lack of concern for you when shidou approaches you. in the distance, claps are heard from a man with “u20” on his jacket.

𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐮. the player. he’s the captain of u20, the name of the team you’ve heard from literally everyone who won’t shut up about them for the past several hours. he’s highly respected among his team for his patience; dealing with sae and shidou, the most difficult people to work with on earth, is like a drive around the neighborhood. he intrudes with a reminder that the streets don’t approve of violence and that they’re going to race soon. in addition, a blue lock racer by the name of kira ryosuke has a special guest and they should be on their best behavior. yet he’s a hypocrite, flirting with you in front of his current date and promising you an autograph when he wins.

𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. the magician. he’s the mechanic of bastard münchen. he understands your position as the center of attention, claiming to be just like you — having a partner for an adrenaline junkie and being the “fixer” to clean up your mess. he invites you to see his partner’s car at the special garage as he’s on his way their to fix its engine, to which you happily accept as there’s finally someone with the same job who you can geek about car anatomy and share techniques. the way he repairs the engine is like clockwork, fluid and in tempo. he really is on a different level. you hear a chuckle behind you, asking if you’re fascinated by his work.

𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫. the thorn. he’s one of the new generation world 11, the best eleven racers in the streets and one of the major forces of bastard münchen. he puts in so much faith and trust in his partner, ness, the “fixer” of his messes. also known as “blue rose” in his turf, he’s shrouded in mystery and seems like the type who can turn the impossible to infinite possibilities. but in reality, he’s a pain in the ass. within minutes of your encounter, he keeps bragging about his abilities and declaring that his victory will lead to the disbandment of blue lock, so they won’t get in his way of his career. the race’s up, and you’re hoping that a blue lock racer wins to shut his mouth.

✧ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬. if your url is in bold, that means i can’t tag you!

@2018-01-20 ; @astranne ; @kamiiyaka ; @keqism ; @lilikags​ ; @thetruepair​ ; @wanderersbell ; @venexus​

[manicpixiefelix]

Me projecting but neurodivergent!L/N Siblings who need to decompress after every party or dinner their parents host at the family home. Retreating to the refuge of their bedrooms where they shrug off the uncomfortable clothes, scrub at their faces and hair, flop down on the bed or floor. Listen to music while gazing up at the ceiling, tapped out after forced smiles and pleasantries.

oh my GOD this ended up being 1.8k of pure oliver/felix/reader fluff ft. oliver & reader knowing each other so well they can communicate silently, reader becoming nonverbal after events, and the l/n siblings inviting felix to chill and relax with them in these moments after events because they know he understands and feels a similar kind of pressure to what they go through. also yeah big same on the projecting neurodivergent!L/N Siblings, esp. the reader, because Me Too. this got out of hand lol maybe i should have just published it as a full fic, but i love this au v much. i know including Fi probably wasn't what you expected but........ i had to sorry lol.

but also since this is technically an ask im gonna include a song for the vibe, which is Talk Me Down by Troye Sivan because Blue Neighbourhood will always make me emotional.

The first time Felix ever sees the two of you truly unmask is after one of the smaller gatherings his parents held early that first Summer. He's not quite sure when the shift occurred, but he very quickly became aware of it. Oliver by your side, and usually at least comfortable offering quiet additions to conversations for himself, started to simply murmur his thoughts to you, before finally becoming nonverbal. Somehow you were still able to interpret from the things he didn't say, but you were clearly growing weary too. Oliver gives thin lipped smiles, but at least he's given the grace to appear haughty by your shoulder; your smile never drops, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

For a brief moment that the pair of you have to yourselves, Felix watches a whole conversation pass between you and Oliver from merely a look that you share. You link your pinky with Oliver's, and he perches his chin on your shoulder; a brief moment of relaxation and serenity as you both let your eyes close, tension relaxing for a beat at you press your forehead to his. Felix has the strangest sensation, like he can hear the way you two share an I love you without either saying a single word.

You say good night to all the gathered guests, and Felix family, on behalf of yourself and your brother not too long after Felix witnesses the exchange. You get handshakes and kisses on the cheek, and Oliver makes sure, even if he remains quiet, to give winning smiles and kiss the older, sophisticated ladies on the hand like a true gentleman. Felix tries to ask if you're both alright when you get to him, last of all, and though you both smile, it's not quite believable. At least to him. But he lets you leave.

He makes his own exit soon after. Oliver's room is the closest to his, so it makes the most sense to go there first. At least he'd have some sort of excuse. He goes through his own room first, suit jacket haphazardly tossed on the bed and tie along with it, already unbuttoning several of his buttons to make himself more comfortable. Crossing the bathroom he strides confidently to Oliver's door and knocks.

