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#roasting is his love language
papa-evershed · 1 year
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Rob James-Collier || Mercenaries
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furby-organist · 2 months
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// in the 1930's, having a larger figure was considered a sign of wealth because people were starving during the great depression
anyway, alastor has broke boy physique 😭
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chaoticace2005 · 2 months
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Rules for the Hazbin Hotel, authored by Vaggie:
1. No drugs.
2. No fights.
3. No pranks.
4. No problematic language.
5. No murder (OR TERRITORIAL GENOCIDE WHAT THE FUCK ANGEL)
6. No smuggling in of drugs. Not by sticking them up your ass. Or by hiding them in a pizza box. Or by slingshotting them to the roof. Or getting someone else to. Not at all.
7. No sexual rendezvous with outsiders in the hotel. No SHOWING sexual rendezvous with strangers to people of the hotel either.
8. Make sure the pig/future pets stay in the patron’s room. (This includes eggs!!)
9. No singing Limit singing to once twice per day
10. Stop flirting with the bartender Angel
11. Don’t call Husk “Husker” unless he allows it.
12. No harassing the staff at all. This includes asking who tops.
13. Don’t suggest anything sexual/romantic to Alastor unless you want your head cut off.
14. NO CUTTING OFF PEOPLE’S HEADS
15. NO EATING PEOPLE
16. NO MAKING CHARLIE CRY.
17. Don’t ask me to put my spear “inside you” Angel, what the fuck?
18. Don’t turn the interior of the hotel into a swamp?! Keep it contained in your room if you must!
19. No stabbing staff or residents. No matter how much they look like bugs! (OR IF THEYRE NAME IS ANGEL)
20. Don’t try and stab bugs if they’re within 10 feet of another demon.
21. Don’t call anyone a “bitch” OR TALK ABOUT HOW MY NAME SOUNDS LIKE “VAGINA”
22. Limit Niffty’s access to sharp objects.
23. NO DEALS ALASTOR
24. No drinking. Limit drinking at bar.
25. No mentioning the Stock Market Crash of 1929. For everyone’s benefit.
26. Don’t blow a hole in the wall.
27. Try to keep roast battles OUTSIDE the hotel. (Or stop picking fights?? Please Alastor I swear to God…)
28. No spying on the hotel for outside sources or putting technology that can be used against us.
29. No evil laughing in the middle of the night, what the fuck Alastor?
30. No building weapons/war machines.
31. No eggs! (Fine the eggs can stay.)
32. Someone please keep an eye on Niffty. (And the eggs.)
33. Stop touching people ANGEL.
34. Don’t make other people storm off HUSK.
35. Respect boundaries.
36a. If Angel looks like he’s about to pass out/cry don’t comment. Let him do his thing.
36b. Don’t try to talk to Angel if he’s on the phone with Valentino. Honestly don’t even mention his phone calls with Valentino.
37. Please don’t call Lucifer “Daddy”
38. Don’t turn into a 20 foot tall demon-eating creature unless absolutely necessary.
39. Don’t cause angry loan sharks to show up at the front door.
40. NO EXPLOSIONS!
41. Rule #2, “No fights” can be broken if the person you’re fighting is Valentino. Or Adam.
42. Don’t lie to your girlfriend or hide the fact you were secretly an angel.
43. DONT TALK ABOUT PEOPLE’S TITS (or lack of)
44. KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING A BEDROOM ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE’S HAVING MAKEUP SEX
45. Don’t give people makeovers while they’re sleeping, ANGEL!
46. Don’t pretend to eat someone’s pet, ALASTOR
47. Don’t die.
48. I never want to hear the words “cum-plete” again.
49. STOP HAVING FIGHTS ACROSS THE BUILDING LUCIFER AND ALASTOR!!
50. If Charlie is passed out on the couch LET HER SLEEP
51. No making bombs in the hotel Cherri!
52. Stop breaking rules and then saying it’s “FOR SIR PENTIOUS!”
53. Angel don’t try to shoot someone if they break spaghetti.
54. Don’t break spaghetti. Or “ruin” Italian food. Whatever the fuck that means. This apparently includes pineapple on pizza.
55. Don’t mention Valentino unless Angel brings him up first.
56. Don’t comment on Angel and Husk’s flirting.
57. Only call Angel “Anthony” if things are serious (or if you’re Husk)
58. Don’t use any of the nicknames Husk and Angel use for each other. This includes but is not limited to: “Whiskers”, “Legs”, “Kitty”, “Webs”, “Tony”, “Love”, and “Baby.”
59. It’s better not to question whatever facts Husk gives about his past.
60. Family dinners at 6 pm unless you can’t make it due to prior obligation. Game nights after on Sundays.
61. No hunting people for sport and NO KNIFE MONOPOLY.
62. Don’t attach knives to a roomba so you can have a “boyfriend” Niffty.
63. Keep Niffty away from Roombas.
64. Alastor, treat people with decency. Really, it’s not that hard.
65. No making giant ducks that breathe fire to chase people around the hotel just because they call you short.
66. Therapy. Everyone.
67. DONT HAVE SEX ON THE BAR WHAT THE FUCK GUYS?!
68. If Valentino enters the property you have permission to stab him.
69. “Hell is forever” is bullshit. You guys aren’t. You can do this.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
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I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.
He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.
He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.
He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."
He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."
"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"
And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."
For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."
But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."
And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."
Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.
Eddie is ready to run.
But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~
。.*。☆゚ 🕰️ 09.45 p.m
tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m
a part of gojo's love entries
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“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”
“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”
“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”
“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”
“i hate you!”
satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”
lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.
gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”
“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?
but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.
“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”
you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”
“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”
“i’m just the container though.”
“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”
truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.
and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.
the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.
and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.
“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.
you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.
“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”
and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.
“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.
you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”
"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”
but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.
a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.
didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.
suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.
would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?
he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.
all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.
when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.
and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.
“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”
“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.
“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”
“the baby—”
“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.
“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”
you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—
“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”
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love-belle · 9 months
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i bet you think about me !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is just them shading each other on instagram and co parenting their cat.
or
for when you know they're thinking about you. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // lando norris x fem!reader
sequel - i'll be loving you for quite some time ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language. both the reader and lando are petty bitches having a petty virtual stand-off.
author's note - hello!!!!! so sorry for the wait, i've been busy with stuff :/// i really hope u like this <3 thank u so much for reading!!! i love u <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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landonorris happier than ever.
8,927 comments
username THE CAPTION
username oh.
username no bc why did this hurt me.
username my heart can't take it what the fuck
danielricciardo unnecessary caption but alright.
-> landonorris i did not lie though???
username WHY IS THIS HAPPENING
username i haven't recovered from their breakup and now ur telling me that they ended on bad terms??????
-> username no they're fine!!!!!!! this is just lando being silly!!!!!!!!!!!!!
username no bc why THE FUCK is lando out here looking all fine while my girl y/n was seen crying in front of her mom yesterday
-> username weren't there rumours that they broke up bc y/n was committed to this relationship more than lando was????
-> username oh what the fuck
username "happier than ever" like we didn't see u and y/n all those years with eachother
maxverstappen1 👍
*liked by landonorris*
username nah bc if i was y/n i would be so hurt by this what the fuck.
-> username imagine going through a breakup after being together for more than 2 years and they post THIS after a WEEK like
lilymhe fake ass bitch
*this comment has been deleted*
username god i love lily defending her wifey
username LANDO HOW AM U SUPPOSED TO DEFEND U LIKE THIS
username no bc my heart's aching for y/n she doesn't deserve this
charles_leclerc need to talk to you real quick.
-> carlossainz55 just a friendly chat!
-> username oh they're maaaaaaad
username im a child of divorce what the fuck
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername i’ll think of something else your initial can stand for
*this post is not available*
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername blocking him isn't enough when i want to throw tomatoes at his head like he's a medieval criminal
8,926 comments
username PLEASE
username SOMEONE TELL ME THEY SAW Y/N'S LAST POST
-> username NO BC WHEN U TELL U MY HEART BROKE
-> username "i’ll think of something else your initial can stand for" do u want me to cry.
username bet lando feels like an asshole after seeing that post 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
-> username imagine fumbling so hard 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
lilymhe replace those tomatoes with concrete blocks and we're good!
-> yourusername alright slow down
-> username HELP
username y/n liking all the comments roasting lando but blocking all the ones who are hating on him is actually so personal to me
-> username like girl hates him but only she's allowed to do it
-> username my parents!!!!!!!!! divorced but parents nonetheless!!!!!!!!!
charles_leclerc i can arrange the tomatoes
-> carlossainz55 i can lock him in a room for you to throw tomatoes at him
-> danielricciardo i can stand by and record the whole thing for you to look back on and laugh
-> yourusername i adore each one of you wtf ☹️☹️☹️
username that prev caption hits hard knowing that lando got her a necklace with his initial 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username THE LYRICS TOOK ME OUT OMG
username imagine breaking up with ur bf and seeing that post he posted after you posted a heartbreaking yet wistful post abt him like
-> username ngl that's gonna be my last straw
francisca.cgomes asking pierre to show it to him brb
-> yourusername LMFAOOO PLEASE
username this is so chaotic i CANNOT
username mother is mothering so hard after her breakup
-> username she broke free of the shackles 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
*liked by yourusername*
username babe it's okay me and our kids forgive u just come home ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
maxverstappen1 sending this to him
-> yourusername do it no balls
-> username pls she's so unserious i love her 😭😭😭
*liked by yourusername*
username i KNOW he looked at this post and cried
*liked by yourusername*
username me when they still post abt eachother but indirectly and with shady undertones 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😘😘😘😘😘😘😘
username i will get over a lot of things but i will never get over y/n and lando breaking up
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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landonorris pov: you're better now 🤍
7,926 comments
username pov ur a liar.
username lando it's okay honey u don't have to lie
username he said this yk like a liar
maxverstappen1 not me watching you wipe your tears right now
-> landonorris LEAVE ME ALONE
username the way i've been crying since i found out and it's not even my relationship like DAMN.
username lando how does it feel to fumble a bad bitch like y/n 🎤🎤🎤
username no bc i KNOW the drivers reallllllllly gave it to lando after they found out about the breakup
username IS THAT Y/N'S CAT
-> username they're co parenting caz 💀💀💀
-> username it's weekend with dad ig 😭😭😭
danielricciardo pov: you're a liar ❤️
-> landonorris choke ❤️
username max and daniel really calling him out on his bullshit 💀💀💀
-> username as they should
username the way i fell to the floor when the articles first came out abt their breakup
username so y/n WAS committed to this relationship more than he was
username me having a nice day and suddenly remembering the fact that lando once said that y/n was everything he had spent his life looking for and everything he thought he'd never find
-> username I WAS HAVING A NICE WHY DO U DO THIS TO ME
username "pov: you found your soulmate" hahahahahaha!!!! im fine!!!! totally not going crazy over this!!!!!
