#maybe i just put too much expectations on myself on how good i should be at these things

[faketrex]

How about "2) the last room at a drive-in motel in the small hours of the morning" for firstprince? 👀

Thank you, Sara! 💝 For prompt number 2, "the last room at a drive-in motel in the small hours of the morning."

RWRB, firstprince, alternate universe, a little bit of faux noir. Spies? Maybe! It's an... interlude. Plot creep was real with this one.

...

Just because the banging on the door–the banging that wakes him from the first sleep he's gotten in more than twenty-four hours–isn't a surprise, that doesn't mean that Alex fucking enjoys it.

On the nightstand, the red numbers on the radio alarm clock show 03:35 AM. Hard pass. Alex mashes one ear into his pillow; who knows, maybe he'll get lucky and it'll reduce the noise by half.

The banging gets louder. He'd expected that.

"Open the bloody door, Lexington, I know you're in there."

Whoever’s in the room on the other side of Alex's headboard starts pounding on the wall, too, in an aggressive rhythm that Alex recognizes: it's the sound of a business traveler who's not going to put up with any shit. "Be quiet, it's three in the morning!"

"Fine," Alex yells back as he rolls to his feet. He bangs one fist against the wall twice for good measure. Might as well join in on the fun. "I'm up, I'm up. Everyone hold your fucking horses."

Contrary to every one of his instincts, there's no need to check the peephole–or put on shoes, or even a shirt–before unlatching the door and swinging it open.

Alex has, in fact, been expecting this visit.

"You know, sweetheart, some of us like to live our lives using a little thing called subtlety. Fly under the radar, so to speak." He looks Henry up and down, eyes skimming over the crisp suit, the slicked-back hair, the shoes that had probably cost more than half the furniture in this motel room. "Does that concept ring any bells in your pretty little head?"

"Your charm is matched only by your shameless hypocrisy, as usual."

"Yeah? Should I even ask what kind of bogus James Bond car you've got parked outside?"

"Ah, but that would ruin the surprise," Henry demurs, deadpan.

Alex leans to the right and up onto his toes, but the parking lot is dim and misty–and he can't make much out beyond Henry's broad shoulders, anyway. They're a little distracting, and not just because of the raindrops spattered across his expensive suit. All of Henry is a little distracting. "Give me a hint?"

"Gather your things and come see for yourself."

"Well, maybe I'd rather just go back to bed, baby. It's always a treat to see you, but–"

"Shut up, shut up, I'm calling the front desk!"

In the pause following the threat, Henry reaches out and trails the tips of his fingers up Alex's bare clavicle. "Your neighbor would seem to agree with my plan."

"My neighbor hasn't got a leg to stand on after watching Wheel of Fortune so loudly, I could spell all the words myself. For five fucking hours. And–" The memory of Henry's touch on Alex's skin is staggering. "And you're late, Henry."

"Alex," Henry whispers, hushed, softly enough it's more breath than sound. "Love. There's coffee in the car."

Lucky for Henry, Alex's bag is already packed.

[aftermathing]

.

[monstermp3]

🍀

[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ PANIC ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Oscar doesn’t mean to come off as a panicking first time father, but his little one is his whole world! How will that anxiety crawl up when and boil over when it’s her first Grand Prix?

PAIRING ౨ৎ Dad!Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ oscar is just a nervous first time dad 😞

A/N ౨ৎ OSCAR REQUEST 🗣️, Sadie loves to terrorize Oscar, and I love that. A little menace she is.

OSCAR NEVER EXPECTED to be a father this young. He would have at least thought that he’d have a Championship, turn 25, or even get married before he had a child. But life had its own plans.

From the moment he first held her, everything else faded into the background. Racing, which had been the center of his universe, now revolved around his daughter. She was so small, so delicate, and every little noise she made sent his heart racing.

Oscar was known for being calm. Level headed. Realistic. Yet, when it came to his little girl, things changed. Drastically.

Everything was a threat. It started with the small things: a tiny cough, her first stumbles and falls when she first attempted walking, the way she’d put everything she found into her mouth. He tried to stay calm, telling himself that every parent worried, but it never took much for that anxiety to creep up on him. A trip to the playground turned into a mental obstacle course—every slide was too high, every swing too fast, and the idea of her falling down onto the wood chips make his skin crawl.

And now, it was the moment many fathers in Formula One would love: to see their children watch them race. But Oscar? He was a wreck.

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

The night was quiet in Australia, the moonlight shining through the blinds of his parents home you both decided to stay in before the start of the Grand Prix around the corner with the chirping crickets forming their own harmony outside. With Sadie finally asleep in Oscar’s arms, a small smile tugged at your lips before you spoke.

“You know… I’ve been thinking.”

Oscar glanced over softly, his eyes warm with affection. “You? Thinking? I’m bracing myself here.”

“Haha. Funny.” You took a deep breath, carefully choosing your words. “I was thinking… maybe we should take Sadie to the Australian GP. I know it’s her first one, but it could be a special experience for her. And for us. I mean, it’s your home race. Our home race.”

Oscar's fingers lightly brushed against Sadie's soft, downy hair as he shifted her gently in his arms. The quiet, tender moment was interrupted by your suggestion, and his brow furrowed slightly in concern.

“..What?” He questioned, his Aussie accent slipping through. The thought of having his little girl at the track, in the midst of the roaring engines and flashing cameras, made him feel uneasy. It wasn’t the fact it was a race that concerned him but rather how unpredictable it is.

“Let’s take Sadie to the Grand Prix this weekend.” You repeated.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low. “It’s not exactly a calm environment. It’s loud, chaotic…”

You gently placed a hand on his arm, "I know, Oscar. But I think it would be good for her to see what you do, even if she’s too young to fully understand. It could be a special memory for us, and your Mum insists she comes with us for extra help."

Oscar’s grip tightened slightly on Sadie as he looked down at her peaceful face, her tiny hand curled around his thumb. “What if she gets scared? The noise alone could be overwhelming for her,” He murmured.

You leaned in closer, resting your head against his shoulder. “We’ll be right there with her. And she’ll have ear protection, and we’ll make sure she’s comfortable. Besides, she’ll be surrounded by people who love her, including your parents and sisters. It’ll be okay.”

Oscar didn’t seem convinced judging by his silence and expression on his face.

“Oscar, Sadie is a calm baby. Unusually calm.” You stated earning a small amused scoff, “Like how your Mum described you as a baby and kid kind of calm… without waking up screaming to be freed from the crib. She will be okay.”

Oscar sighed, feeling the weight of your words. You were right; Sadie was an unusually calm baby, a trait she no doubt inherited from him. But that didn’t stop the what-ifs from swirling around in his mind.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice firmer now. “We’ll do it. We’ll take her to the Grand Prix.”

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

Stepping into the Australian sun, the warmth envelops you like a blanket, its golden rays reflecting off the bustling excitement of the Australian Grand Prix.

“Sweetheart, do you have her-“

“Yes Oscar, I have her ear protection, I have her spare clothes just in case, and the baby bag is hanging on her stroller.” You reply with a amused smile at his questioning as we entered the paddock.

Oscar gave a relieved nod, looking over at Sadie in his arms who was taking in her new surroundings. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as you approached the McLaren garage.

The garage was abuzz with activity. Team members hurriedly prepared the cars, the unmistakable scent of gasoline and tire rubber filled the air, and mechanics shouted over the din of the crowd. Oscar's teammates and crew were working efficiently, their focus entirely on the task at hand.

As you reached the entrance to the McLaren garage, Oscar’s anxiety flared up again. “Do you think she’ll be okay in all this noise?” he asked, casting a worried glance at Sadie while he set her down, who seemed completely unfazed finding her balance.

“She’ll be fine, Oscar,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “Look at her. She’s curious, not scared. Besides, she’s got her daddy to protect her.”

Oscar smiled faintly at that, but the knots in his stomach refused to loosen. He glanced back at Sadie, who had wandered over to a stack of tires and was trying to peer around them. Every little movement she made seemed like a potential hazard in Oscar’s mind—what if she stumbled and hit her head? What if she got too close to something dangerous?

He quickly crossed the short distance to her, crouching down and gently steering her back toward the stroller. “Stay close, okay?” he said softly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

Sadie looked up at him with a small smile, her tiny hand gripping his finger as she babbled something incoherent. Oscar’s heart melted a little, but the tension remained.

You watched him, your heart aching for the way he was trying so hard to keep it together. “Oscar, she’s safe. I promise you-”

As if on cue, Sadie eyes lit up as she spotted the bright orange McLaren car. Oscar couldn’t help but smile at her reaction. It was the first time he’d seen her show interest in his world…. or really anything besides her family.

Yet, that moment didn’t last long.

Sadie, determined to explore, suddenly let go of Oscar’s hand and toddled off towards the car. Oscar’s heart skipped a beat as he scrambled after her, scooping her up just as she reached the edge of the garage. “No, no, no… not there.” he muttered, holding her close as he carried her back to the you and the relative safety of the stroller.

“She’s fast,” one of the mechanics chuckled, having witnessed the scene. “She’s like Verstappen on track!”

Oscar simply gave a embarrassed chuckle after his daughter’s attempts of adventure. Yet, Sadie’s terrorizing didn’t end there. As the day progressed, Oscar and you did your best to keep Sadie entertained and safe in the bustling environment of the McLaren garage in preparing for the race. Unfortunately, she seemed determined to explore every inch of the place, much to both of your guys’s dismay.

INSTANCE 1: TIRES

As Oscar tried to get a moment of calm in the garage, he put Sadie down for a quick break next to her stroller. He was just about to check in with his team when he heard a faint sound. Spinning around, he saw that Sadie had wriggled out of her stroller’s harness and was crawling towards a rack of tires.

Oscar’s heart raced as he dashed over, his eyes wide with panic. “That’s where we aren’t going, Missy.” he exclaimed, scooping her up just as she was about to pull herself up onto the stack. The tires wobble precariously, and Oscar’s breath caught in his throat. He held her tightly, his face pale as he glanced around to see if anyone had noticed his near disaster.

The surrounding mechanics, sensing his distress, quickly stepped in to stabilize the tires. One of them patted him on the back, “Seems to me she wants to be part of the pit crew already!”

“Maybe she’ll be the one changing your tires this race!” Another commented with a laugh.

Oscar forced a smile, but the worry lines on his forehead remained.

INSTANCE 2:

As Oscar prepared for the race, you took over watching Sadie, trying to keep her entertained while Oscar suited up. You were stationed near the McLaren garage entrance, making sure to keep a watchful eye on Sadie who was now sitting contentedly in her stroller—at least for the moment.

However, as you turned to chat with one of the team’s engineers, you heard a soft giggle followed by a rapid series of thumps. Turning quickly, you saw Sadie had somehow managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was crawling towards a set of hydraulic jacks. The sight of her tiny fingers reaching out to touch the massive equipment made your heart skip a beat.

“Nu uh, little lady! We don’t touch that! No no.” you exclaimed, rushing over to her. But as you got closer, Sadie let out a giggle as you lifted her up into your arms.

“I’ve never seen a baby this eager to be with McLaren.” Charlotte smiled as she passed by. “Perhaps she should start working with me at communications to be with Oscar more often!”

You gave a slightly embarrassed laugh as you buckled her in, she reached out with a pout, clearly unhappy with being restrained. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we have to stay safe,” you murmured, brushing her hair back.

The rest of the crew chuckled at the spectacle, but you could see the worried look on Oscar’s face as he came out of his room, suited up in his gear. “Everything okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“Just a small adventure with the hydraulic jacks,” you said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “She’s fine now, but we might need to make sure all the escape routes are blocked off.”

Oscar gave a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Noted…”

INSTANCE 3: THE LANDO OVERTAKE

As the tension in the garage reached a peak with the race fast approaching, Sadie’s curiosity showed no signs of waning. Oscar, now fully suited up and mentally bracing himself for the race, was still visibly on edge.

In the midst of the frantic pre-race preparations, you found yourself trying to keep Sadie entertained while Oscar finished his final checks with the team. However, Sadie’s attempts to explore had escalated to a full-blown quest for adventure.

The McLaren garage was abuzz with activity, but you kept a close eye on Sadie, who had recently discovered the appeal of the large, colorful tire barriers. She was reaching out, her small fingers attempting to grasp anything within her reach. Just as you managed to corral her back to the stroller, a familiar voice came from behind you both.

“Oscar, mate you look like you’ve went to hell and back.” Lando chuckled, approaching with a sympathetic grin. His eyes quickly darted to Sadie, who was now fixated on the box of tools that a mechanic handed her just to keep her occupied.

Oscar, still visibly stressed, gave a exhale, resting his head on your shoulder. “Lando, you have no idea. She’s like a magnet for trouble today.”

Lando and Sadie have met before, back when she was just born in a hospital visit.

Lando’s gaze softened as he crouched down to Sadie’s level, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey there, Sadie. How’s it going, little lady? You’ve grown up quite a bit haven’t you?” he questioned, trying to capture her attention.

Sadie’s tiny head turned toward Lando, her eyes wide with interest with the new face for today. The sight of Lando’s playful demeanor seemed to break through her persistent determination. For a moment, she was entranced by his animated expressions and the sound of his voice.

She reached out towards him, her earlier determination to explore seemingly melting away in the face of his playful antics. Lando’s antics were enough to draw a genuine smile from her, and she even let out a small giggle, her tiny fingers grasping at his brightly colored McLaren cap.

Oscar, watching from a short distance, let out a relieved breath as he saw Sadie’s attention shift from her previous distractions. It was as if Lando had managed to temporarily derail her adventurous spirit with nothing more than charm and a few well-timed funny faces.

Needless to say, Oscar was astonished. He spent a handful of hours trying to stop her from even wandering off and all it took was a a small talk and a funny face?

“I…wha… how?!”

“Having a niece helps out a lot when it comes to kids, y’know.”

All that was left now was race time.

POST RACE

After all the chaos, Oscar achieved a solid P4 just behind Lando. Truely a race to remember compared to first race last year.

When he finally emerged from the car, the first thing he did was seek out you and his daughter. He was visibly relieved to find her in one piece, though she had managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was now playing with the cap that Lando had given her.

Lando, who had been keeping an eye on Sadie during the race, gave Oscar a sympathetic grin. “You survived the race and the baby chaos. You’re a hero in my book.”

Oscar chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. He scooped Sadie up, finally able to relax. “Thanks, Lando. I think I need a nap after all this.”

As the team cleaned up and you all walked out of the garage, Sadie clinging to Oscar’s neck and half-asleep after all her terrorism she caused in the McLaren garage. Happily, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes but also a newfound contentment.

“We aren’t taking her to another race are we?” You questioned.

“Unless we got a baby leash like Kevin suggested? Hell no.” Oscar huffed out in response.

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 1

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Magical Orthodontry...

(I should probably mention that my thoughts about plastic surgery/any kind of cosmetic enhancement are pretty much that as long as the person who has it done likes the result, it does not matter if anybody else thinks they needed it.

It’s their body, their choice and if they think they look prettier with a new nose/straighter teeth/fuller lips, good for them.

For myself, I love what braces did for my teeth and what one of those heatless curler things currently does for my hair lol)

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

It was bad. 

Eira shouldn’t have expected any differently. 

Maybe it had been the promise of mail-order catalogues that had made her think that maybe this time she wasn’t going to want to die halfway through her biannual week of torture…

But there was nothing the shadows could do, short of giving her pain potions that rendered her unconscious and plying her with soup. 

She let them. 

She was too weak to protest, in too much pain…feeling like a baby bird that needed them to slowly spoon broth in her mouth so that she only needed to swallow. 

But at least they were there. They didn’t leave her alone. Regardless of when she woke up…at what time of day or night…they were there. 

Ready with pain potions and armed with soup, and when she just needed something to get her mind off the pain, they told her stories. 

Little fables of Illyria and Prythian…children’s stories. 

Maybe one day she could tell the same stories to Nyx. 

It took 4 days… halfway through that week, when there was a knock at her door. 

Elain, the shadows whispered into her ear and she held back a groan. 

She didn’t want to deal with her sister. 

“Come in!” she called nonetheless and only then realised that she still had the key in the lock. The shadows swarmed out to turn it and then disappeared, scurrying underneath her desk. 

She forced herself to sit up, wondering how much of a mess she looked…probably like death warmed over twice, but to be completely honest…she wasn’t pretty on a good day, so what did it matter? 

Becoming Fae had somehow perfected the faces of her sisters. They still looked like themselves, but the cauldron had seemingly made them much more symmetrical, their limbs longer, their ears pointed…and for Elain, the cauldron…it had turned her from beautiful into otherworldly gorgeousness. 

For Eira…it had made her ears pointy. 

No, wait that wasn’t true…Her hair was seemingly even more unmanageable than it ever had been as a human…and her teeth…the less was said about that was better. 

She had already been self-conscious about them as a human. As a fae, surrounded by ridiculously attractive people every day, it was…something else entirely. 

“Good Morning,” Eira said quietly. Elain stared at her, surprise etched on her face. 

“Have you really spent the few days moping in your bed?” she asked, judgment clear in her voice. Eira wanted to bristle. Hadn’t Elain done the exact same thing when she had first been made? And Elain hadn’t had the excuse of a cycle for it. 

“Yes, Elain,” she said back quietly. “It’s….It’s that time of the year,” she mumbled, looking at everything but her sister. If Elain couldn’t even smell the thick cloying scent of blood that was clinging to Eira, she couldn’t help her. 

Elain just harrumphed.  “Look, I do realise that I may have been needlessly harsh,” she said, crossing her arms. Somehow managing to sound gracious even now.“But you do need to realise, Eira, that that is never going to go anywhere.” 

Eira blinked. Twice. 

Somebody put her heart into a vice and crushed it. 

Of all the things she had expected Elain to say…this wasn’t it. 

“Azriel is completely disinterested,” Elain continued. “And it would be better for you if you finally realised that.” 

“What does it matter to you?” Eira finally managed to bring out, her voice thankfully not shaking…And still….she sounded…weak. That’s what she sounded like. 

“I want you to be happy. And thirsting after a male that will never return your affections you won’t do that,” Elain said with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not going to change his mind, Eira.”

Eira flinched at Elain’s words. She couldn’t help it. 