No answer.

"Ollie, it's me," he says gently, "are you okay, you just seemed a bit -" the door opens very slightly and it's you peering back at him. You're not smiling. You're not... anything. You blink at him. Felix takes a moment to reassess the situation, then you open the door wider and you step back into the room, no longer watching him. Felix feels like he's intruding the minute he realises both you and Oliver have stripped down to your underwear; he's stumbling through apologies, suddenly bashful under Oliver's watchful gaze where he's splayed out on the bed, a tired kind of curiosity in his eyes. But neither of you seem particularly bashful yourselves, nor are you running to cover yourselves.

Felix watches you stretch yourself out on the bed beside your brother, looking up at the ceiling as you blindly reach for a single earphone you know will be waiting where you'd obviously left it on the pillow. He settles himself, tries to remind himself that you'd both let him in on this moment. You close your eyes.

"Is everything okay?" This time the concern is genuine. In this moment, Felix is surprised when Oliver appears to take the lead for you both. For just a moment, he reaches across himself to gently pet your hair.

"What is to give light must endure burning," he says faintly, before turning to Felix with that same, faint but tired smile, "thought you'd know what it's like to be the sun, Felix." And, yes, of course Felix knows what he means... except in situations where comparisons are drawn with the two of you.

Before he can ponder too much, however, you shift on the bed, almost imperceptibly, but Oliver purses his lips.

"I'm not pretentious," he says out loud, and Felix realises it's more for his benefit than yours; he often marvels at the strange, silent way the two of you can so clearly communicate. It happens again; you barely crack your eye open, levelling an indecipherable look at your brother as your lips quirk into the faintest smile. In response, Oliver rolls his eyes and tells you to shut up, though his tone is fond.

Then, after another moment, your gaze lands on Felix. Suddenly he feels it all, the exhaustion, the ache of keeping up appearances, the restrictiveness of the formalwear he's been coaxed into. Everything's too much, and the two of you, window open with a faint breeze, wearing next to nothing and allowing yourselves to just be after the pressure of performing, it sounds fucking heavenly.

"How are you going, Felix?" Oliver asks, following your gaze, almost like he can read Felix's mind. Maybe he can. Maybe that's how the two of you can operate so seamlessly, so unspokenly between each other. Both of you are looking at him now. He feels incredibly overdressed. He laughs awkwardly, but suddenly can't seem to look at either of you. The words get stuck in throat for a moment.

'Thought you'd know what it's like to be the sun, Felix' is what Oliver had said; not feel like the sun. To be the sun. Because you both know how the rest of Felix's life orbits around him, except for the two of you. You've so warped his reality, his own orbit, he's had no choice; Oliver is the moon to your sun, but what does that make him?

Binary stars; Felix is still the sun in his own life, but he could never match your gravity once he's come across you, nor could he escape it.

"Kind of like I'm burning, I guess."

As soon as he says it, he knows it was the right answer. Both you and Oliver shuffle away from each other, making distinct room between you on the bed, an unspoken invitation.

This is one of the big turning points in the relationship, Felix realises as he's undressing, trying to keep his heartbeat under control. He can't believe he's here, that this is really happening; this is nowhere near what he'd expected when he went knocking on Ollie's door.

"What are you listening to?" He asks awkwardly as he makes his way onto the bed from over the foot of it. You, eyes once more closed, pulled the earphones from the iPod by your side. Once you pressed play once more, Felix hears Amy Winehouse croon from the little speakers. He flops on his back between you both and stares up at the ceiling. It's strange, he almost feels like he's waiting for something to happen, though it does feel much freer with the breeze and only in his boxers.

After a beat, you let out a low, contented hum, shuffling closer to Felix, enough that you were able to press your cheek to his shoulder.

"Yeah," Oliver agrees quietly to whatever he'd gleaned from your movement and noises, "'s a lot to be out there in the world sometimes," to which Felix makes a faint noise of agreement. He feels your fingers wrap carefully around his arm, and your face turns to press firmer against his shoulder. Your lips are against his skin when you hum again, and he feels like his whole body lights up with the contact. Oliver, who's head is on the pillow beside Felix, turns to look at him; he's not smiling, but there's fondness in his gaze, unfiltered, so unused to how he usually looks at Felix, "you're always welcome here if you need time like this. We won't tell if you won't."

You nod against Felix's shoulder, Felix feels like he's about to pass out with how hard his heart is beating.