-> username do u get deja vu
carlossainz55 lies.
-> landonorris blocked.
username need them back together again for mental stability i fear
username they're actually very happy together my delusions told me!!!!!!!
username no way they're just over like that when we could SEE how much they loved eachother like
-> username the articles being all "they had different priorities" NO MF THEY KEPT SAYING HOW THEY COULDN'T WAIT FOR THEIR FUTURE TOGETHER
-> username to the person who wrote those articles, drop the addy i just wanna talk :)
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername when u know he's gonna think u every time he hears a taylor swift song and it'll make him want to CRY
7,532 comments
username the ultimate revenge
username the way i lit up whenever i see one of them posted but it's literally just them shading eachother like I CANNOT.
username LMFAOOOOO
carmenmmundt he'll listen to lover and it'll make him want to cry
-> georgerussell63 playing that the next time he walks in a room
-> yourusername thank u for ur service carmen's bf
username the way this whole thing is like a tennis match 💀💀💀
username ngl this is so entertaining
username couple weeks since they broke up and this is how their post breakup era is going
-> username when they're still so 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼
username they're just being silly!!!!!!!! just a prank y'all!!!!!!!! silly y/n and lando!!!!!!!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
danielricciardo can confirm that exile was playing when i walked into his driver's room
-> yourusername HELP OMG
-> username not exile LMFAOO
username why are u so pretty
username post break up glow be hitting different ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
*liked by yourusername*
username women become 1000000x more beautiful everytime a m*n disappoints them
*liked by yourusername*
lilymhe asking alex to make all the playlists just taylor swift babe we're destroying his peace
-> yourusername OKAY SLOW DOWN FOR A MIN
username y/n telling her fans to be kind and lando straight up to ignoring everything does tell u a lot abt them tbh but some people are not ready for that conversation yet
-> username the way y/n and him were FINE after their breakup until he posted with that caption likeeeee
-> username nah bc what if.............HE WAS THE PROBLEM
-> username men need to go back to war
lewishamilton can't wait to see you next week!! roscoe misses his favourite dogsitter!!
-> yourusername missing my buddy so much 🤍🤍🤍 see you both next week!!!!!!!
username the entire grid adores her i can TELL
username this is what he deserves
username no bc i know im supposed to sad that they broke up but them posting abt each other indirectly while having the other person blocked is so hilarious
username my y/nlando heart 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username the grid still being close to y/n is so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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landonorris how i feel every time i hear a taylor swift song and my mind goes straight to her
7,931 comments
username NOT HIM USING HIMSELF AS MEMES
username so who's gonna tell him.
username people who follow both of them 💀💀💀💀💀
username lando...babe...
username no bc they DO shade eachother and roast eachother since they broke up but the fact that y/n tells all the ppl hating on lando to "shut the fuck up and get a fucking life" and lando straight up blocks them is so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username IT'S WHAT SHE WANTS
danielricciardo chuckles knowingly
-> landonorris WHAT DO YOU KNOW
-> danielricciardo NOTHING
-> landonorris WHAT
-> danielricciardo NOTHING OH MY GOD
username smirks
username good.
username yes cry abt it x
username the way "the 1" is literally them LIKE
-> username "it would've been fun if you could've been the one" 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
-> username CAN U HEAR ME CRYING
charles_leclerc this is interesting
-> landonorris ?
username lando being confused is sending me 😭😭😭😭😭😭
username y/n fr manifested this 💀💀💀
username IM GIGGLING THIS IS HILARIOUS
username someone send this to y/n
*liked by danielricciardo*
maxverstappen1 we get what you mean but please stop playing the 1
-> landonorris none can do sorry
username NOT LANDO PLAYING THE 1
username im so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username y/n is chuckling rn i can feel it
lilymhe this is interesting!
-> landonorris WHAT IS
username OH MY GOD
username them shading eachother while having the other person blocked is top tier comedy i cant
username the next race is gonna be so interesting I can't wait 🗣️🗣️🗣️
username PLEASE OMG
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername i bet you think about me
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username YEAH I BET U THINK ABOUT ME
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astrolynnworld · 3 months
Text
eiffle tower
pairing: matt & chris x reader
summary: chris sees the way you look at matt. so he gives you the opportunity to have both
warnings: smut! cheating, plot twist, exhibition, degradation, praise, language, oral, penetration, switch matt, dom chris, pig roast, little bit of aftercare.
a/n- the highly requested duo smut 😩
word count: 2,073
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i love chris so much but .. sometimes i can’t help the idea of “what if i had chose matt instead”
he carries himself so well and despite the fact that they’re triplets.. i really do see him as another version of chris
the version that is more tame.
whenever he sits with us at dinner and he just looks so pretty and proper
just eating his meal, observing the conversation, sharing a joke here and there.
he’s not too loud or quiet, he’s the perfect middle ground of enjoyable.
and he’s so caring towards me when chris isn’t around
he’s cooking? he’ll serve me first. dropped my phone? he’ll pick it up for me. too anxious to speak up? he’ll talk for me, regardless of the fact that he also has anxiety.
maybe it’s because i’m his brothers girlfriend but i just sense the underlying message of care
often times then not, chris will catch me staring off into a haze at matt.
i always have to play it off as if i just got lost in thought.
i mean i did get lost in thought..
the thought of matt’s eyes rolled back as i strok-
“y/n??” matt snaps me back into focus
“mhm?” i question as i stand at the fridge door aimlessly
“i think you dozed off again” he laughs slightly, “did you hear what i said?”
i shake my head no softly as i take a seat on the chairs behind me
“you okay?” he asks while inching closer and putting a hand on my shoulder
i look up at him standing over me
“i’m fine” i mutter out
“you’ve been out of it a lot lately. wanna know what would help?” he asks rhetorically
you.
“what?” i say before chris walks into the kitchen
“a hot tub?” chris answers, acknowledging that he had heard a bit of our conversation
“you always wanna go to the hot tub” i laugh as i switch my gaze to him
“it’s not the worst idea chris has had” matt remarks
“i could be down for a hot tub” i reply enthusiastically now that matt is down
“i’ll go ask nick if he wants to come while you guys get ready” matt says
“wait im coming with” chris follows behind matt
i walk back into the bedroom and roam around for something to wear
shortly after, chris comes back into the room
“nicks not coming, he has a fever” he informs as he tries to grab his swim shorts
i nod my head and sit on the bed as i watch him change
“see something you like?” he flirts as he slowly approaches me
“a whole lot” i smile as i look up to him for a kiss
“alright love birds. we can go now” matt comes in fully dressed
i grab my bag and quickly follow behind matt
our go to hot tub spot was at the warehouse, which was only 10 minutes away from their house
once we get there, matt grabs his key card so he can unlock the gate to the pool
we trail around the side of the pool and make our way to the hot tub
they both take off their shirts before stepping into the hot tub
i could see the masculine structure lining in their backs
the broadness of their shoulders
the width of their arms as they lean back against the wall of the hot tub
i’m so lucky that i at least get to fuck one of them bec-
“wait! i forgot my headphones at the warehouse last time. i need to grab them before i forget again” chris says in a hurry as he gets out the hot tub and makes his way back to the house
“and bring some towels please” matt shouts after him
“watch him come back with none” i chuckle at his attempt
“no yeah for sure. kids gonna come back with a pepsi and forgot what he even went in for” he says as we share a laugh
“how do you even put up with him?” he says in a curious manner
“what do you mean?” i question
he starts to inch closer from the other side of the hot tub
“i see how you act, you’re not like him. you’re polite.. clean.. civil.. well mannered. how do you put up with him?” he says while fully towering me
“i- we- well because i love him” i nervously speak
“do you love him? because i see the way you look at me y/n”
i freeze in my spot
“you think i don’t notice but i do. you’d rather be with me huh? you’d rather it be me that you lay with every night right?” he taunts over me
“me who fucks you to sleep? every. single. night.” he whispers into my ear
“matt what are you doing..” i shyly whisper out
“say it baby. say you want me instead” he puts his nose to mine
i look into his eyes, “i want you instead”
he closes the gap between our lips with passion
sloppily pulling away and going back in for more as he wraps his hands around my waist
i feed into the passion, feeling a fire of energy ignite in me
“i KNEW it.”
i heard a voice speak from above us
i jump back from matt’s arms as i look up to see an angry chris standing outside the hot tub
matt starts to slowly back away as chris gets back in the hot tub and comes straight for me
he grabs my throat, “you’re such a slut. making out with my brother when i’m less than 30 feet away? you thought i wouldn’t find out or you just didn’t care?” he asks
i stay silent as i try to release his grip from my throat. only making him squeeze harder
“you know.. i had a feeling you were a slut. that’s why i put him up to this”
————————————————————
earlier:
“wait i’m coming with” i followed behind matt
after y/n walks back to my room i stop matt in his tracks
“i might need you to do a weird favor for me.” i speak hesitantly
matt was a great brother but i don’t know how deep that great would go for me
“what?” he asks
“i need you to tempt y/n into cheating on me”
“.. why the fuck would i do that?” he questions
“i’ve been seeing the way she looks at you recently. i need to know if she would or wouldn’t fold”
he can hear the genuineness in my voice. i wouldn’t ask him to do something like this if i wasn’t serious
i still love her..
i just needed to know if she likes him or not, how far she was willing to go about it.