Even when she knew…she knew her sister was right. She knew that…

“You should just stop your pathetic attempts of flirting with him. All you manage is to make him uncomfortable,” Elain continued with a roll of her eyes. 

Pathetic attempts of flirting? What did Elain even mean? Her nervous ramblings? Her stolen glances? The way her heart skipped a beat when she got to see him? 

She had never asked him out…on a date or anything else…she had never even mentioned courting in his near vicinity. She had done nothing, said nothing to Azriel that made her feelings obvious to him. 

It was all just…

“There are plenty of fish in the sea…” Elain said with a sigh. “You’ll find somebody else one day,” Elain told her, sounding some mixture between pitying and bored, as she turned to go. “Do you want me to ask Feyre to send Madja?”

“No, thank you. I have pain potions,”  Eira whispered, and Elain turned on her heel, marching back out of her room. 

Eira listened to her sister leave…she buried her face in her pillows.  

“Would you lock the door, please?” She whispered. 

Nobody else. Just her.

Why shouldn’t Elain once again stab her in the same wound…why not?  Why…

And then…somehow it was like somebody flipped a switch. 

She turned angry. Angry at Elain, at her twin sister. Who hid behind this veil of sisterly worry and only used it to hurt Eira?

She was so…she was so…She was so angry. 

She never was angry.  But right now it was swelling beneath her skin and she wanted…she wanted… Not revenge. Not really. 

She made Azriel uncomfortable with what? With nervous ramblings and stolen glances? 

Fine. She would stop that. She would stop all of that. 

She wouldn’t even talk to him again, so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. She would ignore him. She would be icily polite and that was that. 

And she would find herself a husband and have all the babies she wanted and that would be that. She would find herself…somebody else. Somebody who wanted her.  Somebody for whom she wasn’t annoying…who she didn’t make uncomfortable.

Somebody for herself. 

Something for herself. 

She would fill her room with stupid trinkets she bought herself because nobody else would do it for her. She would buy pretty dresses that tried to mask that she wasn’t as pretty as her sisters. She would do all of that. 

And what her sisters thought about any of that…well, she didn’t fucking care. Not anymore. 

She wasn’t the only one angry. The shadows were hissing, spitting, swirling menacingly, nearly filling the whole room…and she wasn’t scared. That didn’t even cross her mind.

How dares she? The shadows hissed. She owed you an apology, not…not this.

Maybe for the first time in her life, Eira Archeron wanted to be utterly and completely selfish. 

Nobody was going to put her first. Not if she didn’t do it herself. 

“I’ll be buying myself something horribly expensive,” she finally said, her voice shaking. 

Do it, the shadows said, amusement bleeding into their voice, still angrily swirling, coming to wrap around her wrists. Buy whatever you want.

They dropped a catalogue next to her hands, and Eira reached out to take it with shaky hands. 

Whatever she wanted. 

The problem was only, she had no idea what she wanted. 

Maybe a new dress? Maybe some jewellery…like a necklace? Or a bracelet? 

A ring?

Like the rings her sisters had? Given to them by their mates, who loved them? 

Feyre’s Sapphire? The Ruby that encircled Nesta’s finger since her mating ceremony? 

Or maybe Elain’s ring…gold and diamond, looking like the rays of the sun, so fitting for the future wife of the heir to the Day Court. 

No. No jewellery. 

These godforsaken pearl earrings had been enough. 

Something Eira wanted. Something Eira needed. 

Eira could use a new pair of shoes. She already had brought her old ones to the cobbler thrice. Maybe…that wasn’t a ridiculous request after all…

She opened the catalogue, paging through it until she found the shoe section. She stared at the little pictures accompanying them. Humans hadn’t yet figured out how to do print in full colour, but the drawings on this page were brightly colourful. Clearly not a problem here in Prythian. 

She quickly slipped over the pages that had silk slippers and pretty heels on them. That wasn’t practical to run after Nyx with, right? Then she found a page with practical leather shoes… decisively female, a small heel…they weren’t that dissimilar to human fashion. 

She examined them closer. “Laces or Buckle? What do you think?” she asked the shadows. The ones with shoelaces were cheaper…but if she bought one with the buckles, she could also change them out, buy extra buckles…swap them with a crystal-embellished buckle or silver for gold…

All of that was possible. 

The ones with the buckles! The shadows said quickly. 

“They are pretty, aren’t they?” Eira commented and marked the page by folding down one corner as she turned the page. 

Definitely one contender. 

She couldn’t remember ever having done anything similar before. 

When she had still been human, as a child her mother had reigned over her wardrobe with an iron fist. They had never been allowed to pick out anything. 

And then later…after they had lost their fortune…well, picking out anything involved turning around every clipped copper coin. 

She had never been able to just…leisurely look at things and find the pretty and think about buying them…without even really looking at the price tag attached to them. 

Eira flipped back to the shoes, the tip of her finger tracing the writing…she had always been atrocious at reading. The letter tended to change their position, and it hadn’t changed as a Fae either. and she could never tell that to anybody, because the one time she had, her finger had been violently rapped by a wooden ruler and that had been that. 

If she just took her time…carefully…it worked. Just took her longer. She found the price attached to the shoes, knowing that even without the shadows, she could afford them. 

She had stashed away money in the chest at the foot of her bed after all. Not a lot but…enough for the shoes. 

Eira paged through more of the catalogue…oohing and awwing over dresses, where the shadows tried to talk her into buying herself a ballgown much to her amusement, though in the end, they agreed on a pretty blue-grey dress with billowing sleeves cuffed at her wrist…

Eira would never feel comfortable in the Night Court fashion of cropped tops and pants…she would much rather be covered up completely. But that dress…that looked quite pretty. 

She turned to the next page, and the next after that, trawling her way through skirts and cardigans and shirt waists…

And then Eira found the fabric section, biting her lip. Any time she had gone to a fabric shop in Velaris, it had been to buy fabric for a gift for her sisters. Never for herself. She didn’t need anything. 

That’s pretty, the shadows whispered in her ear, seemingly solidifying to point out a specific cotton print on that page. 

She wondered how they even saw anything. They didn’t have eyes. But then magic seemed to be the answer to nearly everything in Prythian. 

It was pretty. A ditsy little floral print…white ground, green leaves…It was pretty. So was a white cotton gauze with little dots…that was the one that she considered seriously. The price was good…she could use a new dress for her birthday…

She marked that page as well, flipping over to the next…and there it was. 

It was an advertisement that caught her eye, and she was nearly flicking to the next page as she caught the word teeth. 

“Faes can fix teeth?“ she asked weakly, as she read that advertisement, a promise about cosmetic procedures…like full lashes and eyebrows and…perfect teeth. 

Perfect teeth. 

“Could they fix mine?” she asked, desperation bleeding into her voice. 

Her teeth were…well, her greatest insecurity on a good day. They were…fine. It wasn’t painful at least. It was just that her two front teeth were too big for her face…which made her look like…

What’s wrong with your teeth? Do they hurt you? You’ll need a healer for that, the shadows said immediately, worriedly. 

“They are too big. Just the two front teeth. I look like a rabbit,”  she admitted in a whisper. Or a mole rat. Her mother had preferred the latter. 

Everything else could be fixed one way or another…but nothing could be fixed for her teeth. 

When she had been a child she had still hoped that she would grow into them, but that had never happened. 

And not even the cauldron had thought it would be prudent to fix them. Leaving her with them…still standing out starkly. 

They were the reason why she never smiled widely, why she made sure to talk with her lips pulled over them…why she didn’t wear bright lipstick. 

A few dozen things that she didn’t do because of them. 

You do not look like a rabbit, the shadows disagreed with a snort…and then after a moment:  Do they bother you?

They asked that like it was a near foreign thing…like…

“My mother used to…She used to tell me that…” She tried to bring the words over her lips but she choked on them. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t…

Once you feel better, you can go and have them changed to however you want to look, the shadows told her softly. Do they truly bother you that much?

“I know that I won’t ever be the beautiful one. But…if…If I could just feel…just feel pretty…just once,” she whispered, staring at that advertisement. 

If they could just fix her teeth… 

As soon as you feel better, the shadows promised her. But that’s not ridiculously expensive. Neither is one single pair of shoes, that dress….or a few yards of that fabric. Nearly teasing. 

But it was nice teasing. Sweet teasing. Teasing that did nothing but make a small smile appear on her face. 

“I could always buy more fabric,” she gave back, biting her lip and the shadows tugged at her fingers in response. 

But if magic could fix her teeth…maybe it could also fix her hair. 

A light brown mess on her head that never did what she wanted it to do… 

“Is there something for my hair as well?” she asked hesitantly, and the shadows flipped through her catalogue until it brought her to a page with hair care supplies. 

There are potions you can use…enchanted brushes too, they told her. You’ll want something for naturally curly hair.  

They didn’t need to tell Eira that twice. 

The morning she stopped bleeding she was out on the streets of Velaris as soon as the sun rose…dropping off the dresses she had hemmed, and picking up her newest commissions and then walking to that shop that promised her perfect teeth. 

It was a woman, a female, her age who looked up from the magazine she was reading, took one look at her, asked for a handful of gold coins…gave her a mirror in her hand and then drily said: “Just say stop when they have the size you want.”

And that was that. 

Eira could have wept with her gratitude. 

Her teeth looked perfect. Just like she had so often hoped they would look. 

The same could be said about her hair after one bath with her new potions and a run-through with her enchanted brush. 

Unmanageable frizzy hair that never looked like she wanted it to look? 

With magic no more. Thick, perfect, glossy curls fell over her shoulders in fat ringlets. 

To say that she was in a good mood after that…It was the understatement of a dozen centuries at least. 

Eira was ecstatic. 

She loved it. She felt…she felt so pretty. For once. 

“Good Morning!” she chirped as she entered the dining room. Not even the sight of Elain pouring over her wedding binders could put a dent in her happiness that morning. 

“Good Morning,” Elain responded, staring at her like she had gone mad but Eira didn’t care, as she poured herself a cup of tea, took a slice of toast, smeared jam all over it... 

“It’s a beautiful day outside, isn’t it?” she asked brightly, as she took a bite, chewed, swallowed…

Elain stared at her. 

“Eira…what did you do with your teeth?” her sister asked her, staring at her. 

“I got them fixed! Isn’t that great? Magic can do that!” she enthused. They were perfect! They looked just like she wanted them to look!

It was like thunder pulled over Elain’s expression. “You can’t be serious!” she snapped. “What were you thinking?!”

“That I got my teeth fixed?”  Eira gave back questioningly. What did it even matter to Elain? Couldn’t she just be happy? Eira was so fucking happy about her choice. 

“This doesn’t change things, Eira!” Elain said harshly. “It’s still never going to go anywhere!”

She opened her mouth to respond, but she was beaten to it. 

“What is never going to go anywhere?” Feyre’s voice came from the doorway as she entered, Nyx on her hips, staring around the room…waving chubby little arms in Eira’s direction that made her smile at him brightly. 

“Eira’s little crush on Azriel,” Elain said evenly. “He’s completely disinterested. and she has gone and gotten her teeth fixed in some hare-brained attempt to…”

“What does it matter to you?” Eira interrupted her. This had nothing to do with…him. This had been for her. Because she was the one her teeth bothered, long before she had ever even met him.  “They aren’t your teeth.” 

Feyre stared at her and Eira smiled brightly, showing all her teeth…something she would have never done before. But now she did. 

“Your teeth were fine before,” Feyre told her, staring at her like she couldn’t quite believe that Eira had gone and done this.  

“My teeth were too big for my mouth,” Eira disagreed. And really, she didn’t understand why she even needed to defend herself on this. “The last time I checked I was allowed to do with my body whatever I wanted,” she murmured under her breath. 

And this…this was harmless. This was just fixing her teeth. It didn’t hurt anybody. Not her, not anybody else…

Feyre didn’t seem convinced. “How much money did you spend on this?” her sister asked her, a sharpness sinking into her voice and Eira crossed her arms. 

“Not a single coin that belongs to you or your mate,” she gave back, her voice cold. “I spend my money, money I earned, on something that I wanted.” 

She was allowed to want things. Whatever she wanted, the shadows had promised her and they had kept that promise. 

“Did you do this because of Azriel?” Feyre asked, softening slightly. “Eira, that’s not going to work.”

She knew that. 

“My whole life does not revolve around other people,” Eira said calmly, meeting her sister's gaze. “I wanted it.”

“He’s still not going to be interested in you,” Elain snorted. 

Once again. Hitting that one weak spot her sister had sussed out. 

People always thought that Elain was oh-so-sweet. What they forgot was that even the most beautiful, most fragrant rose had its thorns. 

She said nothing. Didn’t flinch away. Didn’t say anything. 

“It’s true,” Feyre said with a sigh, actually agreeing with Elain. “I have wanted to talk to you about that, Eira…” her sister said, visibly uncomfortable. “Could you at least try to get over him? It’s…it would be better for…this court.”

Of course, it would be. This court. 

Because that’s what mattered, right? That’s what mattered to the High Lady. 

That the court was functional. That the spymaster wasn’t uncomfortable…that her sister wasn’t having a ridiculous puppy crush on another member of this court.  

And what was Eira supposed to say to this? 

What was she supposed to say to that? 

Eira’s feelings didn’t really matter anyway. They were nothing but an inconvenience. 

“I am sorry,” she said, her voice quiet, staring at her hands so that she didn’t need to look at two of her sisters…so they wouldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes. “I’ll make sure that my feelings won’t inconvenience anybody else ever again.”

“That’s not…” Feyre started, but Eira shook her head.

“I understand,” she said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth, all her appetite gone, as she stood to go back to her room. 

[notmuchtofind]

"you're doing a sex scene?!" | d.s

word count: 1.8k

tw: mentions of manipulation and aggressive behaviour

synopsis: drew reveals his role requires a sex scene and this causes explosive disagreements | slight fluff slight aggressive

you place the bag groceries on the kitchen counter and begin a sigh of relief, the lift in your apartment block is broken and climbing 5 flights of stairs with 3 bags of groceries isn't so fun..

As you walk over to your hallway to kick off your shoes you hear a few thuds at the door, in a beat you're so familiar with. You were expecting Drew around 9ish, you quickly check your watch to see it's 8:47pm... you giggle to yourself slightly and grin with excitement "he's early" you mumble to yourself . A wave of eagerness rushes over you as you lean over to grab the door handle and twist the recently locked door. opening the door, you look up to see Drew, all sun kissed and beaming. He's been in South Carolina for a couple months shooting the latest season of obx so it doesn't surprise you to see his slight tan, you'd imagine he's topless half the time, so it explains itself...

"baby!" he exclaimed with a devilish yet blissful look on his face

"I've missed you!" you say whilst being engulfed into a hug by drew, you feel his arms wrap around you, becoming tighter with time as you stand there swaying back and forth for a while... He places his hands on you shoulders and pushes you back slightly so he can begin to look at your face.

He places a kiss on your forehead "i've missed you y/n/n" he mutters, he looks almost taken back by you, as he makes eye contact, forcing nerves into the pit of your stomach.

"trust you to come 5 minutes after I've just had to carry all the groceries up the stairs by myself!" you tease 

"work those muscles baby" he chuckles

After a few long weeks of being away from each other it's nice to be back in each other's company, Drew helps you put the groceries away and you quickly hop in the shower, you change into your trackies and settle on the couch with Drews head in-between your legs. you run your hands over his buzz cut hair, feeling the individual strands poking at your palm whilst you binge watch.

"hey y/n/n" 

"mmhm?" you murmur

"i've been meaning to mention...I think, maybe, like the next season of outer banks; rafe develops a love interest and I... um-" 

you're suddenly all ears "a love interest?" you interrupt, sitting up slightly, causing Drew to sit up so he's now facing you on the couch.

"yeh, I think so?" said with slight tension

" but I think Jonas is wanting a few urm...like, a few" he stutters and your eyes widen "some sex scenes between me and Fiona..." He paused as you gave him a slight glance

"You know Fiona, right? you met her when you came to visit me shooting last month?" he questions

Yes, of course you know Fiona, is he kidding!?? she's gorgeous, she's bubbly and she's funny she's-...

'fuck, am I jealous?' you think too yourself

"umm, yeh Fiona, she was really nice when I met her" you state through gritted teeth

drew chuckles nervously "I just thought I should let you know...I mean obviously it's all professional but you know... I-"

"No, don't be silly, I know drew. It's your job. I expect it...obviously " you say, getting up off the couch and heading over to the open plan kitchen...'did that come off slightly passive aggressive?' you think too yourself.

Drew leans back into the couch, watching you from afar, you can feel his eyes burning into your back as you grab a glass from the cupboard.

you're aware it's his job, but surely anyone in this position would feel slightly jealous, he's going to have to act intimate with someone and it's then going to be seen by the rest of the world, you're unaware of how sex scenes operate...how far will it have to go and how much skin will be seen?! uncontrollable thoughts run through your mind, you find yourself questioning the love Drew has for you. Are you good enough? Will an on screen romance become an off screen one? In all fairness, Drew and the cast spend more time together within the 6 months of filming than you and Drew do within that 6 months alone...you feel yourself snap.

by snap I don't mean scream, nor shout, nor cry. 

However, there is a slightly toxic side to you, one which is created by past relationships, people that have made you feel less than. Before you met drew, you'd been through some shit and it's always been difficult for you to trust...you're subconsciously 'triggered'

" She's pretty right?" you say, turning to Drew and catching his eyes with yours.

you stand there with an empty glass on the counter as you wait for his response.

"umm.." he stutters, taken back by your question

"she's a nice girl y/n/n...why?"

you nod slowly, pouring a drink into the glass..."yeh,she's a nice girl" you repeat, again, through gritted teeth

Drew squints his eyes over at you as he tries to figure out what your trying to do..."listen baby, its professional, you can't-"

"I can't what?" you interrupt with a slightly raised voice 

There was a silence that filled the room.

"I'm going to bed," you murmur as you grab your glass off the counter and take your first step towards your bedroom.

"y/n/n?" drew exclaimes, but you ignore him

"fuck sake" you hear drew mutters under his breath, followed by a sigh as he tilts his head back into the couch. 

Darting your head over to his direction, you interrogate.

"Am I too much for you?" you exclaim 

"what?" drew says confused whilst frowning "no y/n I-"

you interrupted "so why are you making me feel like you dealing with my emotions is a chore?!" 