Because he knows you both, has seen you operate together in the world for the better part of a year in person, and years before in the tabloids before that. This exhaustion, this clear detox from an uncomfortable foray into society, is not something the rest of the world is ever allowed to see.

And you're inviting him into it.

Felix falls asleep there, between the two of you, on top of the duvet. It's the best sleep he's had in a very long time.

The next time it happens, he's surprised that you're both already so willing to include him in the routine. Saying goodbye to everyone else at the event, you simply give him a tired smile, and Oliver actually speaks to him directly, rather than through you the way he had been for the past hour, to pointedly wish him good night.

Five minutes later, Felix lets himself into Oliver's room, and finds the two of you, already down to your underwear, sitting cross-legged on the bed as you are gently removing Oliver's concealer and eyeliner with a makeup wipe. You've forgone earphones entirely and there's the tinny sound of some pop-punk band this time. You smile at Felix broadly, giving a little wave.

"I quite like this," Oliver says to you, though loud enough for Felix to hear. You nod in agreement. He has the distinct impression that you're both talking about him joining these moments of yours.

Sometimes things change, like your or Oliver will be sitting up with a cigarette or a book, and have the other's head in your lap, or one of you will be on the floor by the bed, and Felix learns not to worry, that you needed to simply not be touched in that moment. Sometimes that lasts all night, and Felix worries about either of you sleeping on the floor, but you both assure him it's normal.

Felix learns that Oliver likes playing with Felix's hair just as much as he liked getting his hair played with. He learns to identify whose taste in music is whose each time judging by the album chosen. He also learns how clingy you get, and how responsive you are to soothing touches; those are his favourite nights, with Oliver comfortable and content by his side, looking up at the ceiling and enjoying the music, while you're pressed up against Felix's side, head on his chest to listen to the heartbeat he keeps much steadier than he'd been able to that first night. His arm is around you and you have your own slung over him, legs tangled up with his, all but melting into him as he runs his fingers up and down your spine in a soothing, repetitive rhythm. You're practically purring.

These nights are quiet, he doesn't remember the last time any of the three of you spoke after Oliver's quiet aside on that second night. He gets used to the serenity, the lack of expectations, and comes to understand and appreciate just how badly you both need these moments. He doesn't think he needs them in quite the same way, but his head starts to spin when he realises that you both have started needing him there in these moments.

[capricornsims]

Some headcanons featuring screenshots from my Sims 3 Strangetown game.

PT9 and Jenny met in 1985. Based on the Sims 2 memories, she found him drowning in the pool since he dived head-first into the shallow end. While everyone was running away in fear - she rescued him and fell in love at first sight. PT9 vowed loyalty to his savior and gifted her with knowledge about Sixam.

Jenny and Lyla were roommates until she married Buzz Grunt. She doesn't get Jenny's attraction to PT9 but she was supportive. Meanwhile, Jenny tried her hardest to break up Lyla and Buzz because she deserved so much better!

The Curious Brothers were forced to cut contact with Jenny since she 'betrayed' their father by marrying PT9 ( valid honestly - thinking about it makes my head hurt )

Pascal having Tycho brought the family back together.

5. Glarn was an emotionally absent father who paid no attention to his kids. Pascal was Glarn's favorite which was why he went to private school. He was also responsible for looking after his younger brothers when they moved out.

6. Pascal is " Well achually" incarnate. He loves to talk about theories and science. Aliens and Astro physics are his hyper fixation

7. Vidcund and Lazlo spend their time joking about how Pascal takes himself way too seriously. They were best friends throughout school and Vidcund was the one who helped Lazlo get his degree.

8. Lazlo is a genius, he passed school with no effort because he was just that smart. Glarn didn't see his genius because he was too busy scolding him for being messy.

9. Lazlo takes Vidcund out to hang out with his friends and works overtime trying to set him up on dates so he can get over Circe.

10. The Curious Brothers weren't that close - and often butted heads but since Tycho was born they are closer than ever. ( UNTIL VIDUND SOLD TYCHO)

11. I know Vidcund was mind-controlled, but imagine if he wasn't. He's in serious debt and these blue aliens offered him like a billion dollars if he sold his nephew. The Dudes in Black wanted to run experiments on him idk.

12. Pascal never really recovered after his kid was stolen and was overly protective of Tycho. Tycho grew up anxious because of the overarching threat of being kidnapped again.

13. Olive Specter is not a serial killer (allegedly) - she just has really bad luck, but she kept up the bit so people would leave her alone! She is really superstitious because she's connected to the supernatural. She makes good luck charms and ensures that Ophelia is really cautious and wears all her charms.