“alright bro. i’ll try” he says before continuing to walk up to nick’s room
————————————————————
present:
i gasp as i start to find it hard to breathe.
he lets go of my throat and pulls my hair back so i can look him in the eyes
“you wanna fuck my brother so bad right?”
he pulls my head back to matt
“here. have him”
he turns me around and bend me over in front of matt
“bro.. i don’t know about-“ matt starts to speak
chris grabs my throat and shrinks down to my face, “tell him how much you want him baby. tell him how you want him to put it in. beg for it”
i silently stare at him in shock of his new aggression
“tell him.” he slaps my cheek
“please put it in matt.” i turn back and speak
“beg him for it” chris continues
“please matt, i beg you. just put your cock inside me”
matt slides my bathing suit to the side and slowly starts to align himself with my hole despite the water making it hard to see
“good girl” chris speaks before placing a kiss on the cheek he just slapped
matt lets out a heavy breath as he slides himself along my walls
i gasp as i feel the added pressure
“feels good doesn’t it baby? feels good to be a slut right?” chris speaks
i nod my head with my pout
“say it baby. say it feels good to be a slut” chris adds in
“it feels good to be a slut” i whimper out as i back into matts cock while he meets me halfway
chris traces his fingers against my lips, “who’s slut are you?”
“yours chris. i do whatever you say” i whine out as i squint my eyes from the feeling of matt’s cock hitting against my cervix
“mhmm. so good for me baby” chris says as he pushes his fingers in my mouth for me to suck
i can faintly hear matt trying to hold back his moans and whimpered pleasure as he feels my walls suck him in
the tightness of my walls clenching and pulling around him as he struggles to identify wether it’s the warm silky wetness is from me, or the hot tub.
shutting his eyes to focus on the pleasure
chris on the other hand, is so turned on by the idea of me getting slutted out for his pleasure
he likes the idea of another man being able to enjoy me like he does
i can see the bulge peering out through his swim shorts
i couldn’t let him go attentionless so i free his cock and start to jerk it under the water
he pulls away from me and slaps me once again
“did i give you permission to touch me slut?”
i pout and shake my head no
he places his cock on my cheek, “fuck. i could cover your whole face baby”
“please put it in my mouth daddy” i beg, tired of the teasing
“you want me to face fuck you baby? you wanna be a good girl and let daddy face fuck you?” he rhetorically questions
“yes please. please put your cock in my mouth and use me to your pleasure” i whine out before he shoves his cock in my mouth and starts to fuck into me
it’s like every time chris pulls out of my mouth, matt pushes into my hole. and when chris pushes back in, matt pulls out
it was a back and forth train of stimulation that sent my head into a spiral
i lost all my thoughts and all i could focus on was the whines and whimpers that poured out of my mouth into chris’s cock
“fuck keep moaning baby. it feels so good around my cock” chris whines out
“you’re squeezing- around my cock y/n.. fuck i don’t know how much longer i’m gonna last.” matt throws his head back as he starts to speed up the pace, sending me flying into chris’s dick
i know im gonna cum soon. i just feel so dirty, getting fucked and stuffed by two brothers in a public hot tub. it felt so nasty and so wrong, i couldn’t help but think of how hot that was
and imagining if someone caught us. how gross and nasty they would think i am. how much of a slut im being right now. fuck i’m gonna cum
i squeeze around matts cock as i let out my orgasm.
as soon as i finish i feel matt pull out of me, followed by trickles of warm liquid splatter all over my back.
“you’re such a fucking slut baby. you let guys cum all over you? you like when guys treat you like a fucking toy and use you to their liking?” chris continues to degrade
“fuck i’m gonna cum baby.” he finishes his final thrusts before coating my throat with his cum
he pulls out and i sit up in the hot tub with a fucked out expression, not being able to think for myself.
tears dry up against my face from not being able to breathe
matt starts to fix and play with my hair while chris wipes my eyes
“it’s okay baby, i still love you” chris says as kisses into my lips
i don’t respond. still trying to regain my sense
“we should probably get her back to the house” matt suggests
“yeah. let’s go” chris adds before he picks me up and carries me back to the car in a cradle position.
————————————————————
a/n- hope yall enjoyed 😘 i put my back into this one fr
taglist: @sturniologirlfriend @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333
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WHEN??? teo you playing too much 🙈 i ghost you for like 3 days and i come back to this?????
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cosmoeticss · 1 year
Text
Haven’t I Been Good to You? | Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (18+)
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my masterlist
Words: 2K
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Neice!Pregnant!Reader
Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), good old fashioned targcest, p n v, overall bad writing because I haven’t properly written in so long
Note: Reader is Rhaenyra’s heir/eldest daughter and the argument takes place after the dinner scene. I tried not to use any physical descriptors but those gorgeous targaryen platinum locks so I hope thats okay and you enjoy. Literally crawling in my skin right now because I’m about to post this, existing is an embarrassment, if you see this ily thank you for reading.
part two
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Aemond was anything but cooled off when he returned to his marital chambers that night. He bound into the room, his displeasure from the night clear in his body language and his labored breathing. His wife sat stoically in front of her vanity, clad in only her night dress as she combed through the length of her silky, silver curls.
Aemond stared her down in disbelief as she barely acknowledged him. How could she honestly be angry with him? It was her bastard brothers who started the disagreement, who started the rivalry to begin with, who teased him their whole childhood and took his eye that fateful night on Driftmark. And here she sat, his wife, shoulders back and proud and angry with him.
Gods, she was beautiful when she was angry. If he didn't know her so well he wouldn't be able to tell. She was so serene and regal and surprisingly calm when she was upset. He often thought of how opposite they were in that sense. He thought of how hot tempered and quick to snap he was, and how she thought everything through before it slipped from her pretty lips. He envied this about her, and yet it was what he had loved most about her as well.
Aemond couldn't help it. He broke first. "Where are the children?" He inquired, steadying himself to the best of his ability.
She hardly gave him the time of day as she answered, her eyes not leaving her own reflection. "I've settled them into bed,” she said.
The Prince furrowed his brow. "Did you not think that I would wish to bid goodnight to my sons?"
"The hour is late. They've had their fill of excitement for the day, Husband."
Husband. Not her usual 'my dearest love,' not 'my darling.' He was in trouble far more than what he had bargained for. He eyed her in disbelief. "You're truly taking their side?"
She finally turned then, vast (e/c) eyes meeting his violet one. "There is no side to be taken, Aemond,” he hated her formality when they argued, "We are a family. We're supposed to be on the same side. Did you see how pleased the poor King was to see everyone finally getting along? Our mothers finally found some common ground after all of these years and yet you ruined an otherwise pleasant night with your wounded pride."
"My wounded pride?" he spat harshly, raising his voice at her. "Did you not see the way your beloved brother laughed as they sat a roasted pig in front of me? Or have you forgotten the torment I was subject to as a child? What do you expect to me to do, (Y/N)?"
She stood then, the silk of her long night dress accentuating her rounded stomach. "You are to be the Royal Consort one day, you will be King!" she scolded him sternly, silencing him. "I expect you to be the bigger person. I expect you to act with dignity and not meet the teasing of a child with the ferocity that you did tonight!"
Aemond softened at this, turning away from her to face the burning embers of the hearth. He did not retaliate, only moving to sit in a chair placed in front of it. He gripped the arms of the seat trying to calm himself, breathing deeply.
His wife watched him carefully. "It is not fair. I know it isn't," she swallowed, her eyes glazed over as she did. "I know that it angers you that I love my family after all my brothers have done to you, after what Lucerys has taken from you and I am sorry, Aemond. I truly am."
He was silent still, eye glued to the flames before him as if they were the most important thing in the room. "I cannot keep atoning for crimes I did not commit," her voice was almost pleading as she stepped closer to him then, slowly, testing the water carefully. When he did not retaliate,  she kneeled on the floor in front of him. "I know that you would not have chosen me to wed on our own, dear husband."
Her hands reached out to take his, and he allowed it, watching down the bridge of his nose as his wife gently held his hands in her small ones and brought them both to her lips, kissing them tenderly and repeatedly. "We have been honest and good to each other in these near seven years as man and wife, though," she stated, eyes wide and pleading as she rested her chin on his knee. "Have I not been a good to you?"
"You have," Aemond's voice cracked, his eyes fluttering shut at her soft inquisition. He breathed deeply, removing one of his hands from hers and carding it through her beautiful hair. “My love.”
"I have given you my body, mind, and soul. I have given you my virtue, and my fidelity. My heart has only ever belonged to you," she whispered as her husbands tensity began to dissolve between her nimble fingers and lips. Her soft kisses continuing slowly up his arm. "I have bore you two beautiful, healthy boys. Boys that will be Kings and Warriors one day, and I carry another inside me."
The air was stolen from her as Aemond halted her pecking and surged forward, lifting her swiftly from the stone floor to straddle his lap as if she weighed nothing. She gazed down at him, moving to gently remove her husbands eye patch. He hadn't minded the action for years now, as it was a bother to wear and his pretty wife had never judged his appearance or what he had lost all those years ago. She set the patch on the end table next to them, not taking her eyes off of him as her hands slid up his shoulders and found their home at his jawline. Her thumbs moved in slow circles on his face.
"I have given you power," he whimpered at this, gripping the soft meat of her thighs. "Outside the walls of this chamber you are my equal, and one day we will rule the Seven Kingdoms side by side, however we see fit to."
"Yes," he groaned hoarsely, continuing his kneading at her thighs, sitting up to press his lips to her throat, leaving hot opened mouth kisses down her neck to the swell of her breasts as he detangled the strings of her shift, baring her supple chest to him.