"Yes, I'm slightly pissed off drew. but there's nothing I can do about it. just let me have some time, don't sigh at me like I'm so difficult for you?" you say, raising your voice slightly more. He stands up and raises his hands slightly in-front of his chest whilst he gestures "are you fucking kidding me?" he chuckles sarcastically. "I've hardly said a word this whole time, you're being manipulative y/n. stop?" he demands 

"manipulative? drew? really?" 

Drew walks over to you, and you can now see slight anger in his eyes, his energy feels cold. 

"yes!" he exclaims, he comes close to your face and continues to gesture "asking me if I think she's pretty? What kind of question is that? you're trying to catch me out y/n?!" he lashes

"I was just asking you a question drew I-"

"are you fucking kidding me!? you want me to turn around and tell you that, yeh! yanno what, I cant wait to fuck her!? is that what you want? please tell me y/n '' drew shouts.

you're taken back by his aggressive body language and his raised voice and the words he's just spoken. you can feel slight tears forming in the back of your retina, the ball in your stomach grows bigger and you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You're not usto arguing with Drew so explosively, you're not used to seeing his aggressive body language and if you're honest, it scared you. you could either lash out, you could scream...but you're suddenly engulfed by a wave of upset.

"I'm going to bed" you state. turning on the balls of your feet to continue to walk down the hall. A single tear escapes your eye but you're waiting to reach the bathroom before you can let all your emotions overwhelm your being. you didn't give yourself time to see the expression on Drews face after he'd stopped shouting but you didn't have to look to tell that he instantly regretted what he said, you could feel his energy change as you walked away.

_________________

you've turned to face the wall, struggling to sleep when...A few thuds at your bedroom door, in the beat you're again, so familiar with. you haven't been able to fall asleep and to be honest you were hoping Drew would knock and come in, he knows you hate sleeping without resolving an argument. it could be the biggest argument or the smallest argument you've ever had but you always make sure to have it somewhat sorted out before either of you say goodnight, whether he's 3000 miles away or just next door.

"hey y/n/n" drew whispers as you heard the door shut quietly behind him but you didn't turn around. "hey...are you sleeping?" he questions before you feel the bed slightly dip and a creak from the headboard.

It takes you a minute  but you eventually turn around, to be greeted by the back of Drew, he looks to have his head in his hands sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm awake" you mutter.

He turns slightly, greeting you with an apologetic smile, he then goes to grab your exposed arm and rubs it with his thumb. his energy is warm and calm, much different too before. it makes the nerves form again in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies. "Listen baby" he states "I'm sorry about the shit I said and urm... the way I raised my voice. my actions were out of order and for that i'm sorry..." he sighs apologetically 

There was a slight silence whilst you thought of what to say, but before you could speak he began again "you know I love you? right? It upsets me that you worry about my opinions on anyone else because, I'm sorry but, in my mind no one compares to you y/n/n, I honestly do think you are. thé. most." drew emphasises "perfect girl in the world for me" he finishes, looking at you with a devilish grin 

he knows how to capture your heart...you roll your eyes playfully trying to shy away from the fact he's made you weak... whilst a smile creeps upon your face you push his arm and chuckle slightly.

you sigh.

"i'm sorry about my outburst, it was out of order" you admit "I was slightly jealous and I-"

"only slightly?!" drew says with a sarcastic shocked faces as he interrupts you, playfully teasing

"fuck off" you chuckle, pushing his arm

"Yes, it's because everyone wants you...what can I say, it's hard being me!" rolling your eyes, teasing him back

He engulfs you into a hug and plants kisses all over your face and neck, almost like he's attacking you. you giggle and say stop, but really you need him to carry on. 

"fuck! I love you drew" 

"fuck... I love you" he reiterates.

[backwardhatmatt]

↳ Reminder

˚ · . 𝓲𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱… you go out with your best friend in an attempt to forget about your ex, but he finds his way back into your life

˚ · . 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼… my first fic😬; bathroom sex; p in v; unprotected; language; f!ngering; mentions of drinking; pet names

“���𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙞 𝙖𝙢, 𝙞’𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ · ୨୧· ⋆｡˚ ⋆

“Are you just gonna mope around forever? You’ve gotta forget about him eventually. You broke up with him for a reason.” my best friend, Madi, said while she put on her new lip combo for the 5th time in the last 15 minutes.

“I just can’t… I regret breaking up with him if I’m being honest.” I reply, hiding myself in his my hoodie.

Matt and I dated for 8 months, almost 9. Almost as long as a whole pregnancy. But I threw it away. I threw it away cause you were pissed that he “went out too much”. Of course he goes out, we’re young, why was I mad? Why did I break up with him?

“Oh please, you need to forget about him. Do you not remember how he would always brush you off for his friends, or even ditch you to hangout with other people?”

Madi scoffs and repeats herself,

“You need to forget about him. We should go out to the club !!”

“The club? I don’t know. I don’t think I even have anything good to wear…”

“I have the perfect thing for you, don’t even worry.”

She rushes over to her closet, skimming through her outfits and occasionally throwing things off to the side. A few moments later, she grins and turns to face me, holding up a lacy red dress.

“Isn’t it perfect? And it’ll show off your boobs.”

Madi giggles like a little kid and sets it down on the bed beside me.

Maybe she’s right. I did break up with him, why am I still so hung up on him? Maybe I do need to forget about Matt. The least I can do is try.

“Soooo you gonna wear it or what??”

I sigh and look back and forth between her and the dress, chewing on my bottom lip lightly while I think.

“Okay fine I guess I will.”

“Yay!! We’ll have so much fun!”

She does a little clap and a goofy smile while I get up from the bed and pick up the dress. Madi walks over to her vanity and sits down in front of it, fixing her concealer.

“You know where the bathroom is, I’m redoing my make up. We gotta find some men to fuck!”

“Yeah okay I don’t know about all that” I laugh a bit while walking to Madi’s bathroom. She calls out, “I’m definitely finding someone!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ · ୨୧· ⋆｡˚ ⋆

As we made our way into the club, it was already packed. Red lights shined down on us, and music was blaring so loudly that it would definitely leave my ears ringing for days.

“Come on we should get a drink!” Madi yelled over the music.

“Yeah I definitely need to not be sober for this”

I followed her to the bar, my hand loosely holding hers so we don’t get separated from each other in the crowd. She accidentally bumps into someone, getting their drink down the side of her dress.

“Oh what the fuck! You go to the bar, I’m washing this off in the bathroom!”

Before I even get the chance to say anything, she’s running towards the bathroom. I make my way towards the bar, sitting down at an empty seat.

So far, this has not been a pleasant experience. But it’s definitely getting my mind off of him.

Suddenly, a large hand holds onto my shoulder. I turn my head around quickly and my heart drops.

Matt.

“What the hell…” I mutter under my breath and look up to meet his gaze.

“What? Not even a hello?” He flashes a side smirk and I can already feel myself getting wet. He sits down on the bar stool besides mine and holds eye contact.

“Just… you were the last person I was expecting to see tonight.”

I stare into his icy blue eyes, subconsciously clenching my thighs together.

“Didn’t know you were the clubbing type.” He tilts his head to the side slightly.

“I’m only here because of Madi.”

“I don’t see her. Where’s she at? And she really dragged you here? Why?”

“Oh she just.. she got some drink spilled on her dress…and she got me to come because…um, she said I needed to ‘forget about you’.” my voice gets quieter and I look away from him as my cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

“Forget about me? That’s absurd. You’re my girl.”

I can feel my thong getting soaked and my face flushes a deep red.

“You can’t just say things like that…” I keep my gaze away from his, determined to not make eye contact.

“Why? Does it get you flustered? I see the way you’re squeezing your thighs together.”

He suddenly grabs my chin and turns my head to face him.

“Look at me when I talk to you.”

“Yeah it makes me flustered. I’m supposed to be forgetting about you, not talking with you.”

“You wanna forget? Let me remind you.”

He places a hand on my upper thigh, his rings chilling my skin slightly. I look down at his hand, the only thought going through my mind is how his fingers would feel curled inside me.

“I’m pretty sure they have a family bathroom in this place.”

My eyes immediately flick up to his at his bold comment.

“Uh yeah I think so…”

“Let me remind you, hm?”

“Yeah let’s go.”

I almost jump out of my seat. He gets up, placing a hand on my lower back, and leads us towards the bathrooms.

He pushes the door of the family bathroom open, letting me walk inside first before swiftly shutting and locking the door. I back myself up against the counter and he follows, standing infront of me. He places his hand on the edge of the counter beside me and uses the other to play with the strap of my dress.

“Can I take this off?”

I nod and get more flustered, on the verge of begging for his touch. He slips down my dress, letting it to fall to the floor as he puts his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up and placing me down on the cold counter.

“You look so pretty like this.” Matt says while running his middle and index finger across my still clothed clit and entrance. I moan softly at the contact.

“So wet for me too…” He moves his hands up to the edge of my thong as I whine at the loss of contact.

“Can I take this off too baby?”

“Y-yeah. You can..”

As soon as those words leave my mouth, he’s yanks my thong down and discards it on the floor. He brings his fingers back up to my clit and moves them in small, teasing circles.

“Oh fuck… don’t tease me Matt.” He doesn’t say anything, instead shutting me up by kissing me and pushing his fingers into my cunt easily.

He pumps his fingers in and out quickly. I moan out loudly as he starts leaving red marks at the base of my neck, causing him to place his free hand over my mouth.

“Quiet. You don’t want anyone hearing, do you?”

“No…” My response is a little muffled, considering his hand is over my mouth, and he only speeds up his pace. That familiar knot in my stomach starts to form. My back starts to arch, my walls clenching around his fingers.

“You close baby?” He asks, still pumping his fingers into me madly, starting to curl them to hit that sensitive spot.

The only thing I can do is nod as I lean my head back in pleasure.

“Use your words.”

“Yes- fuck!” I yell out as I cum hard on his fingers, and he keeps going while I come down from my high.

“You did so good f’me.” He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean.

“Holy shit…” I start to catch my breath for only a few moments before he commands me again.

“Get up and turn around.” Immediately I listen, getting off the counter and turning around so my back is pressed against his chest. He runs his hand from the bottom of my spine to my neck, bending me over the counter. I shiver at the feeling.

I watch in the mirror as he quickly undos his belt buckle and shoves down his baggy jeans and navy blue boxers. My lipstick is smudged and there’s make up running down my face. Already looking fucked out but we haven’t actually fucked yet.

He strokes himself a few times before pushing his tip up to my entrance. He grabs my hands and pins them behind my back before pushing his entire length in, his tip kissing my cervix. I whine at the stretch, but the pain quickly turns to pleasure.

“So fuckin’ tight…” He groans as he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into me. Feels like I could cum again right then.

He continues fucking me roughly and I let my head fall forward as I let out another loud moan. Matt grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head up so I can see him through the mirror.

“You’re gonna watch.” All I can do is nod at his command as I feel that knot in my stomach get tighter.

“Matt.. I’m gonna cum!” I look into his eyes and can feel my walls clench around him again. He drops my hair and brings his hand down to my clit, rubbing small tight circles.

“Come f’me. Come on my cock.”

The knot in my stomach snaps, and I let out a loud pornographic moan as I cum for the second time. He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and stroking himself. His cum lands on my back as he throws his head back.

The only sounds filling the bathroom are heavy breathing. He grabs a wad of toilet paper, using it to clean off my back.

“Let me clean you up…” He bends down and places his hands on my ass as he starts licking at my clit and entrance. I whine a bit as I’m still sensitive, but he gets up and licks his lips after a few moments.

“That definitely did not help me forgot you.” I say while getting up and sliding my thong back up.

“Maybe you should try to forget me more often so we can do that again.”

We get our clothes back on and sneak out the bathroom together, but Madi is practically 2 feet away from the bathrooms. She glances over, seeing me and Matt leaving, and immediately walks over to me.

“When I said we need to find some men to fuck I didn’t mean your ex!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ · ୨୧· ⋆｡˚ ⋆

˚ · . 𝓪/𝓷… my first fic and attempt at smut so sorry if it sucks 🤗…also rushed that ending whoops

[apas-95]

I’m an anarchocommunist that thinks a lot of other anarchists are stupid. For example, I don’t think that most people will just make insulin or do garbage collection/processing out of the kindness of their heart, and I also don’t think if it was genuinely done out of the kindness of their hearts that it’d work great. My idea is that for the “getting people to do the shitty jobs” question, the people that do those jobs should be compensated better in some way. Maybe a larger/nicer house, I’m not sure on the details. But other anarchists will say “all labor is equal”, and while I’d like to agree in the “work is hard” sense, I think things for the obvious common good, like teacher or garbage man or doctor deserve some sort of reward over other jobs. And for the efficiency of the labor, I think *specifically for labor* there needs to be some sort of organization, and we can use what’s worked before. We don’t need to have bathtub insulin if there’s a factory right there, and if there’s no connection from the insulin factory to doctors/pharmacists and truck drivers then it won’t work either. Really, my main problem with Marxism/Leninism or Stalinism or Maoism or any combination of those is that there are specific people with far too much power over others. I’m ok with light power in the way of “man you gotta drive the firetruck to the burning building even though you hate the dude that lives there”, but I’m not ok with the idea of a supreme leader or representatives in a political sense due to as I’ve amounts of power obviously corrupting people.

Really I’m sending this to you to get your criticism of my ideas- I think you’re pretty smart, and even if I disagree with you on some issues, I think I agree with you on others. I also want to say that not all anarchists are… like that.

So, years ago, before I started reading any Marxist theory, this is about where I was at politically. If you think about any of the practicalities, you come up to points where, very clearly, the maxim of 'no authority at all' conflicts with being able to do anything. If you're seriously considering how society could be better organised, if this is something you actually intend on bringing about, then you make some amount of concession to reality - as you did with the firetruck example!

Now, myself, I went on like this for a good while, coming up with methods of truly democratic organisation that wouldn't be susceptible to the types of totalitarianism I'd heard about, ending up very similar to your position. I was interested, however, in how these 'failed experiments' that I'd learned devolved into bureaucracy started out, and I started reading up on the history, and realised, with some discontent, that what I'd developed, once I'd made all the concessions for reality that would be necessary if this system were to be the actual one real human beings lives depended on, was essentially identical to the Soviet system.

From there, I read up on Marxist theory, still basically wary that this had all, at some point, been taken over by an evil dictator, but able to see that the earliest stages, at least, had been exactly what I was imagining, but put into practice. Reading the theory, reading how their experience experimenting with different forms of organisation, and the failures of some types, had led them to discover what did and didn't work, and adjust accordingly, made me suddenly appreciate why certain things were done certain ways. The harsh experiences of civil war had revealed certain dynamics and mechanics in the way society and production worked, which translates into political theories that bore out results I wouldn't have expected (and neither had the communists who had discovered them through practice!).

Eventually, with some chagrin and a significant deal of excitement, I realised that much of what I'd passively absorbed about socialism, many of the common-sense maxims that I'd been taught by capitalist society about the nature of power and so on, were very much artifacts of a decades-long war against these communists and the system they'd built, carried out by exactly the corporations and empires I had thought myself opposed to.

I won't critique any individual point of yours, but I will enjoin you to try out some Marxist theory - Dialectical and Historical Materialism, or Socialism, Utopian and Scientific, or Principles of Communism, or even the Communist Manifesto, and to read between the lines of whatever capitalist source you read on socialism, to notice every [citation needed] and wonder what actually happened such that someone felt the need to make something up.

[motherloads]

Meet Me in the Pale Moonlight

Disclaimer: I absolutely love Jenny in the film! Too bad I like writing miscommunication. No bashing of Jenny!

The reader was supposed to be brooding and menacing? But she’s a wreck with a symbiote lol.

My spanish is also pretty meh in writing despite being Mexican myself. I speak better than I write! Pls keep that in mind ◡̈

Summary: The reader watches on the sidelines as Jenny and her longtime crush, Jaime Reyes become close to one another. Being Milagro's closest friend, she dreads when she has to come over and see the lovebirds.

But who says her little friend would allow this to happen? And who says what she sees is true?

->Pairings: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader

-> Use of (Name).

-> Marvel/DC crossover (mentioned Eddie Brock, Peter Parker, and relations to other fic)

->Warning: So much miscommunication, murder talk, and spinal cord removal :(

Once again, please ignore grammar mistakes.

⋆｡°✩

I'm the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean? When you gonna ditch that stupid, you got? It's me you should be seeing.

"Are you just going to continue to stare?" Milagro questions her close friend, who stares at her brother with a pair of love-sick eyes. "Dude, just go talk to him."

"Can't really do that," Her friend hums in response, "Look, Kord is walking over to him. Now he's going to have the brightest smile ever and then they'll hug Then she's going to pat him on the back and start helping him with your house remodel. Look! They're doing it!"

Exactly at that point, Jaime laughs as Jenny pushes him over, grabbing the paintbrush on her own and assisting him with the cream-colored outer walls. Jaime shakes his head in response, nudging her back.

"So what? I'm his sister, and what I can tell you is that they are NOT together. They're just really good friends!" Milagro explains, quieting down when Jaime looks over. "Come on, clear it up. I don't want to see my best friend so sad."

"I'm grieving," She pouts, lowering herself into the chair, "You don't see what I see. They are definitely together."

"Si no lo preguntas, nunca vas a saber," Another voice exclaims. Both girls turn their heads to her mother who shakes her head at them. "Don't be shy! I don't want my future daughter-in-law to lose her chance."

Feeling her face heat up, she looks away from the older woman's words. "I know he's your son, but I can't. I'm sorry."

Maybe if you weren't such a pussy, you would have gotten the guy. Does the K-dramas we watch together not mean anything?

The sudden voice caused her to jump straight into her seat. Narc had been quiet since she had arrive at the Reyes’ house hold. She hadn’t expected them to speak at all since he rarely did when she was at their residence. At first, it was off putting to never hear the familiar voice, but she slowly grew used to the silence.

Born out of wedlock from the original symbiote, Narc had been the symbiote who had begun their stay before she arrived in this Universe. They were the only connection she had to the life she once had. Or was it the other being stuck here as well? She wasn’t sure, she ignored all contact to the woman connected to her in more ways than one.