14. Ophelia has a serious anxiety disorder - partially because Olive raised her to be scared of everything for her own safety. She makes sure Johnny and Ripp don't go under ladders, cross poles, or step on cracks. She gets really stressed out when Ripp makes dark jokes.

15. Olive was a good mom until she was wrongly accused of being unstable which led to her baby being taken away. She tried to get him back but there were too many roadblocks and Nervous was already given away.

16. She loves the Grim Reaper and longs for the day she can see him again. Her partygoer job entails her going to funeral memorials.

17. Nervous met Annie Howell in foster care and they are really good friends to this day. He missed her because she was adopted by her older brother and left alone in the orphanage. 18. Nervous was a constant runaway and ended up in the Beaker's house as a teenager with the promise that he wouldn't have to go back to a group home. Unfortunate :(

19. I like how most people agree on how rude and not nice Nervous actually is. He's standoffish for good reason and gives Vidcund a lot of snark for being into Circe. He's chill with Lazlo though.

20. Nervous is the fun dad, and lets Tycho do whatever they want. Meanwhile, Pascal is pretty strict about his schooling ( which doesn't matter because Tycho has alien intelligence) and being safe. 21. Tycho grows up to follow in Pascal's astrophysics footsteps, mostly to build a ship and hunt down his Pollinator dad.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

BUTTERFLIES

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: George gets flashbacks of your relationship as he watches you walk down the aisle to marry him Warnings: mention of tears, i think that's it

George's eyes met yours as he stood at the end of the aisle, waiting there for you to reach him as you walked to the music

the butterflies made their appearance in his stomach as he stared at you with pure love and longing

he had waited years for this, and it was finally happening

George couldn't help but remember all the times the butterflies invaded him stomach throughout knowing you before this moment

-

"Fred! George! hurry up, we're late!" Molly yelled at the twins

"we're right behind you mum, and the train doesn't leave for another 3 minutes!" Fred spoke in defense, trailing after Molly.

Molly rushed all of her kids through the wall of the train station.

Fred and George ran through it for the first time with their trolleys, which held their luggage for their first year at Hogwarts

George went through the wall and came out on the other side, slightly losing control of his trolley and bumping into somebody, making them fall

George panicked as he heard them wince in pain

he let go of his trolley and looked down at you on the ground

"I'm really sorry" he apologised, holding his hand out to help you

"it's fine" you huffed, taking the boys hand

"I'm Y/n" you introduced yourself

George felt a flutter inside his heart when you smiled at him sweetly

"George, are you alright?" he asked after telling you his name

"I'll be just fine"

-

"we're so going to make the team, Georgie" Fred smiled as a large group of Gryffindors huddled up for tryouts for Quidditch

"we'll be the best beaters on the team" Fred smirked

Oliver wood started talking about the rules and taking down what positions people wanted to play

"Y/L/N, what are you trying out for?" Wood called, seeing you in amongst the people

"Chaser" you replied

George turned around to see you with the newest broomstick in your hands, standing with Angelina Johnson

"you play quidditch?" George questioned as you caught his stare

"yeah, i do. is that a problem?" you frowned, teasing him

"n- no" he stuttered, feeling the nervous butterflies rise up in his stomach as you glared at him

"i'm just surprised, you didn't strike me as a quidditch type of girl" he went on

"I bet I'm better than you" you laughed, looking him up and down

George only blinked nervously

-

Fred and George rushed through hogsmeade to finally get to the store they've heard all about from their brothers

the twins excitedly walked through the door of Zonko's to look at all the things they dream they could have

George explored the shop, going in a completely different direction from his older twin to find you looking hiccough sweets

"never thought i'd see you in here" George spoke up with a smile

you turned to him and rolled your eyes with a grin

"what can I say, i like the common sweet prank" you grabbed a few and walked closer to him

"although i know you and Fred are the kings of pranks here so, any suggestions on what's good? I need teach a douchebag a lesson for burning my homework" you smirked

George raised his eyebrows "Tristen?" he asked

you nodded your head in reply

"I've always been interesting in tricking somebody but never really acted upon it, this just gives me a reason" you shrugged mischievously

George's 13 year old heart pumped faster in his chest as the butterflies swarmed in his stomach

you couldn't've gotten any better

"well...you could always try some dungbombs, they always do the trick or..."

he went on to have a ramble for about 10 minutes that day, telling you the best way to get Tristen back, and even offered to do it with you

-

George sat on the couch, head in his hands as he thought about Ginny, worrying about her

you had walked in after a long study session for potions when you found him in the common room, looking stressed