"You would like that wouldn't you, My King?" Aemond growled in agreement, continuing his ravishing as she slipped her fingers to the base of his neck and weaved them into his hair, gripping it tightly. "And in this room, you will rule me as you see fit."
"If that we're true then I would bound you to our bed, little wife," he sank his teeth delicately into the flesh of her breast, tongue swirling against the skin, causing her head to snap back in pleasure and a breathy moan to fall from her lips. "You would never leave these chambers. Who would be left to rule if I'm buried inside this sweet cunt for all of our lives, hmm?"
"You have many years before we are crowned for me to ride you, my dragon. And I plan to mount you morning and night,” she grinding into him, their lips meeting finally in a messy kiss. "Surely you'll tire of bedding me by then."
"Never," he pressed his forehead to hers, their breathing hot as he moved a large slender hand to cover her swollen stomach. "I enjoy no sight more than your belly swollen with our children."
She rutted her hips against his once more, her weeping cunt begging for friction. "Please, my dearest love"
"I wonder how the realm would feel if they knew the truth of their precious Princess?" he smirked as she fucked herself on his covered length. "If they knew how she begged for me each night? How wet she gets without me even having to touch her."
"Aemond, please," she wined.
"You wish to ride your dragon, my Queen?" he began hiking up her night dress to rest on her hips.
She panted at his movements, so tender, so achingly slow and teasing. "Yes," she whimpered.
He cocked his brow at her. "What's stopping you? Claim me then."
She didn't have to be told twice. Her trembling hands moved frantically to the strings of his pants, unfastening them and pulling them down to his thighs. He hissed as she took his length into her hand, stroking it sweetly before he lifted her hips and guided her to sink down on him. Her eyes screwed shut, crying out in pleasure as she adjusted to the size of him. Neither of them moved for a moment, their breathing tense and labored.
Aemond brushed a lock of hair out of his wife's face, her forehead falling to meet his as he cradled her head with his hand. "Alright?"
"Mhm," she hummed needily, bracing herself as her hands dropped to his shoulders. Aemond's free hand moved to cover the swell of her stomach, a lazy grin forming on his lips, before finding it's way to her hips once more, helping to roll them against his. Aemond cursed, his jaw going slack as his wife unraveled above him. Once she found her footing, she picked up her pace, bobbing up and down steadily, her finger nails curling into his shoulders. His hips snapped up to meet hers, and she cried out, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. Something came undone in him at the sound, his hands were everywhere then, cupping her full breasts, wrapped around her throat, sinking into her thighs. He was pawing at her like she would disappear if he let go for one second, grunting like a wild animal as he rutted against her.
"So good," he captured her lips in a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth clashing. "So pretty and all mine."
She babbled something nonsensical in appraisal, her heat clenching around his cock as he worshipped her, their movements becoming sloppy as they approached their peak. "I'm so close."
"Say you love me," he demanded, fingers making their way to her pearl as he toyed with it, causing her to squeak at the touch. "Tell me again that you're mine and mine alone."
"Please," she panted, whimpering as he fucked into her relentlessly, hitting her sweet spot with each thrust. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou."
Aemond's fingers were torture, slow and taunting. "Say it." "I'm yours," she cried out. "Only yours. Please--"
"Let go," he permitted, following close behind as she toppled over the edge, back arching and eyes rolling back as she was overcome with pleasure. They were still, chests heaving and hot breath mingling as they came down from their shared orgasm. Her nimble fingers tangled into his hair, brushing it away from his sweat soaked neck. He fell back into the chair, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. "I would've chosen you," he broke the silence after a long moment. She lifted her head slightly to look him in the eye, confusion evident as if she had not registered what he said. "When you said that you weren't the wife I would have chosen for myself. If I had been presented with a choice, I would've chosen you."
Her gaze softened at the sincerity and raw emotion flickering in his eye. "Then choose me now. Choose our family," she gripped his shirt tightly, pleading with him. "Love me more than you hate them."
Aemond sighed deeply, covering her hands with his. "I do love you. More than anything."
"Then promise you will try." Neither wanted to admit what they both knew, that even if he did, it was too late. The King's health dwindled more and more by the day, and the wounds cut between the Greens and the Blacks were too old and too deep for even their love to heal. The time was coming where they would have to choose. War was looming and their last chance at peace had slipped through their fingers like flowing water. So they didn't, and chose in silence to carry on pretending while they still could.
Aemond cupped her face gently, and pulled her into a soft, sweet kiss. "I promise," he whispered, the sweetest of lies, and he met her lips again in a more fervent kiss.
And she let herself hope, she let her self believe, just a little while longer.
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fallenneziah · 6 months
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Sharing is caring.
Summary: Teasing your husband John while he's busy with work was already a risky move, but coming to see him while he's with his lieutenant... Even riskier.
Cw: spit roasting, oral (m! And f! receiving), teasing, dirty talk, Price sharing his beautiful wife. Afab reader, reader uses she/her. Multiple orgasms, pet names, overstimulation.
Nearly 4k, another thing I guess that could count for kinktober. Enjoy?
Admittedly, you shouldn't have been texting John while you knew he would be at work. But you were feeling yourself and wanted to send him the necessary photos to include him. John knew you were not above teasing him, no matter what the workday would be like.
So when his phone went off again, he had to do his best to ignore it, swishing his shallow glass of whiskey while thumbing through a record report with Ghost.
Although it did get his mind wandering, thinking about what it could be this time. If you were in that new lingerie, or if you'd ditched your clothes altogether to show him what he wanted.
He huffed to push away the thought, taking another sip of whiskey and placing the glass down gently.
"They made it to the waypoint before they had to turn back." Ghost said, finding photos from the back folder and pulling them out. "That rock perch we had was completely blown. I guess they were spotted and not spared…"
Price didn't have the option to reply before the second of silence was cut by the sound of his phone. He hummed, finally picking up his phone and seeing the photo you had sent him. For the love of… You're going to send him crazy. And he didn't know if it was good yet.
He placed his phone back down and shook his head softly, naughty girl.
"Sorry, I should've turned that off." He murmured, looking down at the report once more. "Did they find anything?"
"A couple of guns." Ghost answered, flipping over the paper and placing it down for the two to share.
Price nods, clicking his tongue thoughtfully as he reads.
The two continued to talk, unaware that just down the hall, you were cooking up ideas in your head. Looking at your tight military uniform. Oh, you could wear it. Not as if seeing you fully clothed didn't get John hard anyway.
You'd been teasing him all morning, and now you were planning to head to his office for a little mid-work quickie.
You slipped out of the room, looking down the hall before heading for the office. Your hips had a particular sway, knowing John had to be tensely waiting for you.
You made it to his door and listened, hearing him talking. If he was on the phone, then you had the double advantage.
Without a second thought, you entered. "John~ baby-" you managed to cut your script off when you saw Ghost sitting in the chair across the desk, looking at you expectantly.
Price leaned forward in his chair and cleared his throat. "Love, I'm a little busy right now."
You blushed softly, nodding and attempting to back away, but John's familiar whistle kept you.
He motioned you over to his side, keeping his eyes on you, even though Ghost would burn his gaze through you.
You closed the door and came to his side, his hand resting on your hip, running smooth circles over it.
Your hand gently combed through John's hair, his hand moving from your hip up against your belt, slipping it inside the fabric. You gasped softly, biting your lip in anticipation as his fingers pulled your panties and slipped past.
Ghost's body language didn't give away that he knew. He didn't give away anything, actually.
They just continued to mutter and mull over their paperwork again, John making a 2% effort to give you the attention you sought.
It made your cunt clench, shifting back into his hand as his wrist made it into your pants, middle finger slowly circling over your slit, feeling the juices building up between your labia from your excitement.
Your grip on his hair tightened as his finger finally pressed over your clit, making you moan. You knew Ghost wasn't stupid. And he knew you two well enough to know something was happening.
But it didn't make you feel guilty for being so open about your pleasure.
Ghost remained, not saying a word about it, however. Even as you felt yourself melting into John's side, hips shifting to help get his fingers where you wanted them to go.
Your eyelids fluttered when he pressed his finger against your clit, circling briefly and pulling back to run his fingers through your slick mess.
And yet you felt annoyed you weren't getting even half the attention you wanted. You knew he was busy, but now he was teasing you back. As if telling you to be patient or be bold enough to do something about it.
And oh, how you wished you could have stood there and taken his teasing back like a champ. But you couldn't, not like this. You hadn't spent all morning for his attention, only to get off on his hand subconsciously. No, no, no.
You shifted your body, leaning into his ear and nuzzling his cheek. "John…"
He chuckled lowly, his middle finger rubbing your clit softly and making you sigh.
"Yes, my love?" He murmured back, looking down at his paperwork and writing a few notes.
You groaned softly, feeling your legs shake. "John…please, baby."
"You'll have to be specific, my darling."
Ghost grunts over the paperwork, looking up from the photos to you two. John, he wasn't ashamed. He was protective, but the idea of sharing his wife with a close man. When being such a slut for his attention. It didn't bother him.
John looked at Ghost, who shifted his gaze away.
"Why don't we take a little break, Ghost. We'll come back to this later."
Ghost nodded understandingly. "Yes, sir." He moved to stand, but Price stopped him. "That won't be necessary."
Ghost raised an eyebrow, and you as well, feeling your breath hitch to suppress your whine.
Price smirked a little, working his finger across your slit, dipping his fingers into your cunt to tease your sloppy, needy hole.
"Always so needy… It's like she wants the attention two of me could give her…"
He looked at Ghost, who returned his gaze. When Ghost made no move to leave or dismiss himself to give them privacy, John took it as acceptance. And Ghost knew he wouldn't get pushed away.
Your cheeks feel a bit warmer, hips squirming when John's finger makes it to your warm insides, but pull away all too soon.
He hums, looking at his slick fingers. "Pants off, love." Your face flushes a little warmer, looking between them.
"John-"
"Pants off, princess, be nice and good for me."
You shudder under his voice, finding yourself resigning and unbuckling your belt in seconds, tearing down the zipper and stepping out of them, leaving you in your panties and top.