"K-Dramas are not real, idiot." She hissed under her breath.

"Did you say something, Mija?" Mrs. Reyes questions, resting her hand under the woman's chin. "You often talk to yourself, just like little Jaime."

"Mama!" Jaime calls out, "I'm not little anymore! Come on, don't tell her that!"

"You are little, cabrón. Don't you remember the incident? Naked con tus chiquito huevitos." His Uncle Rudy cackles, "Don't you remember that, ama?"

Their Nana shakes her head in response, smiling broadly at the memory. Milagro begins to laugh as well while Jenny sits beside the girls with a small nod in the direction of (Name). She returns the gesture, crossing her hands as she ignored how hard her heart hammered.

"I'm lost," (Name) murmurs, "So, so lost...But anyway, I have to head out. Thank you for having me!"

"Come by anytime, (Name)." Jaime grins, walking up to her and hugging the girl tightly, "Just remember to ignore anything they say about me, okay? Don't want them ruining anything."

"They're your family, I don't think they are capable of doing so," She pats his back, looking down at Milagro who fake kisses the air in front of her. Jenny seems to notice as she raises her eyebrows at the duo still hugging.

"You can let me go now, Jaime." (Name) murmurs into his ear, "Don't want her getting the wrong idea."

Jaime pulls away, smiling at the girl in front of him. His eyes flickered down for a second before he looked back at her, "Sorry?" She smiles sadly at him as she moves towards her vehicle. She refuses to look at the family behind her as she hears the conversation pick up again.

I think we should kill her.

"Absolutely not. There is a new hero here, Narc. We can't just murder a well-known figure and expect to get away with it." She groans, buckling her seat belt. She looks back at the family once more as she shifts her gear to drive.

We've done it once. And we can do it again.

"I don't think killing the Green Goblin counts for anything! He was already crazier than us, so the headlines were thanking us!" She exclaims.

His brain was nasty anyway.

⋆｡°✩

"Do you think Blue Beetle is cool?" Milagro asks, absentmindedly moving her straw around in boredom. "Personally, I think he's a huge nerd. What do you think?"

"Who says you can bother me on my shift?" (Name) frowns, cleaning the bar top in front of her, "And how did they let you in?"

"I have my ways," Milagro grins, "Answer my question. I need to know."

"I think he's...unique? From the news I have seen of him, it's obvious he is of Hispanic Descent. His suit is otherworldly, so I'm assuming it's some kind of alien tech he is using. Definitely not Superman, though." (Name) shrugs, moving the alcoholic beverages aside as she begins assisting the bartenders alongside her.

"Do you think he's cute under his mask?" Milagro leans closer, "Would you date him?"

I would eat him.

"I wouldn't eat him," (Name) responds instead. She pauses as the conversation around her began to quiet down. Some stared at her while others whispered to their compadres nearby.

"I...didn't ask that? I asked if you think he's cute and if you would date him. Dude, where the hell is your mind thinking right now?" Milagro whispers, eyeing the men nearby, "God, I’ve always hated this bar. A bunch of chismosos who are almost always cheating on their wives here. They're always eyeing you too. How do you handle that?"

"First, I can't tell if Blue Beetle is cute based on his voice. Second, I wouldn't date him since I am sooo hung up on your brother." Milagro snorts. "Lastly, this is the only bar that offers the minimum wage. I can handle drunk men well, I've always had."

The conversation began to pick up again as most began focusing on the news displayed in front of them. Blue Beetle was shown on live television, fighting off rogue soldiers from Victoria Kord's force. Despite the woman being long gone, the impact she made had not quite disappeared.

"I knew you were still into him! I say you ask him out! You ain't a homewrecker if he isn't in a relationship!"

"Didn't you say Kord and Jaime kissed? That your whole family cheered for the couple?"

"A fluke! It's a fluke I swear, but it is complicated! Just ask Jaime, please? It would be so cool for us to be family."

"If our lives are ever in danger at this very bar, then I'll ask." (Name) turns away from Milagro's eyes, "That means it will never ha-"

Her voice gets cut off when bullets begin hitting the bar's windows, causing the occupants to duck down to safety. Many of the drunken men tried to escape but most were quickly shot down by the bullets.

Milagro screams, ducking down into a crouch as the bullets continue. (Name) ignores the danger as she maneuvers her way through the destruction. She grabs Milagro, forcing the girl to look her in the eyes. "I need you to hide behind the bar, okay? The bullets won't get you. We will protect you.”

"W-who's we?" Milagro cries as (Name) pushes her behind the bar. There was silence for a moment as screams echoed in the bar. "(Name)? Where are you going?" She pushed Milagro down, moving her way from the bar corner as she looked at the bodies around her. Many men stayed below tables, looking at her in fear as she counted the people alive.

"Nobody get up. It’s not ove-" Her words get cut off when bullets pierce through her whole body. She is flung against the countertop as a bullet pierces too close to her heart. She hears her name being called out as Milagro tries to find her way to the woman.

She smiles at the tear-stained face in her vision. The fear in the other girl's eyes was evident as she continued to scream her name. At that moment, smoke bombs are thrown through the window. The screams had begun to mesh together, the fog covering the vision of the little who were still alive.

She feels the blood oozing out of her mouth, the familiar metallic filling up her mouth. She sputters, not being able to breathe.

It's your turn.

My turn.

Shoes stepping on glass were all everyone heard as the perpetrators stepped through the mess they caused. They held their gun up in return, moving through the fog stealthily. As they communicated with one another, they grew unnoticed by the thing they had angered.

"Find the Reyes girl. She is to be left alive." One spoke up, "Kill every survivor." The main soldier calls out. They await the confirmation of the others but they hear nothing. "I need an affirmative."

The soldier gets smacked in response, feeling themselves recoil from the weight against their body. When they look down at the unfamiliar weight, they begin to scream.

The weight crushing them was there comrade. Left unrecognizable with no head in sight. The blood wafts through their mask. They begin to gag as they try to pull the body off of them. They freeze up when a bloodied helmet rolls closer. Empty and dented, the helmet hits their shoe with a loud clank.

The fog begins to clear up, displaying the mess left behind. The soldier tensed when they noticed the bodies presented around the room. Many hung from the lights, their necks cracking from the added weight of their helmet. Others were hazardously thrown against tables. One had a table leg pierced through their helmet.

"Why must humans be so selfish? Is this fun for you, you pathetic piece of shit?" The soldier whimpers in response, turning their eyes away from the figure crouching in front of their face.

The creature, despite crouching, was still overlooking the only soldier left alive. The disarray and multi-color of the night sky reflected back to the onlookers who began to murmur about the new being. They tilt their head and leaned closer to the soldier, their bright, soulless eyes stared into the helmet. They licked the sharp smile forming from the fear they felt radiating off the soldier.

"Unlike the Blue Beetle, we do not care about the lives of our victims. What do you think happens next?"

"W-What the hell are you?"

"If you must know, my host has named us Narc. Will you beg for your life now?"

The Soldier rips their helmet off, looking at Narc with a look of fear, "Please. Please. I'm sorry. I'll never do this again, please!"

"He had once told us the same. You are just like the others. Pathetic. Unworthy. A perfect meal."

A scream is ripped through his victim's vocal cords as Narc bites down. Blood seeped through their mouth as they ripped out the spinal cord in one sharp turn. Narc stands, spitting their leftovers to the side.

"Hey, ugly!" A voice called out, "What the hell are you doing, man?"

Narc cranes their neck towards the entrance of the bar, watching as Blue Beetle floated at his place. They both stared at each other, unmoving.

"Blue Beetle!" A voice calls out, Milagro moving from her hiding spot to the blue-and-black-clad hero. "My friend is gone! She was just--where is she?" She turns her head towards Narc, who stares down at the shaking girl.

"Get away from it!" Blue Beetle yells, flying through the bar as he centers himself between Milagro and Narc. "Take it up with me and not the civilians!"

"He just--he ate all the soldiers--" Milagro gasps, stepping behind Blue Beetle, "I saw what he did--"

"You--What the hell are you?" Blue Beetle points his palms toward Narc, who continues to stare in silence.

"Does my figure scare you? I can hear your heartbeat." Narc cranes their head towards Milagro. Blue Beetle blocks her from their eyesight. “Worry not, we do not hurt the innocent.”

With those words, Narc feels their familiar bulking figure die down to their less impending figure. The duo are lost for words at the new figure presented in front of them.

"I'm so sorry I think I misgendered you--" Milagro's eyes stayed pinned to the pair of boobs Narc had.

"Where's (Name)?" Blue Beetle turns his head around, "Khaji-Da says she is still here! She was working, right?" His questions are to Milagro.

None of the three seemed to notice the survivors running out of the bar.

"She is here. With me." Narc hums, moving closer to Blue Beetle, "Is Khaji-Da your symbiote?"

"Symb--what? What do you mean (Name) is with you?"

"Jaime Reyes. You are a host are you not?"

"Stop avoiding my questions! Where is she?! How do you know my name--That is not my name! I do not know Jaime Reyes. Do you?"

"I have known of the scarab on your back since the beginning. Do not worry, (Name) remains clueless, for now."

"Why are you saying her name as if you know her?" Milagro questions.

Narc purrs, tilting their head closer to Blue Beetle who stepped back hesitantly. "We have known each other for a long time. We are bonded together until she dies. She is my key to survival in your world. She is me. I am her. We are one. We are Narc."

“Like Narcotics? Did she get you from a drug? She doesn’t seem like the type to do drugs.” Milagro questions, stepping closer to the duo, “And why are you so close? I can smell you from here!”

“We are host and symbiote. We am not from here, you see. Your alien won’t know of us.”

Milagro and Blue Beetle share a look, communicating with silent words. Blue Beetle lowers his hand, allowing Narc to step closer. The symbiote smiles, their purrs growing louder.

“I see why she likes you.”

With those words, Narc sinks into (Name)'s skin, leaving the woman defenseless from the eyes of her long-time crush and friend. She drops to the floor, her wounds patching over themselves with a familiar goo.

Blue Beetle drops to the floor, bringing (Name) close to his body. He rocks her back and forth as Milagro stumbles beside him. Her eyes were bloodshot and the tears that disappeared has formed all over again.

"Why didn't she tell us? Why didn't she tell me?" Blue Beetle, now Jaime who removed his helmet. He leans his forehead on the woman and murmurs into her hair. He kisses her temple as Milagro continues to cry.

"Why didn't she tell us her hero name is literally short for Narcotics?!"

⋆｡°✩

(Name) awakes to a horrible headache splintering her head. She groans as she shifts closer to the warmth of an unfamiliar body. She nuzzles in closer to the warmth, groaning at the light against her eyelids.

"Narc turn off the lights...I feel like I've just been shot." She moans, gripping her blanket tighter against her body, "I'm going out with Milagro later. I have to go buy cat food..."

"Milagro is taking care of Eddie, don't worry." A familiar voice whispers against her head, "Just go back to sleep. I'll block the sunlight."

"Thanks, Jaime..." Processing the name that came out, she jumps away from the warmth. She stares at Jaime, who stares back in equal shock and sleepiness. His hair was a mess, pointing in different directions. She presses her hand to her mouth, gasping behind it.

"Oh my god. We didn't have sex, did we? If so, that would be awkward because you are my best friend's brother and you literally have a girlfriend. I can't even get drunk so it's impossible for me to forget--oh my god am I in your house?"

"Hey, Hey," Jaime soothes her, smiling at the woman freaking out in his bed, "We didn't have sex and we were not drunk. You were...shot multiple times and some things came to light, but it's okay now, I promise."

"I'm still sleeping in your bed though! You could have left me, being shot doesn't stop me! We were holding each other?! What would Kord think if she saw this now?" She grips the unfamiliar sweater covering her body, feeling her legs shift through from under the sheets and hit against Jaime's.

"Jenny? What about Jenny? We aren't...We aren't dating if that's what you're worried about." Jaime grabbed her by the face, locking eyes with her who looked anywhere but him. "I can't just leave you when you were hurt."

"Milagro said you two kissed."

"We did once have feelings for each other. But it's long gone now, it was just a...heat of a moment kind of thing." Jaime brings her cheeks towards his chest, which she just noticed had nothing covering him from her eyes. Her hands stopped short on his stomach. She felt his stomach flutter in response.

"Besides, I like someone else. I like you."

She feels her heart stop at his confession.

Knew it.

"No shit." She exclaims, looking up at Jaime who smiles down at her doe-like look.

"I do." He whispers back. They both stared at one another until he leaned closer to her face. She felt his breath fan her face as she wrinkled her nose.

"You stink." She snorts, moving her hands to the back of his neck. He laughs at her words.

"Yours smells much worse. Now, come here--" She cuts him off, smashing her lips to his. He holds her waist, bringing her to sit on his lap. Her tongue finds his, leaning closer as her hand moves to stay on his chest. Biting his lip, she softly sucks it lightly. She opens her eyes to find his eyes half-lidded, enjoying the moment.

When she pulls away, her lips find his neck, kissing down to his collarbone. Pulling her hand back to his neck, she inhales his scent.

"Couldn't have waited until I was asleep. You are always like this. The same exact way with Peter Parker."

They both jump at the new voice, turning their heads towards Narc who floated their head around the room, reading the boxes that held different items. She turns her head to Jaime, eyes wide, waiting for him to begin screaming.

"Narc-uh. They explained more about your origins with each other. After finding them standing in a bloodbath, Milagro and I thought the worst had happened but someone--something told me to let Narc explain."

"They told you about our.... situationship?" She questions, gripping onto Jaime's bicep. "You're supposed to be running away--not making out with me!"

"And you! You aren't supposed to be out. You're grounded!" She growls, pulling Jaime's face into the crook of her neck, "You told him everything, huh? Why can't you ever keep secrets? She'll be angry our cover was blown!"

She ignored the look Narc gives, opting to continue her rant, “Asshole, is it because I’m not letting you meet Red Robin? You know it isn’t allowed!”

"The other youngling saw you get shot. Was I supposed to act as if I ate you instead?"

"Actually, yes! Nobody is supposed to know, you promised. We promised Eddie."

"You made a promise to your cat?" Jaime's muffled voice questions. Despite the situation, he bites her neck. "Who is Peter Parker?"

She glares at Narc, who innocently whistles. "No one Jaime, he is no one."

"Former boy toy." Narc responds instead, "Hell of an amateur kisser."

"You kissed him! Not me!" She turns to Jaime, pulling his head back to stare at him, "I'm so sorry, I don't know why they're acting this way. I'll go right now, seriously. I don't want you in our mess."

"Relax," Jaime comforts, grabbing her hand that stayed on his cheek. He smiles at her, "I can protect myself. Look--"

She felt him shift from under her, watching in shock as his body began to be covered by a familiar suit she had seen countlessly on television. Everything except his face was covered in armor. Whilst she analyzed the markings on his suit, Narc moved closer as well.

"Does your scarab only speak to you?" Narc asks, "It is unlike anything I have seen on my planet. Do you feed them as well?"

"They aren't really fed? They don't need sustenance. Khaji-Da only talks to me in my head so they're like a second voice...and planet?"

"This is going to be a long talk," She sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly, "At least you don't have to feed them human brains..."

"What?" Jaime recoils, looking at the two with wide eyes, "I'm sorry? Brains? Like Zombies? The Walking Dead? Like zombies from The Last of Us?!"

"I thought you told him everything!"

"I would never tell of my eating habits! Humans are judgemental!"

[zzencat]

Why Am I So Hard On Myself? - Timeless ⏳

Breathe and choose. Left to right.

Kinda doing this one on a whim but figured it could help anyone who needs to be heard and have their doubts or feelings validated. You’re not alone. Does it say anything else about you?

TO ENHANCE ACCURACY BEFORE CHOOSING: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

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Pile 1 | “no matter how hard i try…”

somehow, something always goes wrong. you always try to salvage what you can, picking up the pieces and trying to make the most of the situation, but maybe the timing is shit, or it isn’t met up to standard. plans ruined, connections gone, opportunities lost. even when all you do is try and try. you might even think “why is this even happening? im only breathing”

small note: while shuffling, it was going pretty nicely then cards started flying out of my hands like fliers on a windy day. it’s a small thing, but to me, it has to do with having constant roadblocks and inconveniences, and that maybe you feel like you’re at your last straw sometimes

you want to be seen for your efforts. at least some acknowledgment that someone knows, sees, and understands that you’re trying. someone to hear you out for once and take you seriously, even if none of what you’d done or contributed has worked before. just acknowledgment would be enough. maybe you’re the only one who recognizes your efforts.

i think you struggle with maintaining career, friendships, or really anything, in general. the foundations laid out might’ve been risky or unstable to begin with so you could question why things don’t last for you. a part of you expects the heartbreak to happen.

it’s crazy bc in this pile, there’s so much…optimism and hope (that might be dying out or feels like it has already) that one day something will work out

your heart isn’t completely closed and you’ll still have it open to accept things, even when you think it shouldn’t. this is what makes you a stronger person. it opens a wide range of doors for you, whether you know it or not. don’t give up.

———————————————————————————————————————

Pile 2 | “look out!”

you’re so used to prioritizing others and putting yourself last. bc of this, you could’ve missed out on many things and lost opportunities

you have a big heart and hella good energy — an abundance of it — but for some reason, it’s rarely spent on yourself

you feel like it’s your responsibility, all of it — to run or lead things, as if it’s all in your hands. to take over when things are about to fall apart. who made it your responsibility to carry the burdens of others? what happens then if they don’t reciprocate or return the same generosity?

all of this energy is being redirected to the wrong places when you should be thinking about yourself too. how can you help others when you can’t even help yourself? how about your own dreams and goals? you’re human too, so you need the care and support as well. your energy doesn’t just grow on trees. put yourself high on your own list. make yourself a priority for once. book a spa day and have someone else take over for the day.