"you ok there, George?" you wondered, not knowing what to do

"I'm fine, don't worry" he sighed

Fred had gone to bed, also worrying while George decided to stay up a bit longer

you had heard about what happened to his sister, so you knew he wasn't entirely 'fine'

so you stayed with him, you slowly walked up to the couch and sat next to him

"I'm really sorry about your sister...it'll be ok though, I'm sure she can handle whatever's happening" you started, hoping it would help, even it was a lie. you didn't know it would be ok

George sat frozen, if it were anyone else next to him, he probably wouldn't yelled at them, saying that they had no idea. but he knew you were trying to help

"she'll be ok, George" you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a sad smile even though he wasn't looking at you

"she's lucky to have a brother like you...caring as much as you are" you sighed

that made George finally look up at you

you moved your hand from his shoulder to around his torso, giving him a comforting hug

the way your hands wrapped around him made the butterflies make another appearance, George had been used to them by now, he welcomed them in with a smile as he hugged you back

-

George had grown closer to you, becoming good- if not best friends

you would help with his school work and with his and Fred's pranks

the one problem was that you had a boyfriend that year, but not for long

you came rushing through the common room, tears in your eyes as you ran for the dorms

"hey, Y/n, what's wrong!?" George came to your aid as soon as he saw you

he got up from the couch and pulled you into his arms before you got to the stairs

you cried in his arms "he cheated on me" you murmured

your words made George's blood boil, He never liked that guy, and deep down he knew he would do something to hurt you

he brought you over to the couch and made you tell him what fully happened

"why do the nice ones always turn out to be the assholes?" you wept

"well if they're assholes then they were never the good ones, the good ones are the good ones and the assholes are the assholes" George shrugged, he didn't know what to say

he had never been in a relationship before, mostly because of the way you had always made him feel

"well why can't they all be like you? you're good, great" you sobbed

George cleared his throat, caught off guard by your statement

he let the butterflies fill his stomach as you cried into his chest, telling him how he would be a good boyfriend

-

George stood beside you as the professor told the class about the potion

you, along with many other girls took a step closer, entranced by the smell of the potion.

Amortentia.

George laughed at you when you smiled lazily, your eyes almost almost having pink hearts in them as you breathed the scnet in

what George hadn't expected was to get the very strong scent of you as he finally breathed through his nose

George took a step beck and cleared his throat, looking at you in the corner of his eye as he let the smell fill his nose

the butterflies rose to his stomach and made him feel faint, feeling overwhelmed

you had noticed his faint figure beside you and leaned closer to him

"you alright Georgie?" you whispered

"I'll be just fine, Love"

-

George wandered the halls, trying to find you, to ask you to the Yule Ball, after smelling you in the Amortentia last week, he realised that he needs to ask you out

the feeling he gets when he's around you is too good to lose

he heard your voice behind him and turned around

"george! there you are!" you beamed

"hey! I've been looking for you" he asked, meeting you in the middle of the hallway

"me too, I need to ask you something" you said

"oh, you go first" George spoke quickly, really wanting to ask you, or he'll start to overthink and chicken out

"do you have something to tell me too?" she wondered

"yeah but you go first" George smiled

"well I was just thinking...Justin Thornhill asked me to the ball at breakfast this morning, I don't know why I told you that- right, um. well I said no, obviously. b- because I want to go with you. do you want to go to the ball with me?" you rambled, getting to the question that has been on your tongue for a week

George's eyes went wide and the butterflies piled into his stomach as soon as the question came from your mouth.

you had said what he'd been dying to say

George's heart pumped inside his chest rapidly, he almost thought you could hear it

"yes, t- that's what I was going to ask you!" George grinned happily

it was safe to say the butterflies never left after that, every time he'd see you after that, they would pop in and say hello

the whole night of the ball they stayed there

-

George fiddled with his fingers as he told you his plan on leaving with Fred early to start the shop

you had been dating since the day after the yule ball and he was nervous you wouldn't support it, just like his mum

"that's..great! I'm really proud of you, I know you'll do great" you said, kissing his cheek

"really?" he raised his eyebrows

"of course...the shop will be amazing, I just know it" you nodded, full heartedly supporting him

you had no idea how much that meant for him to hear, that you thought he'd do good, that you supported him

it made the butterflies flutter in his stomach, knowing that you approved of what he's doing

-

George felt the tears coming when you finally reached him, taking his hand and smiling up at him, happy that you would be marrying him

and all these years, he still gets butterflies when you look at him

--------------------------------------------