John hums, moving the files and papers away, clearing his laptop and nodding toward the desk, to which you comply.
John stands, pushing you back against the cold wood, his lips finding yours as his hands mess with the buttons of your shirt, groaning and pulling them open. The ends hanging over your shoulders, falling across your wrists.
"So pretty…" he hummed, moving to undo his own pants.
Ghost watched, the growing bulge in his pants giving him away.
John noticed, smiled at him and held a hand out for him, offering him his spot.
Ghost preferred to stay seated, feeling his pants straining with you pushed under Price like that. And John continued, kissing you and taking your bra off, strong hands massaging and cupping your soft breasts. Pushing them together and pulling away so he could suck one of your nipples.
You moan softly, gasping out his name happily.
Ghost's eyes bore into your back, palming his crotch, watching you two mingle.
Price wouldn't force Ghost, but just the extra pair of eyes got his cock a lot harder than he first expected.
You looked gorgeous and needy like this, and Price could tell Ghost agreed.
You inhaled deeply, feeling John pushing you back, his hands firmly spreading your legs wide as he pulled your panties down.
Your hands gripped the edge of the desk as Price kneeled down in front of you, pulling your hips forward again so you were just perfect.
Your eyes focused on him, watching him lean in, his beard making you shiver as his tongue flicked and curled up and down, reaching your slit. Your eyelids fluttered as he cared for you, mouth working away the slick puddling from your core.
You whimpered, gripping the desk tighter. A shadow fell over you, and you looked up, moaning when you saw Ghost. He shuffled forward, forcing your back straight as his chest pressed against you, his gloves off so he could feel your soft breasts.
His hands were larger and rougher, his touch feeling different than John's. Groping and pinching at the supple flesh, tugging at your nipple while John licked away.
You could barely contain yourself, panting and moaning from their combined touch on your skin. Ghost's eyes glued to you, playing with you as if this was the first time he'd touched someone. And yet his hands moved skillfully against the hard buds of your breasts, squeezing and pinching in a way that makes your cunt ache.
John's hands held your thighs, pulling your legs wider as his mouth worked you. Your toes curling from the sensation.
"Oh please, oh god…" you gasped, feeling yourself reaching the peak.
You looked down at your husband between your legs, his mouth working its magic blissfully and effortlessly. He knew your ins and outs, the spots that made you tick.
Combined, they were making short work of you.
The only noises in the room were John's muffled grunts and your moans of desperation for where they were taking you.
You moaned louder, trying to buck your hips to get yourself to the finish line, but their combined weight held you in place, Ghost's hands pinning your shoulders and holding you steady, John's hands holding your thighs open wide.
You were at their mercy, trying to wiggle out in vain, strong hands keeping you down.
Ghost's warm breath hit your neck, the fabric of his mask pressing against it, whispering just out of reach of your ear.
"Bein' such a good slut, sweetheart."
You shivered, exhaling harshly, your eyes moving from John to try and look at Ghost. His hand took your chin, thumb pressing to your bottom lip, and he turned your face away, back to John.
"Focus on what Price is doin', love."
His voice made your stomach drop, his words hitting your ears like honey.
John's tongue circled over your clit, pressing his nose against your mound, his eyes fluttering closed, taking a deep breath.
You couldn't help but whimper.
Ghost chuckles softly, his hand still holding your jaw, his other moving down your body and groping your breast once more.
"John…" You whimpered, squirming. Price looked up at you, kissing your clit and pulling away briefly, his lips warm with your juices.
"You're doing so good, Princess, so good."
"She's a fuckin' whore ain't she Price?"
John smiles, humming his agreement and turning his gaze to Ghost.
"She'll take any attention she can get. Ain't that right, love?"
You look into his eyes, wanting him, to be near him. You'd take attention, only if he would give it. You admit you were a slut for any attention he'd offer you.
Ghost chuckles, his hands moving up and down your sides, his breath hot.
"I'd say she's a good little slut."
"Good little slut." John echoes, leaning back down and sucking your clit, his teeth brushing the sensitive nerves, tongue flicking through your labia.
You continue to squirm, lips parting from your orgasm being so close. Feeling Ghost's breaths, his hands dragging over your breasts and flicking your nipples. Whispering words in your ears that make your stomach twist like a knot.
"John, please…" You pant breathlessly.
"Please?" He asks, pulling away, his beard dripping with your slick. "What does my girl need? You want to cum?"
You nod frantically.
"Use your words, my love."
"Please- please, John, make me cum, I need to." You whine. "Please… Please." Your eyes fill with pleasured tears, welling you just shy of spilling. His fingers tease your slit, circling just enough to give you friction before pushing in.
"There's my girl." He rubs your clit with his thumb, slipping his fingers deep into your slit, making you arch and whine.
"C'mon, princess. Be a good little whore for me and cum on my hand."
"Fuck!"
Ghost holds your wrists down, watching you buck and writhe, feeling yourself reach the edge.
You cum on Price's fingers, feeling him tight inside you, warm cum spilling down over him. He hums in satisfaction, rubbing your slit gently. "That's it…"
You shiver and shake, breathing heavily. And still not feeling satisfied. John sits back in his chair, undoing his belt and pants, pulling out his cock and stroking it firmly.
Ghost continued to keep you still, his chest pressed to you while you watched John. His cock was leaking pre-cum, swollen from anticipation.
"On your knees, sweetheart. Why don't we let the lieutenant have some fun of his own."
You whimper, attempting to look up at Ghost, but his hand pushes your head away gently, nudging and urging you across the desk to a new position, stomach flat across the hardwood.
Ghost looked down at your dripping pussy, running his fingers over your labia. He plays with your wetness a moment, slapping your ass gentler than you would have expected.
Price hummed, stepping forward, smacking his hard cock against your cheek gently. "You look so good like this, love…"
You look up at him with that precious look in your eyes, opening your mouth when he cupped your jaw, pressing his cock in against your tongue.
"Atta girl- there it is." He grunts, sliding into your mouth.
Ghost rubs your ass, squeezing the soft flesh between his hands. Finally, undoing his belt and his zipper, freeing his cock from his jeans.
His eyes remain locked on your body, stroking his cock and rubbing the length against your ass. Cock drooling in need, salty pre-cum leaking across your plump ass.
He takes his chance, pushing his fat tip against your dripping slit, teasingly rubbing his cock between your wet lips, gathering up your slick.
You moan around John, his hips thrusting shallowly. You look up at him, keeping your eyes on your husband, one hand gripping the desk, the other on his hip. John's hand resting under your chin, his cock sliding into you. "Look at you, my good girl… Always my good girl."
Ghost groans, feeling himself slip in easier. Feeling his cock get soaked by your tight cunt, his grip on your hips tightening.
"Shit."
John looked at Ghost, watching him, his hips thrusting slowly. "Feel how good she is? How wet?"
"Fuck…" Ghost's head tilted back, his hands moving up your waist, his hips snapping harder, making you moan louder, vibrating around John's cock.
They work in tandem, soon finding a rhythm, Ghost's hips slowly riding in and out of your tight, wet cunt. John slid his cock further down your throat, helping you relax and take him, seeing your helpless expression.
"Fuckin' hell…" Ghost groans, exhaling softly, smacking your ass and squeezing the flesh between his fingers again.
You whine around John, looking up at him with teary eyes and seeing his lustful gaze.
"You're doing so good, my love. Fuck." He groaned, his head tilting back as you sucked his cock, working your tongue along the underside of his cock, swallowing spit and pre-cum. Choking along his length and trying to relax again as he pushes deeper, hitting the back of your throat and sliding you along.
Your back arches, feeling Ghost's hips pick up a little, cock driving into your tight cunt, watching his length disappear into your dripping, desperate cunt.
He was getting to fuck his Captains wife… Fuck, you'd think it only happens in porn, and yet here he is. With your tight cunt wrapped around him. A cunt claimed by Price shared with him. Such a good cunt at that. Hearing you choking down Price's cock makes him harder, his hands wrapping tightly around your quivering hips.
Your thighs trembled, your cunt squeezing him, begging him for more.
"Christ."
John pulls away, stroking his cock as you whine and whimper, his cock throbbing, watching Ghost fuck you.
Pre-cum and saliva still connecting your mouth to his cock, more of it dripping down your face as he strokes himself, seeing Ghost starting to pick up his pace. His hand comes down across your ass, making you whine again.
It felt so good. In a way, it felt sinful and yet, seeing how much John enjoyed watching you get fucked made it all worthwhile.
Ghost's grunts are getting louder, his breath hitching. "Fuckin' hell.."
"You gonna cum, Lieutenant?"
Ghost's hand moves down between your thighs, fingers working against your clit, feeling you clench around him.
He grunts in acknowledgement, spanking your ass. Admittedly it had been a bit, but the idea of cumming in your cunt made him bristle in utter arousal. Especially of a woman who doesn't belong to him. His cock throbbing inside your pussy, eyelids fluttering as he fucks his hips into you.
You gasp when he forces you onto the desk, grabbing your hair and forcing your gaze up. You moan, Price stroking his cock against your cheek.
Ghost's thrusts grow more and more erratic, his breathing laboured. "Fuck…" he hissed, pushing you down harder, fucking his hips into yours.
"Fuck fuck-" his grip on your hair tightens, making you moan loudly, gasping out John's name. Ghost grits his teeth, slamming balls deep into you before pulling out, shooting his cum across your back, splattering along your spine.
"Fuck…" He pulls away, slowly stroking his cock, watching you pant and whimper.
Price's smile only grows. "Good girl, love." He caresses your cheek, grabbing your underarms and pulling you off the desk. You pant, your pussy dripping, feeling fucked out just from that, but you aren't done.
Price sits on his chair, pulls his pants down and urges you onto his lap. He turns you, your back to his chest, and he lines his cock up with your cunt, pressing his length into you.
You shudder and whine, arching into him as he grips your hips, helping lift you up and down along his cock.