——————————————————————————————————-

Pile 3 | *whistling*

for this pile, it seems to be more family related, where your pursuits, outlooks, or the way you treat yourself is how you were treated growing up. there’s some connection to pile 2 as well, so there could be some messages in pile 2 for you if it caught your eye

parent(s)/caretakers put a lot of pressure on you with crazy expectations or nitpicking, sometimes maybe even emotional manipulation like guilt tripping

there’s a need to take more charge in your life, especially in the creative and emotional corners of it, and also to create more meaningful and deep connections

some people in this pile might be easily defensive as well too. in this lifetime, you’re gonna learn to put your guard down, bc perhaps you’d grown up feeling trapped and forced into a mold you didn’t belong in

you could struggle with emotional commitment or generally sticking to one thing. there are probably too many things you wanna do or end up trying at least once. relationships might not last too long. there could even be a subconscious fear that you won’t be able to meet someone else’s emotional needs or standards.

you’re very spontaneous and prob get bored easily. also prob struggled academically (ex: having a hard time understand in subjects, sticking to one thing/constantly changing interests or majors, feeling trapped, giving up)

you’re lowkey a perfectionist. perhaps you’re never satisfied bc you grew up with that kind of dissatisfaction on yourself, likely by adults or maybe just things you’d picked up from adolescence

at some point, you might reflect back and feel disappointed in yourself, even if you’d just had the time of your life. it seems like this pile indulges in more superficial activities/substances to fill in the void in that chest

—————————————————————————

ending teddy note: hey guys! been a while but here’s a pac for ya!! i think this is a great pac if you don’t have someone to acknowledge the potential issues going on in your life. thank you for taking the time to read this and i really hope you enjoy it! rmr to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. ciao!! :P

i would appreciate the feedback! lemme know what you got or think in the comments or reblogs 🦾

- The Tedster

[thecameronchronicles]

Homecoming

TW: sex. Dirty talk. Sex without a condom. Oral sex. Penetrative sex.

SUMMARY: Home from jail, you show JJ just how much you've missed him...

Homecoming

"Princess..." Of all the times the nomenclature is on your behalf, this had been the kost meaningful. Not because it was after the first "I love you" or by some grand declaration. Specifically because he was home.

After two years in prison, JJ Maybank was home. And instead of coming to The Wreck to celebrate with Kie, or fishing with the boys, JJ came straight to you.

Your feet sprinted towards him as he braced to catch you. He buried his smile into your neck as you wrapped yourself around him arms, legs, hands, and heart. Your lips were a frenzy to all available skin until finally meeting his.

"Baby, maybe we should go inside?" He teased before carrying you across the threshold of your house. The door wasn't even closed before you tried to remove his shirt. It was easy to do with the arms already cut off and the sides mutilated until it barely covered him, exposing his skin a few shades more pale from his lack of sun.

"And here I was wanting to talk..." He taunts before being pushed onto the couch. His smirk falls once you straddle him, disposing of your own shirt and leaving your naked breasts no longer supported by your tube top.

"Talk?"

"Two very good points have just been brought to my attention..." He smirks before leading your breast into his hand and up to his mouth. Where you expected him to be hungry for the taste of you, he savors.

"J...please..."

"Sweetheart, I've had to wait a long ass time to get my hands on you, I'm taking my damn time." He kisses you tenderly, rolling your pebbled nipples between his teeth, until finally sucking on the sensitive peaks.

"Ohhhhh...." You drawl in a moan as his hands grip you hard enough to threaten to leave bruises.

"I want you to-" he begins to demand but you can tell by his tone it will be sweet. You want heated, rough, and immediate relief you've been waiting for as even his most dirty words in sultry letters do nothing but fall unsatisfactory compared to him. To make this clear, you're on your knees in front of him as his tender blue eyes widen.

"You don't have to..."

"Do you want me to?"

"I feel like I should say no and be all of morals here..."

"JJ...it's been so long..." You run your hands up his thighs onto the belt holding up his khakis against gravity. He swallows hard before adjusting his hips so you can expose him.

That thick cock you've dreamed of sliding between your legs is now the reason you're biting your bottom lip.

"Tell me, J..." You offer as the chivalry behind his eyes sheds to concentrated lust.

"Put me in your mouth, princess..." You wrap a delicate hand around his thick shaft, running your thumb across his head as he jerks.

"Fuck, I forgot how good you are at this. Maybe you should just get on top of me before I embarrass myself and come-" By the time his rant begins to meet your ears, he's against your tongue. His words melt away and is replaced in groans as his fingers grip at the fabric of the well-used couch.

"Y/N-" He warns as you commit to him as your entire body takes part in the oral sex. Your cheeks hollow and your hands twist around him, both needed for his size, as your chest heaves as you take him.

Despite the way your knees begin to ache along with your jaw, neither falter as you take him deeper and deeper. Tears fall and spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth as you breathe through your nose and endure him.

"Jesus Christ!" He gasps, his ringed fingers tangling in your hair as he works to slow you as his hips fight him to thrust.

"I'm not coming in your mouth, sweetheart. I've been dreaming of your sweet pussy too many nights-"

"Then stop me..." You speak once giving yourself mercy for breath. He takes you up under your arms before you can convince him to let you finish, you are straddling him.

It lasts only a second before you're taken over the arm of the couch. He pulls your shorts down and swears, his fingers snapping the fabric of your panties.

"Shiiiiiit...." He moans before breathing them in.

"JJ!"

"You're so sweet baby...I've fucking missed this." He leaves a playful bite agaisnt your round ass, making you moan to the primal necessity that was your boyfriend.

He slaps the place he marked before you hear him dispose of his pants until they hit the floor. He levels behind you.

"Slow or fast princess?" He asks while gently pulling your hair back over one shoulder and to the other so he can kiss the newly exposed skin.

"Fuck me JJ."

"Then hold on baby, I'm taking what I've been missing." He spits on his cock and spreads your ass to moan at his destination.

"You're so wet...I can imagine how badly you've needed me and I wasn't here....but you were good and sent me all those panties didn't you? You know just what I need princess, so beg for it."

"Please JJ...please fuck me..." You grip the arm of the couch as he pulls your hips closer to him. His warm cock up between your thighs.

"I hope you got a lot of sleep, princess, because you won't after tonight." You gasp at the width of him pushing into you. No matter the preparation, foreplay, or tenderness, it still takes you time to adjust to him. Not only in width but the intimacy behind it. His touch is careful and his words, although dirty, are always with your comfort in mind. But the snap of his hips as he buries himself inside proves ad a reminder of his need for you.

"Oh God!" His head falls back as his toned chest tenses to the feel of him bottoming out inside. He squeezes the flesh of your ass as he watches himself disappear between your thighs, just as he's dreamed since his arrest.

"JJ!"

"That's it, princess, scream my name just like that, beautiful girl. Come on, I know you can be louder than that-" He takes hold of the curve of the couch nearby your head and pounds against you. His depth and speed are precise for your pleasure as he was devoted to learn.

"That's it. That's my fucking girl...ohhh yeah..." The sound of skin-to-skin is raw and passionate, dominant orders interrupt the erotica of it until he begins groaning into your shoulder. With a pull of your hair, you're up against his chest.

"You're gonna come with me." He manages to explain through his slow thrusts. "I'm gonna count...oh fuck..." He is moaning, struggling to compose himself, let alone you. One of his hands plays with your breast as the other lowers to your clit.

"Fuck, you're clenching already, baby. Ahh, I haven't even started counting yet!" He chuckles.

"Better start then." He kisses you quiet before beginning.

"Ten-"

"Ten?"

"You're right...three..." You smirk as the brutality of his focus worsens. You'll be sore and bruised and yet you crave to feel him unleash inside.

"Two...."

"One!"You both cry out together.

His body trembles as he coats between your thighs, twitching within as he spurts until you're full. As you bask in the fulfillment, he withdraws and immediately you ridicule him.

"Stay inside..." You moan.

"I'm taking you in the shower. Then taking you to bed. Our bed. I told you, you aren't getting any sleep, I meant it." He kisses you sweetly before carrying you as he promised.

Once beneath the water, his hands are eager to be a part of you but not necessarily lustful. He's caring, using your favorite body wash to create a lather and generously applying it until you're not much more than suds and awe of him.

"Promise me you won't leave me again, JJ..."

"I promise, princess." He kisses your forehead and pulls you against him and as much as you want to believe his words, you can't help feel in the deepest roots of your intuition that he'll get in trouble again. Still, you'll love and wait for him.

Just like you've done the last three times...

MASTERLIST

[dira333]

Soul-Food - Osamu x Reader

Enemies to lovers - Requested by @notsochillnerd - with Atsumu as a terrible wingman who just wanted to check out his brothers' nemesis...

There is only one thing more annoying than Miya Osamu with his cooking talent, excellent marks, and unfairly good looks: his twin brother Atsumu.

“No.” You say again, arms filled with produce. He’s in your way and he’s not even sorry about it.

“Come oooon!” He whines, draping himself over the railing of the stairs as if this is a photoshoot for some perfume. “I’m so hungry! And Osamu won’t cook for me! I’ll even pay you!”

“Wow, now I want to do it even less, knowing you might not have paid me in the first place.” You snark, patience wearing thin.

“Now get out of my way, I need to get to my room.”

“To do what?” He steps to the side, but his face remains close to yours. You’re not the fastest as it is, even less when carrying that many vegetables. 

“I need to cook.”

“Perfect.” His grin is so wide, it could split his face. “You cook, I’ll eat.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

You hesitate, if only for a second. But Atsumu is like a shark and that was the single drop of blood that he needed.

Half an hour later he’s sitting at the little table in your apartment. 

Your kitchen isn’t spacious, but equipped with everything you could possibly need - there’s a reason this school costs an arm and a leg each year. And Miya Osamu got the scholarship instead of you.

You wouldn’t have any problem with it if not for your father breathing down your neck. He’s got the money to send you here twice if he wanted to, but in his twisted mind, a 100% is barely a passing grade and you should have been able to win the scholarship, monetary status be damned.

“What are you making?” Atsumu asks from behind you.

“Udon.”

“Why is it black?” 

“I’m using Sepia.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” You snap back, hoping against hope that he will fall quiet. He doesn’t. 

-

You’ve spent almost a year in a class with Osamu.

He might not always get a better mark than you, but he quickly figured out how much you hated it when he did. There’s nothing worse than someone else gloating over your loss.

The teachers love him and tolerate you. 

So far they’ve been kind enough not to put the two of you into a group project, or maybe they just played it safe. The sheer bloodlust you feel when he grins in your direction must have tipped them off.

But this year is going to end soon and your teachers expect you to come up with a dish. Your own creation, not unlike the dish you had to make for your entry exam. This time, however, it’s supposed to showcase what you want to do, going forward.

You can’t bring the same thing you made for your entry exam, even though it was perfect and a delight - you made it roughly one hundred times before. 

Your father has always been a fan of the Kaiseki Ryori and while you had loved taking part in the Haute Cuisine as a child, feeling grown up as you nibbled on tiny bites of expensive food, it has lost its appeal on you.

After all, there’s a set number of times you can eat a meal, even Chawanmushi, before you get sick of it.

“Hello? Are you still listening?” Nuisance number 2 asks behind you and you flinch, staring down at the dough that you kneaded for too long. 

“What’s Osamu doing for his exam?” You ask, feeling a little guilty about your attempt at spying.

“Why do you want to know?”

Nevermind. Now you only feel annoyed.

“Just because. Maybe I want to talk about something other than you.”

You move to throw the dough out, only to be stopped by Atsumu’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“I messed it up. It’s not going to taste good.”

“So what? I’m hungry.”

“You want to eat gross noodles?” You eye him warily, but he shrugs with a grin.

“It’s definitely going to be better than what I’d produce myself. But since I hate cooking, I’d probably just get takeout pizza anyway.”

“Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Yeah?”

“And they let you eat Pizza?”

“They don’t know. Or they don’t care. Whatever you like better. I mean, they gave me a list of stuff I should keep away from but that’s like, all the food I usually consume.”

“Here.” You pull out a pen and paper. “Write down what you eat in a day. Snacks included. And drinks.”

“Why?”

“If I have to endure your chatting, you might as well get something out of this. Now, shoo!”

You turn, lid of your composter already open when his voice reaches you.

“DON’T THROW AWAY THE DOUGH!”

“Fine!” You snap. “You can eat your disgusting noodles!”

They don’t taste that awful in the end, not with your delicate sauce with mussels and steamed broccoli that turned out so good Atsumu licks his plate clean.

-

You’d been part of the track club in Middle School, switched to Volleyball in High School because they had fewer practice hours per week. Your marks had always been more important than any side activities, your future as a part of Haute Cuisine decided before you could walk. But it had been fun, especially when Coach gathered you after practice to talk about the importance of self-care. How certain foods could make or break you. How important salt and minerals were for your body, how food was more than calories, protein, carbs, and fat.

You’re not even a little bit rusty when you scribble down a meal plan for him. You keep it easy and as cheap as possible, light on the cooking because you figured he must be the opposite of his twin in the kitchen if he came begging for food… You’re not sure if you’re buying his excuse of a brotherly fight, but you’re not ashamed to say that you didn’t mind him praising your food over Osamu’s. Suck that, Miya!

Meanwhile, Atsumu’s brows are pulled so high, they’re hiding behind his bangs.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Your new meal plan. You follow that, you’ll increase your stamina.”

“But it’s so much work.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“Whatever.” You get up, throw the pen down at the table. Your patience has never been the best anyway.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He follows you to the sink but not to help with the dishes.

“You could cook for me.” He offers it like it’s a great deal. You snort.

“I bet there’s something you want. Something I could do for you…” He wiggles his brows now, looks disgustingly like Osamu when he got a better mark then you. And that kickstarts your brain.

“I want Osamu… I mean the recipe…You know, what Osamu made to get the scholarship. If you can get me that dish of him to try, I’ll cook for you.”

Atsumu grins in a way that doesn’t feel good but he nods.

“Alright, it’s a deal. You’ll cook for me and I get you the dish.” He holds out his hand to sign the deal but you’ve been the daughter of a cutthroat banker for too long to fall for that.

“I’ll cook for a week.” You tell him firmly and watch with a sick satisfaction as his face contorts. He looks awful when he’s pissed and there are definitely not enough moments of the Miya twins looking awful.

“Two weeks.

“One week, only dinner.”

“One week, lunch, dinner and snacks.”

“Are you insane?”

“Do you want Osamu’s food?”

There’s a moment of Silence, and you’re eyeing each other, calculating who’s bluffing and who’s not.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because you feel it in your bones that trying that damned dish will get you a step closer to figuring out what you need to present for your Final.

-

You feel like a drug addict, going down the deep end, when Atsumu appears at your door one week later, carrying a Bento-Box wrapped in the cutest fabric you have ever seen.

“Are those little foxes?” You ask, eyeing the reddish-tinted animals on the grey fabric.

“What if ?” He asks back, nose up in the air.

“Jeez, I was just curious.” You snap back and muster him. He doesn’t look malnourished.

“What did you eat this week?”

“Why do you ask?” He sets the Bento-Box on your table and saunters into your kitchen, peering into the still empty pots and pans.

“You’re an awful liar.”

“Okay, so I told Samu that you cooked for me.” He throws his hands up in the air like you’re the one making a big fuss about things. “Told him it was fingerlickin’ good. Got him all angry and puffy.”

You are not ashamed to say that comment lifts you off your feet just a little bit. Hah!

“So?” You ask cooly, untying the Furoshiki with eager fingers.

“So he insisted that he would cook for me. Everything went according to plan, I pretended it wasn’t as good as your food until I asked for the dish he made for his entry exams.”

“Did you know what it was?” You ask as you lift the lid of the box.

“Maybe.” He says and you can hear in his voice that he knew. He probably didn’t tell you just to experience this.

“He made Onigiri?” You ask, your voice a little shrill.

You had made Chawanmushi, a dish literally to die for, practiced one hundred times, and he beat you with Onigiri?

“Try it.” He reaches for one of the Onigiri in the box and you slap his hand away.

“Mine!” You hiss angrily and his grin is almost feral.

“I’ll take a walk around the block then.” He jokes, moving toward the door. “Leave you alone with it.”

“Leave.” You wave him off. “I’ll make dinner later.”

“Half an hour.”

“Leave!” You huff and the door clicks shut behind him.

-

You bite into the first Onigiri and time stops for a second. 

The rice is cooked to perfection, but you know the different varieties well. He must have splurged on this kind, bought from a boutique farmer of some sorts. 

It’s filled with tuna and spring onion, but it tastes different then all the Tuna Onigiri you’ve had before. You write down all the different things you can taste, compare them to the knowledge you have but still - did he use a spice you don’t know? A combination you’re not familiar with?

The taste lingers, but you cannot put your finger on it. You feel a little weepy too, as if you had just watched your favorite movie from when you were a kid. You sniff and take the other Onigiri, bite into almost cautiously. It’s Tenmusu, your favorite kind of Onigiri.

This time, literal tears run down your cheeks. The shrimp is crisp, the sweet sauce calling you back to childhood, reminding you of the few free afternoons you got to spend with your mother, just the two of you, no work allowed. You only remember to write down the taste and ingredients when the last bite has disappeared and your hands leave the paper stained. 

Well… You’re no closer to figuring out what to make for your finals, but you might be getting your period soon. Why else would you be moved to tears by food?

-

“Onigiri, huh?” You ask Osamu after class the next day. You can’t help yourself.

He looks up from his phone, surprise on his face. It’s ridiculous how good that makes him look.

“What about it?”

“I heard you made Onigiri for your Entry Exam.”

“Ah, yes.” He smiles, the kind of smile that makes you want to slap it off his face. “Tsumu told me he made you try it.”

You can feel your face go slack. WHAT?

“What did you think?” Osamu asks, way too confident for your taste. “Did you like them?”

You can’t decide between a huff and a snort and the sound that does come out reminds you more of a dying walruss.

“They were probably pitying you.” You point out, nose in the air. “I showed up with Kaiseki Ryori. I made Chawanmushi.”

“Ah.” Osamu sounds like he’s not sure what that is. But you’ve gone over that in class, he’s just messing with you.

“Well, when do I get to try it?” 

You blink. “What?” 

“Yeah, it’s only fair, right? After you tried mine.”

You swallow thickly, look around for some help, but you’re the only one’s still in the hallway.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because he does have a point. “As long as I don’t have to eat it.”

His brows furrow and your mind unhelpfully supplies you with the information that his eyes are a different shade than Atsumu’s. Osamu’s eyes are almost as grey as his hair, reminding you of the sky outside. 

His mouth moves and you blink, try to focus on his voice, but fail. Your collar feels too tight around your neck and you pull at it, too aware of Osamu’s eyes that flicker to your neck and stay there. God, what’s going on?”