You rest your head against his shoulder, his hands groping your breasts as you bounce along his cock.
"Look at him, Princess. Look at how well you took him." He hummed, his breath fanning over your face, feeling his warm touch against your skin.
You pant, trying to hold your head up as you slide along John's cock. Your eyelids flutter, and your breathing is heavy. "John…."
"You've always been a good little girl." He groaned, his teeth grazing your ear lobe, nipping at it and hearing you whimper.
"You like this, don't you, love?"
You nod, swallowing thickly and trying to relax around his cock. Ghost finally approaches as his cock recovers, stroking it and getting down on his knees before you, sucking your breasts as Price fucks you.
You moaned louder, feeling overwhelmed by the attention, having both of them and loving it.
John's hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing, not choking, just holding. Your hands move, one to his hand, the other to Ghost's mask, tugging the fabric gently.
He sucks your breasts, stroking his cock as well. Price continued to bounce you on his cock steadily, hearing your moans and groans. Panting and whimpering.
"Fuck, Princess. You're so good." John groans, squeezing your throat a bit, feeling your body shiver.
Ghost's cock twitches, a few drops of precum dripping down to his hand.
"Oh god…" you whimpered, jerking away from Ghost's mouth.
Ghost leans up, watching you.
"You like it…" Price hums, his hand moving to your ass. "You like it, Princess? Having both of us fucking you…"
"Fuck you're tight, princess." He grunts.
"Go ahead, love. Cum."
His cock throbbing, feeling you clench around him, and God, you just whimper and mewl, feeling him slide in so deep and cumming, coating his cock with your cum.
"Mm, fuck…"
"That's my girl." He continues to thrust, his hips snapping up, cock throbbing, cumming into your tight cunt.
You whimper again, just having his cock inside you, making you feel full.
"Such a good girl." John hums, kissing your neck, sucking softly, making you shudder.
Price lifts your leg, pulling you off his cock and stroking it across your ass. You gasp, breath hitching. "John-"
His cock presses against your asshole, grunting and forcing you down. "Shh, easy baby, Easy, love." He cooes to you.
"Fuck!" You yelp, feeling John's hand squeezing your neck a little as he grips your hips tight to his own.
"Fuck, Princess…" he groans.
You groan, arching into him, your body shivering.
Ghost strokes his cock, watching you get fucked in the ass and hearing your whimpers.
"You can take it, love."
You whimper, but you feel his cock spreading you open a little, the head of his cock sliding through your walls. It feels so good. So full. So dirty. Ghost jerks his cock faster, watching your trembling frame as his Captain's cock slides into your ass.
"You like it, Princess?"
"I can feel you're excited, my love." He chuckles, Ghost groaning at the sight of her. "Look at him. Look at how much he likes watching me fuck you."
You gasp, your eyes fluttering. The feeling is intense, so much so that you can't think of much else. You feel like you could cum again it feels that good.
Ghost leans in, pushing your thighs apart more, hooking them over Price's and sinks his mouth onto your abused cunt. You jerk and cry when he licks and sucks on your clit. Price chuckles softly, kissing your throat. "Easy, princess. Taking it so well…"
You whined, tears stinging your eyes from the overstimulation. It felt so good, being between them, having them treating you like this.
"I-I can't!" You cry, but John gently silences you, stroking your throat. His cock continues to ram into you, stretching you nicely around him.
Ghost's tongue lapped through your labia, flicking your clit and swirling around your slit. You jerked your hips again, convulsing and cumming again, what little you had left in you sloppily dripping from your fluttering slit.
John's hips settled, rubbing your thigh slowly. "There…"
Ghost leaned back, wiping his lip with his thumb. Having cum a second time, seed dripped down his cock and onto the floor.
John had one hand keeping you firmly still in his lap. You panted and squirmed, but didn't fight. He grabbed some tissues from his desk and handed them to Ghost, who did his best to clean himself and the floor.
Price then grabbed the file and his computer again. Ghost zipped up his pants, fixed his mask and sat back down across from you both, legs parted, watching Price.
Your cunt clenched, having just been utterly railed, and now they were back to business.
Price poured another whiskey into their cups and swallowed his back, sighing softly. You leaned into John's neck, and they continued with their work.
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sukunasteeth · 22 days
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Wrestle Me
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Tokyo had reached record temperatures that day. The sun was roasting the city, every street was a mirage from the bending light of its shine. The weather recently had been sending everyone either inside or to the nearest water source.
Yuji had gone to the beach with Megumi and Nobara in a futile attempt to escape the heat that had Japan in the sweaty palm of its hand. They had offered you and Sukuna a spot on the railway car there, but you knew that Sukuna was too exhausted from his recent missions to do any sort of going out. Not to mention the draining effect of the heat stacked on top of that. You were in the mood to just enjoy each other's presence.
The two of you were sheltered away in the darkness of his bedroom, lying sprawled out across the floor in front of his small rotating fan. Sukuna and Yuji never turned the A/C on. Since they had moved into their own apartment, the brothers had become rather stingy when it came to the bills. The air didn't start up until the room felt like a sauna, and it turned off much too soon to give relief.
Sweat continued to drip down the both of your spines, but Sukuna didn't seem to mind it. He was enjoying the peace of his day off, dressed against the heat in nothing but his boxer briefs and a tank top. He had his head resting in the cushion of your lap, his eyes were transfixed on an old leather notebook that he had stolen from one of the professors a few days ago. It was in a language you hadn't taken at the academy yet, but Sukuna tells you it was early notes on jujutsu from the old world.
You had been scrolling through your phone, occasionally showing him something you found amusing or anything that reminded you of him. He only gave you a reaction to maybe 10% of the material, but it was fun to see him roll his eyes, or scoff and wave your phone away.
The longer you remained in the same spot,however, the sweatier you felt and the more frustrated with the heat. You tried not to squirm under Sukuna's head, remaining as still as possible as though he were a sleeping animal taking refuge on your lap. Boredom, however, eventually pulls the last straw that has you stirring.
An idea comes to mind.
Sukuna glances up at you, as though he expects you to show him something else on your phone, but instead his attention is caught by the mischievous glint you feel twinkling in your eye.
"Wrestle me." You beam at him.
It was somewhat of a joke.
Compared to your boyfriend, it was clear who would win in a pinning tournament between the two of you.
 Sukuna, who enjoys kickboxing in his spare time. Sukuna, who has never missed an opportunity for a fight in the decade that you've known him, who could dead-lift your torso with ease if he so desired.
Sukuna, who has never touched you with anything but heart wrenching gentleness.
His eyes widen at your command, the notebook he had previously found so interesting has been completely forgotten. He seems to catch the drift of your lack of entertainment, and quickly plays along. His surprise melts into an amused little smile.
"Oh yeah? Think you got a chance, kid?" He taunts, placing the book beside him. His attention now fully focused on you.
You snort, you were only a year younger than he was, but he loved to emphasize it when he could. Sukuna mistakes your noise as a scoff and cocks a daring brow at you.
You love when he’s in a playful mood.
"I could take you any day." You tease. Part of you is running for the hills inside, but another part is having fun with the big bad wolf. That was the constant state you were in with him. Sukuna didn't even have to try and he always had your heart racing.
Sukuna makes an impressed noise, "That, I'm well aware of. I don't know about in a fight, though."
You groan at his joke, shaking your head in disappointment, but Sukuna grabs onto your chin before you can get even one turn of your head out.
"Let's find out."  
~
Ten minutes later, you're drenched in twice the amount of sweat as you were before, but Sukuna has barely lost a drop. He's got you twisted like a pretzel beneath him, holding your limbs in just the right way so that you're completely incapacitated in his hands.
Your first mistake was thinking Sukuna knew how to play-fight. The only person he had been remotely close with in your childhood was his twin brother, and the two of them had often "wrestled", but it only ended when one of them had blood dripping out of their noses. You learned early on not to question it. Having two boys as your childhood best friends had you turning your gaze from a lot of things, in fact.
The only thing you questioned now, was how you were going to get out of your current predicament. You were sure Sukuna was having a blast practically hogtying you with his hands, and now he knew how easy it was to get you in this position. It was a double whammy that would surely effect you in the future. 
"Did you really think I'd go easy on you?" The weight of his chest presses into your back as he leans over you, sending hot breath over your neck. "How cute."
"Okay, okay! I give!" You whine, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. You had to admit that it was getting slightly painful, but Sukuna was well aware of your pressure points and where to stay away from. You still had one last trick up your sleeve, however.
Satisfied with your surrender, he nips at your ear with his teeth before he slides off of you and relinquishes his effortless grip. Before he can fully turn away, however, you're leaping onto his back like a monkey and tackling him into his mattress. It was a dirty tactic, but you had been wrestling your childhood best friend Yuji since the two of you were in elementary school, so you were no stranger to tricks of the trade. Especially the feign defeat card.
He blinks up at you. It was a difficult task to take Sukuna off guard, but you had accomplished it.
"Sucker." You playfully stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry. Inside your chest, your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s wings. It’s almost like Sukuna knows this, because even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s still looking at you with an amused grin- unaffected by your change of position. 
"You have a higher pain tolerance than I thought you did." He notes, tilting his head to the side like he's considering something. "What can we do with that new information, I wonder?" 
It was another intimidation tactic. A good one. It had chills running down your spine. But, you weren’t going to let him win so easily this time. Suddenly, you were interested in how far you could push him, as well. 
"Come on 'Kuna," You chide, your nose is practically touching his- a rabbit pressing against the snout of a hungry wolf. "Can't take defeat, my love?"
"Oh doll," His voice is a husky drawl, rough hands slide their way from their resting places on your hips to slip under the hem of your shirt and brush the skin of your waist. You try to contain your shiver. "You're playing a very dangerous game."
One last wave of confidence sweeps through you as you lean down, just like he always did, to murmur lowly into his ear. "And you're losing."
That did it.