“What did you say?” You ask in the most snooty voice you can manage. “I wasn’t listening.”

“Why do you cook something you don’t like?” He asks. “Don’t you enjoy cooking?”

Something snaps inside you like a rubberband that has been pulled taut for too long.

“Why do you care?” You sniff and he rolls his eyes. 

“I was just asking.”

“Sure you were. But you’re psychological warfare doesn’t work on me! You can flutter your long eyelashes at someone else!”

Osamu laughs. “I wasn’t-”

“Neither was I. Well, are you coming or not?”

“Where?” 

“You wanted to try my Chawanmushi!”

“Gesundheit.” You turn, not the least bit surprised to see Atsumu standing there. It’s lunchtime for him, he’s coming to collect his goods. “Or was that a codeword for something naughty?”

“Oh god, you’re awful.” 

-

You know that the Chawanmushi has turned out as perfect as all the other times. You can tell by sight and smell, but you cannot bring yourself to try it.

The thought of it has you swallow back bile but you serve it to the brothers with the biggest smile you can manage.

“Here.” You present it in tiny, elegant bowls.

“Are you in pain?” Osamu asks and you drop the smile.

“Go f-” 

“Why is it so tiny?” Atsumu asks, eyeing the bowl skeptically. “I’m hungry.”

“I made you Curry.” You tell him off. “This is just a tasting. You can’t eat full bowls with Kaiseki Ryori, you’d never manage that amount of food.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Atsumu digs in, spoon clinking loudly against the bowl to the point you fear for its life.

He’s done with it before Osamu has even tasted his, still smelling the dish carefully, pulling the spoon through as if to check for clumps.

“It was fine.” Atsumu gives his mark as one would comment on an order of KFC. “Now, the Curry?” 

You huff but don’t get up, eyes still trained on Osamu. Then, finally, he brings the spoon to his mouth. If you’re focusing a little too much on his full lips, that’s entirely because he’s the world's slowest eater at the moment and nothing else.

His face remains passive. 

Cold sweat runs down your back as he slowly but surely finishes the dish and nods appraisingly.

“It was good.” Osamu says calmly. “The Curry?”

Breathing is a little hard at the moment, but you manage to get up, collect the bowls - you don’t throw them at the floor in a fit of rage and you’re very proud of yourself for that - and get them safely to the kitchen sink.

Your hands shake a little as you serve the Curry in three different plates, but if the boys notice, they don’t comment on it. 

“I hope you like it.” Your voice is back to normal, your wounded heart tucked safely back into your chest. “It’s packed with protein and healthy vegetables to make sure you have all the necessary nutrients. You could eat this every day and wouldn’t have to worry about losing out on anything.”

Atsumu digs in without another word. He beams around the spoon, curses loudly.

“This is so good.” He says, mouth full.

“Pig.” Osamu announces next to him, puts the first spoon into his mouth and-

You can see it, in the widening of his eyes and the light blush that appears on the height of his unfairly sharp cheekbones. He likes it. He likes it very much.

You should probably feel a bit more upset about the fact that they insult your Chawanmushi but get high on your Curry, but then again, it just feels good to watch Osamu have the same reaction to your Curry that you had with his Onigiri.

“You should make this for the Exam.” Osamu points out in between a groan and another spoonful of Curry. “It’s amazing.”

“No!” Atsumu shakes his head, still speaks with his mouth full. “The Udon you made yesterday. That was crazy good.”

“What Udon?” Osamu’s voice has a tint to it you cannot place. Does he know about the Onigiri you tried but not about the deal itself? Is he jealous he didn’t get to try them?

“Okay, so she makes the Noodles herself, right? This time without the freaky black stuff-”

“Sepia,” you throw in but he ignores you, “But she used pork belly for the sauce and something creamy and mushrooms, I think-”

“Shiitake.” 

“And I tell you, Samu, it was so so good! Like, it reminded me of Mom making that stew, you know? When Dad had that big sale thing and we got to celebrate it?”

Osamu’s eyes light up in a way that has you looking down at your food, heart thrumming in your chest like a hummingbird on speed.

“Can you-” He hesitates for a second. “Can you make me that?”

“I could.” You point out, not at all feeling the upper hand. You feel nervous instead as if this is a test or something worse. You swallow thickly, try to think of something to wager against it. Your mind is unhelpful at best, offering the possibility of a date - as if! 

“If I get your recipe. For the Onigiri.”

Osamu’s mouth clicks shut. He blinks, clearly surprised. Then he grins, the kind of grin that tells you this isn’t going to work in your favor, at all.

“Sure. So, Udon tomorrow?”

“I was going to make Katsudon tomorrow.” You point out, pissed that he’s overthrowing your meal plan. Atsumu looks like he’s gotten a glimpse of heaven.

“Really?”

-

You hate to think about it, but the week is nearing its end and Osamu feels less like the devil and more like the dangerously cute boy from your class now. The dangerously cute boy who’s going to get a better mark than you, take the promised internship at one of Japan's leading five-star restaurants and laugh in your face if you don’t shape up right now.

Your father is as helpful as ever.

He’s currently obsessed with the Yakimono part of Kaiseki Ryori, taking you out to dinner each weekend only to try new variants that you should use for your Final Exam.

The food is good, there’s no denying that, but it lacks the emotional touch you had with the Onigiri.

The same Onigiri that you’ve made three times already. They never taste like Osamu’s.

You’re suspecting that he skipped on one ingredient in the recipe, the one thing you could not put your finger on when you tried them. 

“Hey.” Atsumu’s waiting at your door when you return from coffee with your mother. She had been even less helpful, talking about the new dessert dish she was creating. You might have gotten her cooking skills, but you hate baking almost as much as Chawanmushi.

“I thought we said we would skip the cooking over the weekend.” 

“Yeah, about that.” He lifts a heavy bag. “I wanted to ask for a favor.”

“I’m not setting for you.”

“Why would I- Never mind, I wanted to ask… Could you like, show me… how to cook?”

You blink in surprise.

“Why would I teach you that? Don’t you have your brother?”

“He’s not a good teacher.” Atsumu points out and you snort.

“So you want to learn how to cook? And stop harassing me and Osamu?”

“No, no, I will still harass the two of you for food, but it looked easy when you did it, so I thought you could teach me, maybe?”

“Fine.” 

“I’m even pa- Fine? Oh, wow, that was easy.”

“If I can ask you some questions in turn without you judging me?”

“Me, judging someone? Never.” He puts a hand on his chest, probably aiming for his heart, but he’s now swearing on his left ribcage.

-

You watch like a Hawk as Atsumu prepares the Omurice. He’s got a bad habit of getting distracted, but he’s not a bad student.

“So…” You swallow your nerves. “You and Osamu used to play Volleyball together, right?”

“Yeah. He could have gone Pro, like me. But he said…” He raises his hands to make air quotes and lowers his voice into a deeper pitch to mock Osamu, “Skillswise I'm just as good as you. But I think that, when all's said and done, you love volleyball just a teensy bit more than me.”

“And you were okay with that?” 

“Nah.” Atsumu flips the Omurice onto a plate and hands it over to you. “Try.”

“It’s good.” You hand it back to him. “Eat.”

-

When Atsumu leaves, you’re left with even more questions than before.

What does it mean to love something so much you’re willing to pass up something good?

Atsumu is making good money as a Pro, even now. But Osamu had no idea if he was going to make it into this school until he tried.

And why did he make freaking Onigiri?

Midnight has come and gone when you put a jacket over your sleepshirt and slip out of your apartment in nothing but booty shorts and bunny slippers.

You’re not sure if there’s a nightguard. There might be, this is still a mixed dorm filled with hormonal teens and tweens. 

Even though you’ve never been to Osamu’s place before, you know the route by heart. You had memorized it in a childish fit when you realized his room was just below the fire escape.

You wouldn’t allow him to survive you in case of an emergency.

You knock twice before you can hear movement. The door opens and you almost swallow your tongue.

His hair is in disarray as if he’d dragged his hands through it all night and there’s the imprint of his pillow left on his cheek. He’s topless and you keep your eyes trained on the imprint on his cheek as if you don’t notice his happy trail or his still well-trained abs. 

He blinks slowly and yawns.

“What’s up?” He asks. Something moves over his face, quick like a sparrow. “Shit, are you hurt? Did something happen?!”

“No, no, I… Shit, I don’t know, I-”

“Come in.” He pulls you inside, but he calculates wrong, uses too much force for your quivering body. You end up mushed against his chest, face plant right into the warm skin.

If you die like this, you won’t even be mad about it.

“Shit, sorry.” He grabs you and puts you at a distance again, blush high on his cheeks. 

“Your Onigiri.” You start, before he can realize that you’re flustered too. “You didn’t list all the ingredients.”

“I did.”

“Did not. They don’t taste the same.”

“Ah.” He makes that insufferable sound like he knows everything you don’t. 

You want to poke his abs, but you decide against it, mainly because it would make you look weird. But they do look ni-

“Tea?” He asks and you hold your right hand with your left, just in case it turns sentient. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Your Onigiri don’t taste like mine, because I make them for someone.”

“What?”

“The Tuna one.” He looks at the kettle instead of you, but his voice is wistful, distant. “I always make that one for Tsumu.”

“And the Tenmusu?”

“It’s my Mom’s favorite.” He says softly and you can’t help it, but you start to cry.

“Your Mom likes Tenmusu too?”

“Ah, shit, don’t tell me- Wait, here, take this…” He hands you a tissue to blow your nose and dry your tears. 

“So you’re saying your secret ingredient is love? You’re really going to stand there and make me believe that you got the scholarship because you put love in your food?”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to believe me. But there’s a reason your Chawanmushi did not taste as good as your Curry.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Gladly.” He smirks at you and this time your hand is faster than your mind, pointer finger digging into the firm muscle of his right pectoral.

“Don’t mess with me.”

“Why not?” His face moves closer to you, or did you move closer to his? “Isn’t it fun?”

Whoever moved first doesn’t matter now as his breath washes over you. His eyes skip to your lips and you lick them, no thoughts left in your brain.

Behind him, the kettle whistles, signaling that the water’s cooking, but neither of you moves. 

This could end very badly, or very great, however you want to look at it. 

Your mind, helpful as ever, comes up with a sentence that just slips out of your mouth unprompted.

“Atsumu said that you loved Volleyball a little-”

He draws back the moment he hears you speak, face now closed like a window that has let down its shutters. 

“Right, Atsumu.” He says, interrupting you. “You should get back to the bed.”

“But the tea…”

“I forgot.” He takes the kettle off the stove. “I was going to make a hot water bottle for myself. Sorry.” 

-

Somehow, somewhere, you took a wrong turn.

Maybe it was when you started liking Osamu, in this weird way that has you enjoy the bickering and the competitiveness. Maybe it was even before that, when you let Atsumu get away with his needling, fed him Udon instead of throwing him out.

Or maybe it was even before that, when you didn’t put up a fight everytime your father decided for you, when your mother put work before spending time with you. 

It’s a good thing that Finals are right around the corner.

You can’t focus in most classes, left staring holes into Osamu’s back. 

Atsumu’s stopped showing up himself, probably now a master in cooking for himself. Or he’s gone back to Osamu, to fantastic Onigiri and whatever else he knows how to make.

-

Four days before the Final, someone bangs on your door.

“Jeez, I’m coming.” You pull the door open to reveal Atsumu, soaked and clearly pissed..

“You okay?” You ask. “Or do you need a towel?”

“Why are you not a couple?” He asks back. “Like, the tension was there, you were practically undressing each other at the table - in front of me, might I add - and yet you’re not even speaking to each other? I even cooked all my meals these past weeks in the hopes of hearing good news but Samu’s acting like a bug crawled up his ass and died.”

“What are you even talking abou-”

“Oh, don’t fool me.” He steps inside and moves toward your bathroom without asking. “I just ran here because all I get from Samu are cryptic messages. Did you say something?”

“No, I-”

“Spill.” Atsumu points at the kitchentable, hesitates for a second, then he points at the kitchen itself. “Make some food while your at it. Also, can I have some change of clothes?”

You make Okayu with ginger and honey, the rice porridge a comfort to your heart and a boost to Atsumu’s immune system.

It’s not a long tale. It could be, probably, but you refuse to go into more detail than necessary. Atsumu might be kind of a friend, in his weird, annoying way, but he’s still Osamu’s twin brother.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” He grabs the bag with his clothes and stalks off, dressed in one of your oversized hoodies and bright pink pajama pants, both things slightly too short on him.

“Give him a chance when he comes back,” are his parting words.

But Osamu does not show up.

Neither does he the next morning in class.

-

One of the teachers calls you over after class.

“You and Miya-san are pretty close, right?” She starts, speaks on while you’re still trying not to choke on your spit. “Could you bring him the notes from today? He called in sick. Tell him to take care and rest, so that he can take part in the Final.”

“I-I will.”

You end up in your own room instead, debating if you should just leave everything in front of his door and run. If he’s not at the final, you automatically win. But that’s not a win you’d feel good about, if you’re being honest to yourself.

Before you know it, you find yourself making Oyaku again, with Ginger and Honey, the one food that always gives you comfort and boosts your health. The process is simple, but it still calms you down every time. When it’s done, you look down at two portions and know what to do.

-

“Osamu?” The door is closed, but you can hear faint shuffling behind it. “I made you Oyaku. I heard you’re sick and got your notes from the teachers. I didn’t tell them that I’m a friend of yours, but she was convinced of it and didn’t let me change her mind. But I… we kinda are friends, right?” You feel so weird talking to the closed door. 

“Even if you don’t like me, we got to keep up the reputation. Eat the Oyaku, okay? Winning doesn’t feel the same if you kick yourself out of the game.”

You put everything in front of his door and leave, lingering at the end of the hallway, just out of sight, until you hear his door. When you look back, the Oyaku is gone and all you have to do is wait.

-

Osamu is already outside when you step out of the classroom. 

“Already finished?”

“Onigiri doesn’t take that long to make.” 

“Ah, right.” You nod, don’t know if you should avoid his gaze or follow your instinct and look a bit more closely. He sounds healthy at least.

“What did you make?” His voice is gruff when he asks.

“Ginger Honey Oyaku.” You answer, voice soft. “Which might confuse the teachers because I had all the ingredients ready for honey-glazed pork belly but I decided against it at the last second.”

“I’d have loved to try that pork belly.” Osamu sighs dreamily. “But that Oyaku was so good. I could eat that everyday and never get tired of it.”

“Same.” You smile but it falters when you feel his eyes on you and you know you’ve got to say it. “I made it for you.”

“Yeah, I know-”

“No, what you said… about the Entry Exam.” You can feel your heartbeat, like the fluttering of hummingbird wings. If you’re going to pass out during your confession, you’re going to kill Osamu for it.

Behind you, the door opens and two more students step out. Osamu looks at them and back at you and you nod, point down the hallway. “Let’s take a walk?”

There’s a broom closet not far down and you slip inside only to regret it seconds later. There’s barely enough space for the two of you, his breath washing over you as you try to focus on the words you need to say. Out loud, so he can hear them too.

“I want to beat you.” You can hear him snort, but you keep your gaze on your hands. You won’t be able to speak if you look into his eyes. “But you’re also really funny and caring and cute, in a way. I could see myself, I mean, I already, you know-”

“What about Tsumu?” He asks, voice strangely hoarse.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you like him more? You don’t feel the need to beat him every two seconds, right?”

You roll your eyes and groan.

“Seriously? The best thing about Atsumu is that he looks kinda like you.”

If you had wanted to say more - you didn’t, but you hate letting anyone else have the last word - it leaves your mind the second his lips press onto yours. 

Your mind’s not yet caught up, but your body is, hands dragging through his hair to pull him closer, to marvel at the softness of it - what conditioner is he using? - to have him a little closer.

His hands are on your hip, your back, roam over your shoulders, leaving warm trails and goosebumps behind.

Then there’s bright light and a shrill shriek and you burst away from each other only to face one of your teachers.

“What? The indecency! During an exam no less! Detention! Detention!” Her garbled words don’t make much sense, but the last word you understand.

Osamu sends you a look, his eyes speaking of little guilt and a promise to continue this latter. You can’t help but feel the same.

-

As it turns out, Detention automatically overrules your exceptional Exam marks. Neither of you wins the internship. Neither of you cares. 

Osamu had applied to an Onigiri shop not far from the school as a second option and with your last name you have no trouble securing an internship with a well-known nutritionist for Pro Athletes. 

Your father is not happy about your change in dreams, but when you explain the earning capacity of this position, and the business plan you’re already halfway through making, your excitement swaps over.

Your mother, as usual, barely listens. But you take it in stride, her usual droning on about a recipe she’s working on, by thinking about how in less than an hour, you’ll see Osamu again.

-

“You guys owe me.” Atsumu declares during Movie night. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, the last piece of the Pizza in his hands. “I’m talking about food for life.”

“We could have done it without you,” Osamu insists, arm around you, face nuzzled into your hair. He pretends he’s watching the movie, but you know better. He’s been thinking about the cheese crackers in your pantry for hours.

“If I hadn’t pulled you out in the rain to talk things through, you wouldn’t have gotten sick and your girlfriend wouldn’t have made Oyaku for you! That’s enough reason for you to love me forever!”

“If you hadn’t interfered he wouldn’t have had to think we were dating instead.” You point out and dig your hands into Osamu’s grip on your arms, moving away from him.

“Babe, what-” He starts but you nod in the direction of your pantry. “Get the crackers. I can’t watch you any longer.”

“Really?” His face lights up like a child in front of a Christmas tree. It’s worth the ridiculous price you paid for the crackers.

“Really.”

He kisses you and the moment could be perfect. But there’s still Atsumu, fake gagging in the background.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[writingwithciara]

fancy friends for the summer -quinn hughes-

summary: quinn attends y/n’s cousins wedding with her, but as a friend

word count: 4.6k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

notes: why do i keep doing this to myself 😩

"jack, i need a favor!" y/n called out as she walked into jack & luke's apartment.

"what's up?" jack emerged from the kitchen.

"my cousin is getting married in michigan and i told him i was bringing a date."

"okay. when is it?"

"next monday. which means we would need to be in michigan by sunday night. i'm sorry it's short notice but i completely forgot i checked the plus one box until he called me earlier."