Sukuna grabs onto your waist so quickly, you barely have time to register it before he loops his leg around your knee and easily flips the two of you back to your original position. You're giggling beneath him as he gathers your face into his hands, pressing calloused fingers into your cheeks. You've gotten under his impenetrable skin. You didn't know it, but you always did.
No matter how strong a man is, he will always lose to the woman he loves.
Sukuna was slowly starting to accept that.
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Rainy Season - Part 5
I Want Crazy
Azriel Eris x Reader
After a promotion to an emissary position by a meddling Tarquin, Y/N and Eris get much, much closer.
A/n: There will likely only be a couple more chapters of this fic. For those of you concerned by the previous chapter, please continue to trust the process. Our girl is intelligent.
Part 4 Part 6
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Warnings: Language, brief mention of fertility struggles
Our first date, the seasons changed. It got washed away in a summer rain
He wasn’t what I expected, Eris Vanserra. Not that I ever fathomed what to expect or even considered it. In fact there was only a very short list of things I knew prior to the day we met:
-He was a High Lord.
-He’d been a secretive ally of the Night Court prior to his father’s demise.
-Azriel fucking hated him.
And after that day I knew everything I needed to:
-He was warm beyond the fire in his veins
-He was a just ruler
-He had a dry wit that sat well with my soul.
-I wanted to see him again.
After dancing that night, we ran back to Tarquin’s palace in the rain. It was the first time I’d been unable to contain my joy in far too long. I laughed, and skipped, and spun in circles the whole way back. Eris grumbled the entire way but I could see the amusement lit in his eyes. The next morning he met me for breakfast and found me again before he left for the Autumn Court.
He began finding reasons to visit the Summer Court more frequently and sought me out every time. It was no time before Eris became a close friend.
Tarquin - ever the cheeky, wonderful bastard - only gave me knowing smiles when he’d catch us walking the palace grounds. According to Cresseida, The High Lord of the Summer Court was quite the romantic and had a knack for playing matchmaker. I was inclined to agree considering that after a month of spotting Eris and I around the grounds, Tarquin made a proposition to me. I could still teach my classes but he needed a temporary emissary to the Autumn court as they negotiated border, trade, and tariff agreements. Given my recent closeness with the High Lord of Autumn and overall wonderful (debatable) disposition, he found me to be the perfect candidate. With that, I found myself on official court business in the Autumn Court.
Who cares if you’re all I think about?
I was nervous on the first visit to Autumn. I knew things were different under Eris’ reign but the stories of Beron’s cruelty within his own keep were enough to warrant a bit of caution.
My worries were quickly cast aside when Eris personally escorted me from the border and to his keep. The Autumn Court was stunning. The leaves on the trees were brighter than I’d ever seen. The hues ranging from gold to red absolutely stunning. I’d love to have Feyre one day paint it for me.
Smells of roasting chestnuts, hickory smoke, crisp leaves, apple cider, and autumn air filled my nose. On the way, Eris stopped by a small farm where the owner allowed us to pick what Eris called the finest Honeycrisp apples in all of Prythian. I’d never had that variety before and though I had nothing to compare them against, the apples had the perfect crunch and just the right ratio of tart and sweet. He paid the farmer handsomely for a bucket of them and several pie pumpkins for his kitchens.
The Autumn Keep was far from the drab stone castle that I’d pictured. Eris clearly went to great strides to ensure the ghost of Beron Vanserra had no hold here. The grand rooms were filled with maple accents, rugs and tapestries with hues greens, golds, oranges and reds. Fires roared in massive fireplaces and autumnal spices filled the air.
And despite the beauty of the keep. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off of the tall, handsome redhead walking alongside me.
Once I was settled for the stay, we did meet to discuss political matters which took countless hours, but I was rather impressed with the ease of our negotiations. He and Tarquin had similar visions for the economic future within their courts.
We enjoyed dinner together, indulged in autumnal wines, including a hot mulled wine that flushed my cheeks. Or so I told Eris that was the reason for the blush on my features, and certainly not the way way he’d refer to me as “my lady” or “little fox.”
We’d stayed up late, sitting by a bon fire outside beneath the Autumn Skies. There was music and dancing, spiked ciders, and caramel apples. I could see why Eris loves his court.
We, of course, kept respectful distance from eachother as not to spark any gossip of anything more than friendship between he and I. Yet somehow, hours later, we found ourselves in a private courtyard - a small fire burning as we lay back on a blanket together. I began to shiver as the evening chill grew cooler. As I went to bid Eris goodnight and head for the warmth within Castle Walls, he halted me.
“Come here” he spoke. His voice low.
I scooted a bit closer.
“Come closer, little fox. I won’t bite.”
He refrained from adding “unless you ask me to” but that was readable enough in his heavy lidded gaze.
So I laid beside him, my head nestled between his chest and shoulder as his heat warmed my body. I showed him various constellations that I’d learned of during my time in the Night Court and he did a terrible job of visualizing them. He tried though. He told me how he used to wish on shooting stars, how he still found himself occasionally wishing upon them. I teared up when he told me of the wishes he’d made back then for his mother and Lucien, for himself, to one day escape Beron’s cruelty. For a better life. A better Court.
When we saw a shooting star later, he made a wish and told me it was bad luck to tell someone else the wish.
And I, despite everything that had turned upside down in life, found myself struggling to ask for anything more than what I had in that moment.
When we finally said goodnight I realized his own suite was right next to the one he had set me up in.
I woke in a sweat sometime hours before dawn. Pain ripping through my chest. Azriel once again pulling on the fucking bond with no regard for the feelings of despair he was shoving to me. This time was worse than usual, the waves of grief continuing to grow stronger and stronger all the time. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve this. This was a bed of his own making and yet I still had to suffer beyond what I’d already been through. Sleeping through it was futile and the room’s darkness began to suffocate me.
I padded from my room to a common area outside of the suites, sat before the fireplace and worked on breathing through it.
Though I tried my best to remain quiet, Eris apparently had a sharp sense of hearing as he wandered into the room, seating himself on the floor beside me. If I hadn’t been in such a sorry state, perhaps I would have noticed the low slung gray sweatpants and broad muscled chest of the half-naked High Lord- no, friend - beside me.
He took my hand. “Hey, fox, look at me.” I lifted my gaze to his. “You’ve got this. Breathe for me.” I took a shallow breath. “Can you breathe deeper for me, little one?” He placed a hand on my shoulder while the other remained on my hand. I took a deeper breath and let it out slowly.
“Good girl.”
Eris sat with me in silence on a plush couch once my breathing steadied. Still too worked up to fall back asleep, I nestled myself against Eris’ chest while his fingers ran through my hair in soothing, repetitive strokes.
It was hours later that I awoke, finding that I’d fallen asleep on him. I tried shifting away slowly but a sleeping Eris only held his arm around me tighter as I pulled. We slept like that a while longer.
The rest of the trip went by uneventfully. We discussed further trade options and Eris spent the evenings working with me on how to close off the bond to Azriel’s feelings. While I was already excellent at shutting down sending my feelings down the bond, cutting off his feelings was what I needed help with. By the end of the stay I could only feel his emotions slightly.
I expressed my gratitude to Eris who only waived off my thanks. “Anyone would have done it.” Yet he was the only one who tried. What I didn’t tell Eris was that as Azriel’s end of the bond silenced and the depths of my soul went from overflowing to filled with contentment, my thoughts began drifting to happier things, drifted to him.
Front porch and one more kiss. It doesn't make sense to anybody else.
The fifth month after I left, my grandparents held an outdoor feast for our family and friends in celebration of a holiday of one of the lesser Summer gods they worshipped.
It was far from a religious event. There was always wine, dancing, and lively conversation at these celebrations with none of the boring sermons that typically came with such events.
I invited Eris, and to my delight he came. My drunken sister made plenty of comments over how pretty of a pair of “friends” we made, with overemphasis on the word. My sweet, protective nephew took to Eris right away, deciding that after what Azriel put me through, anyone was better than him. He had no tolerance for cheating or sympathy for adulterers from the time he was old enough to understand what it meant and that his father had cheated on my sister during her pregnancy (real stand up guy) though my sister was so far out of his league that he’d have to reach the stars to find someone better. Obviously she’d left him immediately and she and my nephew were better off for it.
My family tried their best and failed miserably to act normal with the High Lord of the Autumn Court in their presence. Fortunately, Eris paid no mind and had won everyone over by the end of the night.
Despite his aversion to the sand, Eris accepted my invitation to camp on the beach so we could enjoy my favorite part of the night, the fireworks shooting off over the bay.
As the finale approached, I pouted.
“I hate when they end.”
Gesturing toward himself, Eris replied. “It’s a good thing you have a High Lord at your disposal to light up the night any time you wish.”
Before I could reprimand him for the crude comment, he began shooting small orbs of fire toward the water in a rainbow of colors.
My eyes sparkled watching the vibrant flares. Soon enough the orbs into butterflies of fire flying through the air, some circling around me. One brushed my cheek and there was no pain, just a gentle flutter.
“That’s… Just wow, that’s incredible, Eris!”
He gave a shrug of nonchalance in return.
“I bet you do that for all the ladies, don’t you?”
Eris looked me in the eyes, something unreadable in them.
“Only the ones I want to kiss.”
A moment passed before I realized that he was entirely serious.
And that I WANTED to kiss him.
So I did.
We kissed under the stars. It was a hard, passionate kiss, our shared breaths riddled with desperation, a profession of the unspoken words between us, “I’ve been waiting for this.”
And when we eventually pulled apart, I looked into his eyes with a smile, genuine, full of adoration, and Eris gently grasped the back of my head, pulling me into another searing kiss.
We shared many more before dawn.
You can’t undo a fall like this.
When Eris returned to the Autumn Court, I tried feeling any remorse for what we’d done. I was technically still a mated female, though I’d left and due to Azriel’s infidelity nobody expected me to honor the bond.
The guilt never came.
Eris had to travel so I wasn’t able to see him for the next couple weeks but we wrote back and forth often through enchanted notes. Curiosity or concern must have gotten the best of him because eventually he asked:
“Do you regret it?”