"i would love to be your date, but i got a game that day."

"and if you have a game, that means luke would also be unavailable. damn it." y/n sighed and leaned against the counter.

quinn, who had been sitting on the couch, turned his head. "you do know that jack has another brother, right?"

"oh, right. sorry quinn." y/n walked over to him. "do you want to be my date?"

"yes." he said a little too eagerly. he coughed to cover it up. "should be fun."

"are you sure? there's gonna be a lot of questions."

"yeah i'm sure. i'm a hockey player who gets interviewed a lot. i can handle questions."

"okay perfect. i owe you a huge favor." y/n smiled and went back to the kitchen to talk to jack.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

when the day of the wedding rolled around, y/n and quinn were getting ready at the lake house since it was only a 10 minute drive from the wedding venue.

quinn had been waiting for y/n down in the living room for nearly 20 minutes before she came in wearing a light blue dress. this wasn't the first time quinn had seen her all dressed up, as she had attended multiple events for the NHL with him and his brothers. but there was something different about this time that he couldn't put his finger on.

"wow. you clean up nice, hughes."

"why do you sound so surprised? you've seen me dressed up before." quinn chuckled as y/n approached him and adjusted his tie a bit.

"i know. but no matter how many times i see it, i can never get used to you looking this good." y/n smiled and grabbed her phone. "alright let's go."

y/n walked out to quinn's car and got in carefully. quinn climbed in and began the short drive to the venue.

when they arrived, he handed his keys to the valet and looked at y/n, who was nervously smoothing out her dress.

"ready?" he held out his arm for her to take and she smiled, taking it gently before following quinn inside. they found their seats and waited for the ceremony to begin.

"so, are you really prepared for all the questions you're gonna get at the reception?"

"pretty much. but just in case, can you give me a rundown of what i might expect?"

"of course." she leaned closer and whispered. "there's gonna be a lot of 'relationship' questions and i know you keep your life private but this is my family. they know a lot about you already. but regardless, they're gonna ask a lot about us. is that alright?"

"nothing i can't handle." he smiled and squeezed her hand.

the ceremony started moments later and normally, everyone would be staring at the bride and groom but quinn's gaze constantly drifted over to y/n. he couldn't figure out why. he knew he wasn't attracted to her. maybe it was the setting of the day making him feel this way.

at the reception, it only got worse for quinn. he danced with y/n for the first couple of songs before he had to take a bathroom break. when we got back, y/n was dancing close with someone quinn didn't know. he knew for sure he wasn't a family member so he figured the guy was from the bride's family.

instead of interrupting what looked like a good time, quinn decided to sit back at their table.

y/n, who was dancing with the bride's brother, noticed quinn sitting alone and excused herself to go over to him. when she sat down, she smiled. "you having fun, quinn?"

"surprisingly, yes. usually i don't go to weddings but this one has been fun."

"if you don't usually do weddings, why'd you agree to come with me?" y/n smiled.

"the company was never this good, i guess." quinn smiled back at her as he sipped his own drink. he set his glass back on the table and looked at her. "so, who was that you were dancing with when i got back from the bathroom?"

"why? you jealous?"

"not even slightly." but he felt like that was a lie. "just don't want any of your family to get the wrong idea. that's all."

"don't worry. he's the bride's brother and he'd probably rather dance with you, if i'm being honest." she sent a playful wink quinn's way.

"oh." suddenly realization hit him. "oh. got it." he chuckled and looked down at his nearly empty glass. "wanna dance?"

"yes, i do." y/n smiled and took his outstretched hand, following him quickly to the dance floor just as a slow song began playing. "what a coincidence. i was just singing this song in my head."

"i believe it." quinn smiled as he started dancing with y/n. there was a moment shared between them was incredibly intimate and even though no words were exchanged, they both knew their connection was much stronger for it.

y/n giggled as quinn spun her around the dance floor slowly. and as he pressed her body closer to his, they both realized it was the closest they had ever been.

the song felt like it was never going to end, but neither of them cared much. they were enjoying the moment. so when the song did finally end, y/n pouted a little. she hoped quinn didn't notice her shift in mood, but he definitely did. it was hard not to when he was feeling the same way.

"if you want, we can head back to the lake house." he grinned as they took their seats at the table again. he sipped his drink slowly and was thankful he decided to go the non-alcoholic route. y/n didn't hesitate to nod.

they said their goodbyes and got in the car. before they were out of the parking lot, quinn had reached over the console and grabbed y/n's hand. when she didn't pull it away, he squeezed it gently.

when they got back to the lake house, y/n went to the guest room while quinn went across the hall to his own room.

"tonight was a lot of fun. thanks for being my date for the night."

"yeah. it was no problem. i had a great time." quinn smiled. "good night."

and they both went into their rooms as if there was never a moment shared between them.

just as y/n was getting settled into her bed, quinn knocked on her door. he didn't wait for her to respond before he came in.

"are we just going to pretend that there wasn't a moment between us at the wedding, and then again on the car ride home?"

"no. we're not going to pretend."

"okay good." quinn walked over to her slowly and kissed her softly. it wasn't his intention for things to escalate but when y/n pulled him down to join her on the bed, he couldn't help but follow her lead.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

after they left michigan, quinn went back to vancouver and y/n went to new jersey. she needed to tell jack what happened.

"jack, are you home?"

"yes. what's up?"

"i need to talk to someone."

"okay. what about?" jack set his bowl down on the coffee table and turned his attention from the tv to y/n as she sat next to him.

"the wedding."

"did something happen?"

"yeah. i slept with quinn."

"wait, what?"

"that's exactly how i reacted to when we woke up the next morning." she sighed. "i don't know why it happened. we're not even attracted to each other."

"are you sure about that?" luke entered the living room and sat on the chair. jack and y/n gave him a look. "i was listening in the hallway."

"okay, well i can't speak for him but i can honestly say that i am not attracted to your brother."

"i believe you." jack smiled. "i don't think quinn is attracted to you either, which is weird."

"if they're not attracted to each other, then why'd the sleep together? isn't that going to complicate things with olivia?"

"who's olivia?" y/n heard the name and felt her smile disappear. she knew the answer but she didn't really want to hear it.

"she's a girl quinn has been talking to for awhile but i don't know if they made the jump to make things official or not."

"i think they did. mom mentioned something about quinn inviting olivia to the lake house this summer." luke looked at y/n and noticed she was messing with her necklace. "you okay?"

"yeah. but if she's coming to the lake house, does that mean there won't be room for me?"

"of course not. there's always going to be room for you." jack smiled and threw his arm around y/n. "don't you ever doubt your place in this family."

"i won't." she smiled and leaned into jack's side.

"we leave on friday. you ready for that?"

"of course. always am." y/n smiled. "you mind if i stay here?"

"of course not. you're always welcome here." luke smiled and headed to his room.

"i'm gonna head to bed too. you good on the couch or do you want the bed?"

"couch should be fine. thanks jack." y/n smiled and curled up with the blanket.

the 3 of them fell asleep quickly.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

on friday afternoon, jack was unloading the car with help from luke while y/n was unlocking the house.

"we're the first ones here." she looked around the empty house. luke set bags down beside her and smiled.

"that's a good thing. you get to pick your room."

"oh yay." y/n took off up the stairs and just as she was about to turn the doorknob to the room she normally stayed in, she remembered what happened the night of the wedding. she turned around and kept walking to the room next to it.

"don't want your normal room?" jack asked from behind her/

"no. think it's time for a change. you don't mind if i share with you, do you?"

"no. not at all. luke will just have to room with trevor this year." he walked into the room and set their bags inside. jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. "oh. quinn's here with the food. should we go down and help?"

"why not?" y/n slid her own phone back in her pocket and followed jack downstairs. when she saw quinn, her heart felt like it skipped a beat when it shouldn't have.

"oh my god. food!" luke came in from the backyard and grabbed the bags from quinn. he rushed them to the kitchen, leaving jack, y/n and quinn in the front hall.

"i'm gonna go help luke. well, more like stop him before he eats everything right away." jack left the awkward situation.

y/n was about to follow him but quinn's voice stopped her. "hey. it's good to see you."

she turned around to face him. "it's good to see you too, quinn."

"we should talk about what happened."

"no. we should go help your brothers put the food away." y/n wasted no time heading into the kitchen to join her best friend. "thanks for that, jack."

"oh, you're welcome." jack chuckled and put the last bag of chips in the pantry, just as quinn walks into the kitchen. "hey bro. where's olivia?"

"she's coming up later tonight. she had some, uh, things she had to take care of before taking 2 weeks off."

"okay cool." luke is already halfway through a bowl of cereal before he says a word. "so, is she your girlfriend?"

"yeah. she is." quinn couldn't bring himself to look y/n in the eye. he couldn't make eye contact with his brothers either. he was lying to them but he needed to come up with a good excuse for when she doesn't show up later.

he thought he and olivia would be good together but after he went to the wedding and slept with y/n, he knew he couldn't lead her on. so as soon as he got home, he broke things off with her. all he could think about was y/n and it was killing him because he had convinced himself for years that he wasn't attracted to y/n at all.

but seeing her in that dress at the wedding made him realize he had only been lying to himself the entire time.

"we're gonna go out on the boat. you coming, quinn?" jack waved his hand in front of his brother.

"yeah sure. y/n and luke already gone?"

"meeting us out there. it's our job to bring the cooler and snacks, per luke's request."

"got it." quinn began to load the cooler with drinks while jack grabbed the snacks. "alright. i'm gonna go get ready. meet you down in 5 minutes?"

"yeah. sure." jack watched as his brother went back up the stairs. y/n walked in a minute later.

"jack, i gotta talk to you about something. something i never thought i would have to bring up with you ever."

"alright. what is it?"

"i think i'm attracted to quinn now."

"you've got to be kidding me." jack chuckled.

"i know. it's stupid and i didn't think i was but then i saw him when he got here and i don't know. it was like my heart started beating differently. i don't know what to do. especially since he's got a girlfriend, who he technically cheated on."

"they weren't together when you guys had sex. they were only talking. so he's in the clear for it. you don't have to feel guilty about it."

"i don't feel guilty. i just don't like that i'm attracted to him now out of all of the times i could've found him attractive." she sighed and noticed jack laughing. "this isn't funny, asshole."

"i'm sorry but it kind of is. i can't believe you like my brother." he shook his head and handed her the bag of snacks just as quinn was coming into the kitchen. "ready?"

"yeah." quinn watched y/n leave the room and grabbed the cooler with jack. when he saw that y/n was a decent distance away from them, he looked at jack. "i have a problem."

"we all do. what is it?"

"i think i like y/n now."

after a few hours on the boat, jack got a text from trevor saying he and cole had arrived so quinn drove the boat back to the dock. jack got off first and helped y/n climb off. she jumped on his back and he walked up to the grass. luke tied the boat to the dock just as trevor and cole made their way down.

"it's about time you guys got here. we've been waiting for 15 minutes." trevor chuckled while looking at everybody. he smiled when he saw y/n and jack's back. "and this happened? do you not tell me anything anymore, jack?"

"oh no. we're not-" y/n started but jack cut her off.

"sorry man. i've been meaning to tell you. just hadn't gotten around to doing so."

"that's okay. just glad to see you so happy." trevor smiled. "anyway, we ordered pizza before we got here so it should be here any minute."

"trevor, you are the best. i'm starving." luke smiled.

"luke, you had a bowl of cereal before we got on the boat and then you had a ton of snacks on the boat. how could you possibly still be hungry?" y/n smiled as jack set her on the ground.

"i'm a growing boy, y/n. i need the nutrients."

"okay. whatever you say, luke." she followed the 3 boys into the house. jack and quinn finished unloading everything from the boat.

"i didn't know you and y/n were a thing now." quinn grabbed the cooler and started walking back to the house.

"yeah. it's kinda new." jack tried his best to keep his brother from breaking through the lie. "you okay with it?"

"well as long as you make her happy, that's all that matters."

"i'll try my best." jack walked into the house and went to y/n. he pulled her out of the room, making sure to excuse them from the conversation. "sorry about that earlier. just figured that it would be easier for you to handle olivia if you were also in a 'relationship'. plus it'll be a lot easier to explain why we're sharing a room now."

"i get it. it makes sense & quite honestly, i'm surprised you thought of that so quickly."

"i do have my moments." jack smiled. "apparently, olivia is supposed to be here shortly. and if at any point in the night you want an escape, just give me a look and we'll disappear."

"i appreciate you so much, jack." y/n smiled and followed him back to the living room. she sat next to jack on the chair while the boys took the couch and the other chair.

through the next few hours, tons of topics were tossed into conversations around them but jack & y/n stayed in their own little world. quinn's gaze never left the pair but he was indeed listening to the conversations going on with the other boys.

"so, when should we be expecting olivia, quinn?" luke brought up quinn's girlfriend, causing everyone to turn towards him, even jack and y/n.

"unfortunately, she wont be making it here until tomorrow. picked up a last minute shift at work to make some extra money."

"okay. cool." trevor nodded in his direction and turned towards luke. "so when are you going to get a girlfriend?"

"what do you mean by that, trevor?"

"your brothers both have girlfriends. don't you think it's about time you had one as well?"

"i want to focus more on my career for a bit before i fall in love."

"okay. i guess that's smart." he nodded and resumed his conversation with quinn and cole. luke found a way to insert himself into the conversation, leaving y/n and jack in their own little world again. she wasn't worried about olivia, but that feeling lasted for 5 minutes.

"olivia says she's excited to see everyone tomorrow. she should be here around noon."

"oh cool." y/n looked at jack and started playing with her bracelet. he grabbed her hand and stood up.

"we're gonna head to bed now. see you boys in the morning." jack walked behind y/n as she climbed the stairs.

"thank you for that. the look on quinn's face when he brought up olivia was killing me. and the way he talked about her was torture." y/n threw herself onto the bed dramatically. "he clearly loves her and i can't compete with that."

"i don't know if he loves her. but if she's gonna be here then you can just stay with me the entire time, like we planned."

"sounds good." she yawned. "i'm actually going to sleep now. thank you for tonight."

"no problem. get some rest." jack kissed her head gently and sat at his desk. mere moments later, he heard her softly snoring. he wasn't tired so he went out of the room and headed down to the kitchen. on the way down, he bumped into quinn.

"hey, bro. that was an abrupt exit you guys made earlier. is everything okay with y/n today? she's acting weirder than normal."

"yeah she's fine. she was just tired." jack grabbed a bottle of water and looked at his brother. "can i ask you something?"

"sure."

"if you like y/n, why are you inviting olivia here?"

"olivia's not coming. i ended things with her." quinn admitted.

"what? why, and when, did you do that?"

"because of y/n. it happened when i got back from the wedding. i couldn't lead her on. it wouldn't be fair." he sighed. "and now i'm stuck because y/n's your girlfriend now. i should've known you guys were gonna get together eventually. happens a lot with best friends."

"i'm sorry, bro. i'm sure there will be someone for you soon. and it may not be y/n but she'll love you as long as you love her." jack looked at his brother. "i'm sure this thing with y/n is only temporary and you'll move on in no time."

"i'm not sure about that, jack. every time i see her, it's like i forget how to breath and my heart starts beating faster. i don't know what to do. and i'm sorry. i know she's your girlfriend and that i need to get over her, but it's starting to feel impossible."

"sorry." jack shook his head. "well, i'm heading back to bed. talk to you in the morning." jack grabbed an extra bottle for y/n and headed back upstairs. what quinn was describing wasn't just a crush. it was love. he was in love with y/n & it made jack feel bad. he didn't want to stand in the way of love.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

"are you serious, jack? you're really ending things now?" y/n and jack were in the living room having a fake breakup, hoping to catch everyone's attention.

"look, i'm sorry. but even you can't deny that we were better off as friends."

"i want to hate you for breaking my heart, but you're right. i will always love you but being in love with you just doesn't seem right."

"wait, what's going on? don't break up. you guys are soulmates." luke mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"sorry, luke. we have to." jack looked at y/n and smiled. "she's my soulmate, but platonically." he walked out of the room.

"we had a good run." y/n smiled and sat next to luke. "do you ever stop eating?"

"when i'm sleeping." he smiled widely and wiped his mouth. "so you and jack aren't dating anymore?"

"nope. but that's okay. i love him, but i don't think i was ever in love with him."

"is it because you and quinn are in love with each other?"

"what makes you think i'm in love with quinn?"

"well for one, i'm very attentive." luke chuckled. "plus i overheard you and jack talking about it. and i heard him and quinn talking last night. quinn ended things with olivia after he got back from the wedding because he realized that he would only be leading her on, which wouldn't be right. he told jack that whenever he sees you, it's like he forgets how to breath and his heart beats faster. sounds like love."

"that's a lot of information to consume so quickly." y/n looked at luke.

"hey guys. what's up?" quinn smiled as he entered the room.

"and that's my cue to leave. see you later." luke quickly walked out of the room, leaving y/n alone with quinn.

"well that was weird." he chuckled. "so, here we are again."

"looks like it." y/n couldn't even look at quinn.

"what are your plans for the day?"

"quinn, do you love me?" she quickly changed the subject.

"what? why do you ask?"

"luke told me a few interesting things a couple of minutes ago. said he overheard you and jack talking last night."

"well i don't know what he thinks he heard, but that wasn't it."

"quinn, just answer the question. do you love me?"

"even if i did, it would be wrong. you're dating jack."

"it was a lie." y/n looked at him. when he raised an eyebrow, she continued. "it was jack's idea to pretend to be dating. it was supposed to be an easy way to explain why we were sharing a room this year."

"i'm confused."

"it was also supposed to serve as a way to distract me from your relationship with olivia. he didn't want to see me upset about it."

"why would you be upset about me and olivia?"

"doesn't matter. heard she wasn't even coming up here anymore. what happened there?" y/n looked at quinn, already knowing the answer.

"we broke up." he sighed. "right after i got back from the wedding. but is it technically a break up if we weren't even dating?"

"why did you guys break up?"

"something tells me luke already told you."

"he did tell me something. but i want to hear your reasoning."

"well, at the wedding, i realized i had been lying to myself. i kept telling myself that i wasn't attracted to you in any way. but i realized that i actually was attracted to you. whenever i walk into a room and see you, it's like i forget how to breath and my heart beats faster."

"you seem to be having a good time breathing right now." y/n looked at him and smiled.

"i'm freaking out on the inside though. just don't want to show my emotions to everyone." he avoided her eye contact but felt her eyes burning a hole into the side of his head.

"quinn, why didn't you just tell me?"

"i was planning to. but then you and jack announced your relationship & it felt wrong." he finally looked at her. "but don't worry. i know it's fake but i can see how happy he makes you so you should be with him for real. i'm going to forget about this and move on."

"quinn, you can't just-"

"don't try to talk me out of it. my mind is already made up." quinn began to walk out of the room but y/n grabbed his arm.

"i love you. i didn't think i did but the wedding changed everything. and not just because we had sex. i thought that maybe it was all because of the romance of the night but i thought more about it. and when i saw you earlier, i couldn't stop my heart from going crazy. then you mentioned olivia and i realized that my heart felt like it was breaking. you smiled when you said her name and it was the kind of look that i hoped you'd give me one day." y/n let his arm go and sighed. "do you still want to forget about this thing between us?"

"i really, really don't." quinn held her face gently. "i love you too. so much. i know this is new for both of us but we can take it slow. we have all summer to make up for lost time. if you want to, that is."

"i definitely want that." y/n smiled and closed the gap between them. it wasn't their first kiss and it definitely wouldn't be their last.

jack had been watching from the hallway while their conversation went down. he was happy that two of his favorite people overcame their stubbornness to finally be together.

everything seemed to be fitting exactly where it needed to be.

[world-of-aus]

The Arrangement - Chapter 3

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angsty Dialogue. Longing????

Author's Note: Chapter 3 is finally here, I apologize for the delay, but I wanted to make this as good as I could for all of you. Also the vows used are my personal favorite and I think they fit the story well. I hope you enjoy, thank you, and happy readings!

You’re looking over the latest shipment, fingers dancing down the list of numbers, eyes scanning over the page from left to right. 

“You know, I heard most brides should be relaxing before their big day, having a night out on the town with their friends. Why am I not surprised you’re still here sweetheart?"

Your fingers still, eyes flitting up to see you father at the open door of your office, you offer a warm smile, “m'about done, just doing a final check before the weekend, wanted to make sure our numbers were right come Monday when we merge with the Barnes, didn't want a single hair out of place. And I'll have you know that Becca and I had a girls night yesterday by the way, we plan on catching a late dinner tonight as well so consider that my night out on the town.” 

Your father chuckles stepping into your space, your eyes flit back to the sheet as he draws closer, his presence looming at your side as he watches you. He waits till you’ve skimmed the last of the page, till you’re relaxed back against the office chair eyes on him before he speaks. 

“How are you doing my girl,” he murmurs reaching out to stroke your head, “I’ve been worried about you since your mom called you home and delivered the news.” 

“I don’t know how to feel dad,” you answer honestly, “should I feel happy, sad, angry, regret?” 

“Regret?” he questions. 

“This isn’t the way this was supposed to go,” you say. “I planned a wedding for tomorrow that isn’t mine, everything up to the last detail is hers, it's not mine and now I’m expected to step up – to step in for my family. Do you know what that’s going to feel like? To look like? Stepping in to a wedding that screams ‘This isn’t yours’, a wedding that you didn't invision." What if she comes back dad, what if she comes to her senses and decides she wants him back? What then? Are you going to discard up the contract like you did that night? Discard my feelings as if they meant less than hers?” 

Your father looks stricken by your words, “but we thought it’s what you wanted sweetheart, you didn’t fight us on it, you willingly let him sign so we assumed it's what you wanted too."

You scoff with a shake of your head, maybe you’d settle on feeling anger. “Of course I made it seem like it's something I wanted. Forgive me for not wanting to put myself through a one-sided marriage. He fell for her dad the first night he laid eyes on her and he was locked in, he loves her, he chose her. So of course I let him go despite my breaking heart. I refused to be the cause of someone’s unhappiness, to be the cause of my own unhappiness because I deserve someone who will love me back, who would choose me and he wasn’t going to chose me.” 

‘I can’t do this to her.’ 

But he could do it to you. 

“Sweetheart I’m -” 

You bring a hand up, “Please don’t dad, I’ve agreed to this because I know what it meant to our family, and I’ll play my role just as you asked but please don't ask more of me, there's only so much that I can give, and I think I've given enough."

Your fathers struck by your words, and he can only watch as you stand from the seat gathering your things. It’s only once you’ve reached the door of the office you turn to regard him, “I’ll see you tomorrow dad.” He wants to call you back,  to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness because how could he have not seen it. Seen what that night did to you, he should have done more for you, fought it, but all he could think of that night was the merger, the safety it would bring both families. He thought of everyone’s happiness but your own that night. They all did. 

“You know my offer still stands to be your getaway driver for tomorrow right?” 

Despite the tears blurring your eyes you still manage to snort out your laughter, “Your brother would have us tracked down in minutes Bec’s there’s no where you could go that he wouldn’t find you, he has plenty of people that owe him favors just ready to cash in. Also don't get me started on the hell my father would reign, I don't take his position till after I marry."

“It was a worth a try,” she grumbles stabbing a noodle, “I just hate to see you hurting y/n, this isn’t how the night before your big day should be going, you should be happy – those tears shouldn’t be sad ones.” 

You smile sadly at the noodles in the takeout box before looking over the coffee table at your best friend, “but this isn’t my big day Bec's, I'm doing this for our families." Rebecca abandons her noodles all but crawling over the wooden coffee table to get to you, her arms crushing you in a welcomed embrace. “Tomorrow is for you y/n, I know none of it feels like it is, but its for you, I promise it is.” 

Your fingers curl around your friend as more tears slip from your eyes, god how you wish that were the truth. You would give yourself tonight to cry, to be hurt, to feel angry, but tomorrow, tomorrow it would all be different - you'd learn to mask it. You would no longer cry, no longer allow this pain to consume you, you were going to fight for your happiness - real happiness, and ensure you got every bit of it you deserved. 

Bucky remembered the nights the two of you would be out in the backyard of the Barnes residence, a soft blanket laid out beneath the two of you, the stars coating the night sky as you two drew up the image of the ‘perfect wedding’ a wedding between the two of you that was written in the stars. Looking around the chapel now he doesn’t see a single speck of you in the details. Though why would he, this wedding wasn’t yours despite all the effort you had gone to make sure it was perfect and it really wasn’t his – was it?  

He still recalls the day your sister eagerly announced their engagement to both families, he had imagined this being one of the most exciting moments in his life but where was that sought after feeling? He had found no excitement when she mentioned that you and her would be going dress shopping for the first time since the engagement dropped, no eagerness in wondering what she would look like in her chosen all white dress. If anything he felt like he had been outsider to most of it, the cake testing, the linen choosing, the food tasting, and at the time he couldn't quite understand why. Where had that rush he felt with you in his backyard gone? This was his wedding, he should feel happy, so why didn't he, what was missing?

Bucky thought he might be devastated when his mother rang him to tell him about your sister not being able to go through with the wedding. He thought he might have been crushed when he received her text: Please forgive me. I love you, but I can't do this. He thought he might feel hurt when his number was blocked shortly after, but he felt nothing.

Now though as he stands at the head of the chapel, Steve and Sam at his side a feeling Bucky can’t place his finger on crushes his chest as he looks over the families lining the pews of the church. There are quiet whispers filtering through the air, and Bucky thinks that's what may be causing the feeling. Or maybe it was the fact that you still hadn’t entered through the closed doors of the chapel.  

Had you unlike your sister gotten actual cold feet, or maybe you finally decide to do something for you, something that wasn't at the benefit of your family.

Steve leans in from where he’s stood at his side, “would you like me to go check on them pal?” Bucky’s lip's part on an answer but the doors to the chapel are pushing in, his sister albeit a little disheveled makes her way down the aisle, quiet apologies on her lips as she takes her spot on your side.

He looks at her in question, "we hit a bump in the road," she mouths, "she's coming."

Bucky wants to question her further, but then the piano is being queued, the doors swinging open and just there at the entrance you stand with your father, your arms entwined together.

He forgets how to breathe.

Bucky watches your father guide the two of you down the aisle, both family's stood on their feet. The feeling that weighed him down earlier is now replaced with something new as your father closes the distance. You're dressed in a silk white dress, a delicate veil placed in your hair, a simple piece yet on you it looked incredibly stunning, so this was the bump in the road.

He meets you and your father, your hand being placed in his, "take care of my girl son." Bucky looks at your father, his hand squeezing yours, "I give you my word sir." your father nods placing a kiss to your cheek before taking his spot by your mother.

It's just you and Bucky for a moment as he leads you up to the officiant, "I'm sorry for being late," you whisper, "I -" He turns to you then as you stop before the officiant, his other hand taking yours, "there's nothing to be sorry for I understand, you're here now, you look beautiful sweetheart."

He's left you speechless, but there's no room for words as the officiant begins the ceremony.

Bucky can't take his eyes off you, not even as he repeats the vows he's supposed to, his eyes only ever part from yours when he goes to present you with the ring Steve passes him, and even then they're on yours shortly after as he makes his promise to you. He cant quite describe the feeling that passes over him when you take the ring from Becca eyes locked on his as you make your vows to him sealing it with the ring over his finger.

Why did he ever let you go?

"James Barnes and Y/F/N Y/L/N, having proclaimed your love and commitment to one another in the eyes of these loved ones, and with the power vested in me by the Universal Life Church and the state of New York, I am so happy to pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant turns his attention to Bucky then, "You may kiss your bride."

You and Bucky had only ever kissed one other time, and it was a moment like this one that he knew he would never forget.

He's on his side looking down at you, taking in the beauty of your features as your eyes dance across the starry sky. "I'd want to write my own vow's," he proclaims, "it would feel more personal, more us."

He loves when your eyes find his, there's a brightness in your eyes at his proclamation, "I'd love that too B, care to share with me a bit of what you'd say?"

He know's you're teasing but in that moment he doesn't care, he thinks he may be able to tell you tonight, to show you just how much he cares, how much he loves you. "I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms now and forever," he breathes grinning at the soft surprise that skirts over your features. "I promise to never forget that this is a once-in-a-lifetime love. And to always know in the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find our way back to each other."

He thinks you might have been the first to move, your hand finding the back of his head, the other the side of his face as you caressed his cheek, he knows there's love in your eyes as you pull him a little closer, the whispered words, 'you may now kiss the bride' ghosting over his lips just before they met yours.

He's certain he's the one that's moved first this time, one hand finding your waist, the other your cheek as he pulls you closer. He can see the fear, the worry there in your eyes, and he caresses your skin in hopes of easing that worry as he closes the distance between the two of you.

And just before his lips slot over yours Bucky vows then to mend the promises he had broken.

The Arrangement Taglist:

If you'd like to be added or removed please let me know, Many Thanks <3

@learisa @greatenthusiasttidalwave @barnesxstan @calwitch @h0nestly-though @wintrsoldrluvr @esposadomd @roofwitty779 @pattiemac1 @sebastians-love @scott-loki-barnes @mrsnikstan @metanoiablxxm @lostyx @missvelvetsstuff @casa-boiardi @shoutingcardinal @tiedyedghoulette @littleeuphoriaelf @polireader @armystay89 @cjand10 @railmesebstan @agardenflower25 @brckenmemories @mcira @loki-laufeyson68 @edelweissbarnes @unaxv @ghalouha @wasalreadyhere @broadwaybabe18 @mavs101 @stormy-stardust @shadowrose13-blog1 @laha1na

[rotthepoet]

heyy, i’ve been reading a lot of ur stuff lately and it’s safe to say im obsessed. i was wondering if u could write 69 w the slytherin boys? only if ur comfortable but i feel like that would be really cool. ty!

POOKIE IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER I HAVE BEEN IN SUCH A SLUMP I’LL NEVER MAKE YOU WAIT WEEKS AGAIN THANK YOU MY LOVE!!!!!

Im sitting here wondering how i should write this?? Hmmm. Writing my thoughts as i think them dont mind me<3

Smut below the cut

Draco would like… maybe be the most gentle?? If i do say so myself, and I do. He’ll probably put the most thought into how its going to happen, when, why. He wanted a lovely date, treat you nice all night, be the perfect boyfriend… and expects a reward. Self indulgent bitch. Anyways! He leads you to bed, nice and slow, passionate make out sesh, you are living a dream! Then as you both finally get your clothes off, he’s kissing down your thighs, looking into your eyes and whispering soft praises before he lays on his back, and you(knowing the drill) go to straddle his face before he grips your thigh and smirks. “Other direction, darling.” And he cant help but laugh at how you blush. He lets you set the pace, matching your speed or slowness until you both finish <3

With Blaise, it just kinda happens naturally. No one had to go watch or read porn to think about it. You and him were getting freaky one night, a movie turning into wandering hands, turning into you on his lap with his tongue down your throat. The energy in the room just said 69, and you’d be a fool to ignore it. You’re on top, and the grip he has on your ass is fucking delicious. He’s so controlling over your body, pressing his face right up into your cunt, practically inhaling, while you can barely take his tip. If you take too long going down on him he might bite your thighs to speed things up ;)

Oh man, Mattheo Fucking Riddle. Bitch. He’s a power hungry hard dom with a knack for getting what he wants when he wants it. Oh man. You’re in for a ride- no. A rollercoaster. He’s on top of you, ravaging your dripping pussy while fucking his dick into the back of your throat. Its impossible to breathe with his heavy balls slapping your face, but it cant be much easier for him with your thighs wrapping around his head. If he’s in a good mood, he’ll let you have your way. Otherwise, he’s manhandling you into whatever position he wants. He might get you upside down if you arent careful.

Theodore and Mattheo are pretty similar. Them and Enzo are the like.. roughest of the group? That being rough without copious amounts of praise. You’re far less likely to have to work for your “good girl” with Theo, but sometimes he’s a tease. Anyways, Trust the moment your lips are around his tip he’s tugging your hair and bucking up into you while he feasts. It’s so messy and loud and he’s halfway sitting up because your hips keep running from all the stimulation:(

And Lorenzo. This fucking bitch. He’s wanting to 69 all the time. I mean he gets head. You get head. I get head? Everyone gets head! And it takes half the time because two birds with one stone. In my humble, Enzo hating, opinion… he’s not big on foreplay. I mean he’ll finger you and stretch you out because he’s not a total monster, but he’s way more excited to get into the main course than an appetizer. Much like Theo or Mattheo, he’ll set the pace with his hips. No time to play around he needs to be balls deep in you rn.

[icaruspendragon]

i hope this isn't too personal of a question (and if it is that's totally cool, i was literally just curious as a fellow aspec person), but i was wondering what some of your thoughts were about being aspec, like it's totally cool if your thoughts were just the post you reblogged!!! that's honestly still putting into words a bit a similar way i figured out i was aspec, but i know you seem to have really interesting takes on things/conclusions you've realized about things a lot of the time and so i was just curious what thoughts were turning around your head about being aspec

I don't mind talking about it at all!

So for me sex is like this perfunctory, borderline tedious thing. I almost want to call it a chore, but that has negative connotations that don't exactly match up with how I feel about it. It's like something on a to do list, or like running an errand.

Think of it this way: For me, having sex is akin to going to the pharmacy. Actually, it's more like being asked to go for someone else. It's not on my list of things I enjoy doing and there are other things I would rather do, but I don't mind going if someone asks me to. But once in a blue moon I do actually want to go because I want candy or a Juneberry Red Bull or some shit like that and Walgreens happens to be nearby.

Media builds up sex to be this incredible and awesome and amazing thing that everyone wants to have, which is at odds with the widely held societal belief that it's uncouth to discuss sex openly with others. So if media says "yes you should want this" and society says "but you shouldn't talk about it with others because it's an incredibly private act" it makes it kinda difficult when you don't feel the way you're "supposed to." And then when you do talk about how you don't feel that way, people say there's something wrong with you or that you haven't found the right person or that maybe you need to change things up in the bedroom or that you need to go to a doctor because it's gotta be a hormonal imbalance or something. The list really does go on and on.

And so many of my expectations surrounding sex were informed by fanfic where I read, in detail, about how good it was supposed to feel. About all the different ways it could feel good.

I wanted it to be like that for me, for it to be as good as I had read and seen and heard others talk about, so I kept on trying. And sometimes I enjoyed it. Not E rated fanfic enjoyed it, but it was nice. Nice in the same way a cup of tea is nice, but nice nonetheless.

But most of the time it was like, clinical? Like I was acutely aware of what was happening, if that makes sense. I was thinking about the mechanics of it, what was going in where. I was thinking about how it was "supposed to feel" versus how it actually felt. I would wonder how much longer it would take because I was getting bored. Sometimes I would think about how rude it would be if I checked my phone. And probably the most upsetting (retrospectively) thing I would think about was if my act of enjoyment was convincing enough. And I didn't ever want to tell a partner that I wasn't enjoying it because I didn't want to hurt their feelings. Because I thought it was a me problem. That there was something wrong with me. And there being something wrong with me wasn't fair to whoever I was with. I just needed to grin and bear it, so to speak.

At one point I had a bit of a gay panic where I thought wasn't bisexual and actually a lesbian. The panic was over the confusion, not over the potential lesbianism. Lesbians are awesome. But I learned that while sexual intimacy with women was a bit easier, my feelings (or lack thereof) about sex were still the same. And that meant there was something wrong with me in particular.

I know now that my perspective was warped and my thoughts about myself were both unkind and untrue, but that was a lot to try and reconcile as a 19 year old who already thought she was undesirable. Constantly being called a "late bloomer" and not having your first relationship until you're a sophomore in college sure does a number on your self esteem. Which in turn does a number on your perception of yourself.

Then as I got older, I got more queer friends. And I talked to those queer friends. And they talked about sex differently than my straight friends did. More openly and honestly. With less fanfare. And it was during those discussions that I heard about experiences similar to mine. And it helped me realize I wasn't broken. Well, that and google.

And now I stand before you today, an aspec bisexual able to joke about being horny in theory but not in application. It's nice not feeling broken anymore. But I think it's even nicer now knowing that I was never broken in the first place.

Sometimes sex is nice, but most of the time, it's just going to the pharmacy. And both of those things are okay.