I knew exactly what he referred to.
“I regret many things, Eris. None of which pertain to you.”
I sent the letter to him with confidence. I did not regret a single thing about the night our lips collided on the beach.
“Thank the Mother, because I need to kiss you again.”
Heat radiated through me at his admission.
But then reality struck. He was the High Lord of the Autumn Court. I was the - separated, yes, but still - the mate of the Night Court’s Spymaster.
“Eris, I love spending time with you and will never regret it. You’ve helped me heal in ways I will never be able to repay you for. But this… how can this work? It’s messy.”
I sent the letter. My own heart crushing at the words. I didn’t want this to end but I couldn’t risk it going further just for reality to come crashing down on us.
Some time passed, the unease in my gut growing when his response appeared.
“If I wanted easy, I’d have married the daughter of some Autumn Lord. Nothing about my past has been easy and despite what some may believe, nothing worth having has come easily to me. Every second spent with you is worth it. Do not, Y/N, doubt that for one single moment. And perhaps this is crazy, but I would not want it any other way.”
It was that moment that I knew I wanted, I needed Eris as more than a friend.
“Then let’s be crazy, Eris Vanserra.”
I don't want "good" and I don't want "good enough"
The thing about immortality is that six months can bring more change than six decades or even centuries.
Six months ago I would have never dreamed that my mate would take the life we’d built over the years and tear it into shreds with those once sacred, beautiful scarred hands that I held reverently. The hands that placed the lovely mating band crafted from one of his own siphons on my finger after he’d made his vows, the hands that lovingly caressed my bare thighs through restless nights until sleep took me, hands that held me pressed to his chest and wiped away the tears of grief after yet another failed fertility cycle.
Those hands that held another and damned it all, the hands that came home and stroked my hair as pretty lies fell from his mouth, the hands that took my glass heart and dropped it.
I especially wouldn’t have dreamed that six months later I would be laying in the bed of the High Lord of the Autumn Court with his strong, warm hands holding me like this heart of mine that he’d forged anew was the most delicate, precious possession in his keep.
I want "can't sleep, can't breathe without your love"
We’d spent the night together making love. The kind of love making that shifts something intrinsic within a person, the type where no matter what happens, a piece of you is forever changed. It was more than just giving my body to him, it was a claiming of the soul.
We lay in bed all morning, his long fingers tracing along the arch of my bare back as he pressed soft kisses along my shoulder and neck. Between kisses, his low voice whispered quiet hopes and dreams for the future.
I was just about to speak those three words that I’d only ever spoken to one other male when a loud knock came on the chamber door.
“For fuck’s sake” Eris muttered before shouting “Come back later!”
“We apologize, High Lord but this is urgent.” a muffled male voice replied through the closed door.
Eris growled, shifting out of bed and throwing on his sweatpants not bothering with a shirt. I enjoyed the view.
“This better be worth my while, lads.” Eris hissed in a tone that conveyed “I’m very fucking inconvenienced right now but understand that you are doing your duty as my sentries.”
“Apologies again, High Lord, but we’ve….”
The male outside the door cleared his throat in attempt to communicate that the matter should be discussed privately.
“It’s fine.” Eris grumbled. “Just get on with it.”
“We, well, High Lord, we’ve apprehended the Shadowsinger. He was making an attempt to infiltrate the keep.”
———————————
@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious
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rot my teeth, melt these cotton candy lips, i'd let you; left this trail of breadcrumb broken hearts so you'd follow me home.
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js1 x reader: the fisherman puts the heartbreaker out of commission.
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (f on m), idk like marking and lots of limbs and obviously we've been warned about the talking. i know i'm forgetting a lot but all my usual suspects. (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: favorites! what's new? probably nothing, right? (love a self-reference). this should serve as a warning for all of you - if you drop an anonymous ask, no matter how simple, you are running the risk of me emerging from my cave of teeth with a 14k story about someone i barely noticed until recently. and i may, consequently, become weirdly infatuated with a random third line winger (tf11) and force him into my story. my obvious disclaimers of lack of realism and weirdly flowery language and crazy plotholes and status as fiction are still very much on the table. of course i know nothing about being a private chef, or alaska, for that matter. so, uh, congrats to js1 on being an all-star, i guess? this is your prize! i posted about what's going on in my world recently - there's a lot, it's a lot, and just know that no matter what, what i feel most for you is gratitude. thank you. tell me what you think, i live for it. takeaway for today - your past does not determine who you are, what you are capable of. no matter how many guys insist it does, your body count and/or experience, or lack thereof, even, is irrelevant to the lovely person you are. you are a treasure, and you deserve to be treated accordingly. may we all find partners who think they're dreaming when they look at us. my snakes told me to tell your snakes they have a crush on them. okay, until next time, go canucks. all my love).
summers, for you, had always been something magical.
when you were young, they meant lake house vacations and playing tennis with your siblings and strawberry shortcake, grass stains and popsicles. when you were in school, they meant working as a line cook at a country club, a job and space that felt all your own, they meant salty beach days with your friends and pulling the caddies (the cute ones, at least) behind the clubhouse, kisses that tasted like gatorade.
now, a bit older, summers meant something different, but they were still magical. during the year, you worked as a personal chef for the same lovely family, the montgomerys, that you had built a trusting relationship with - a family that travelled extensively over the summer, leaving you, each may, to look for temporary work elsewhere.
you took work from whatever family offered you the best gig any given summer, usually on a referral from your main employer, usually a place like nantucket or charleston or something like that.
last summer, spent in the hamptons, you cooked for the family of mrs. montgomery's best friend. it had been a season of fish tacos and roasted artichoke salad and berry cobbler, cut with fireworks and white linen dresses and aperol spritzes.
this summer, mr. montgomery's coworker, mr. kelly, had hired you to keep him and his family fed for the season while they summered up at their alaskan vacation home.
so, this job, it wasn't new, not really. you were a seasoned professional in the world of being a private chef, in recipe building and gardening and plate presentation.
this place, however, this small town in alaska, was completely and utterly unfamiliar. you had met the kellys a few times, so you knew the parents and their adorable young son, but that was where the recognition would end. the rest was new, foreign.
you loved the prospect of learning a new place, though, like earning a new badge on a girl-scout sash. your mind hummed on the flight over as you thought about different seasonal produce, a new set of tastes and preferences to account for, techniques for preparing the seafood that would surely be spectacular.
a new set of streets to know the names of, a new community to put faces to, a new routine to settle into.
summers were magical, for you, they always had been, and you knew this one would be no different.
this was very much not the hamptons, though, you realized, very quickly upon landing at the tiny airport, which had only a few gates. which was fine, you considered, you didn't need to work at some crazy expensive beach town, or anything, but this place was kind of, well, scarce, maybe?
the taxi ride to the house was fast, a blur of main street and trees and not much else. finally, you arrived, a flurry of suitcases and thank yous and hair in your face.
the kellys welcomed you, all open arms from the mrs and kind smiles from the mr and timid waves from their son, stanley. they showed you to your room, gave you a quick tour, left you to settle in before the work started tomorrow.
exhausted from travel, you fell asleep quickly and dreamlessly.
the next morning, you awoke to the sun streaming in through the window, warm and lazy. after getting ready, you made your way downstairs, had your planning meeting with the family.
they told you their preferences, the important dates of the summer, when people would be coming over. thankfully, there were no allergies. they showed you to their garden.
"we'd love if you got some use out of it," mrs. kelly said, a gentle hand on your shoulder, "lord knows i don't give it enough attention."
"we're so excited to have you," mr. kelly said, "thanks again for doing this. see you for dinner?"
you called out your confirmation as you grabbed your market bags, began the five-minute walk to downtown, to the pier. the walk was peaceful, the air pleasant and fresh.
you made your way through main street slowly and methodically, learning the stores and their energies, their offerings. the market, sure, that would be where you spent a majority of your time, but you tried out the bookstore, too, the coffee shop, the vintage store.
before you knew it, your arms were loaded with bags, overflowing with produce and ingredients, a couple books, a bag of coffee beans, a vintage silk scarf.
your arms were full, but you still decided to make one last stop, at the fish market, all the way at the end of main street.
the smell made you scrunch up your nose, if only slightly, as you pushed the door open with your hip, heard the bell ring over your head.
you made your way to the glass display case, surveyed all the different seafood over ice. you were thinking salmon, for tonight, something simple that everyone would like.
you picked your head up, looked behind the counter, found nobody to help you. "uh, hello?" you called out. "anyone home?"
almost immediately, two tall figures came barreling out of the back, through the double doors. two men, bottom half in fishing gear, the rubbery protective pants attached to suspenders, which laid over black long sleeves.
"what's up?" one of them, the dirty blonde, said, his voice deep, almost cartoonish.
"hi," you said, "i'm looking for some salmon."
"didn't look very hard, did you?" the blonde said, teasing, nodding down to where the mass of pink fish laid atop the plane of ice. he cut a look to his coworker, who's gaze hadn't dropped from you since he came through the door. "but, uh, i think my friend jeremy's gonna help you out," he said, "i, uh, gotta do somethin' in the back real quick."
the blonde made a quick and forced exit, forcing you to turn and face the other man behind the counter.
"okay?" you said, halfway confused. "you're jeremy, then?"
there was a pause potent with awkwardness as he stood there, blinking at you.
a pause during which you realized, however slowly, that this man across the counter was sort of beautiful. beautiful in a way you weren't used to, beautiful in a way your men of the summer had not been before.
it was sort of an inside joke now, between you and your friends. how, no matter where you were, what job you were working, you'd have a "summer boyfriend," a guy with a finish line, someone pretty and nice enough to hang around until the sun set over the blood orange summer skyline one final time. your best friend joked that it was a seasonal position, almost like an internship.
the caddies you went for when you were a little younger were division one golfers, with all of the laser-focus and goody-two-shoes attitudes to match.
last summer, in the hamptons, it'd been a beachfront bartender named mat, all easy charm and comic book facial structure. he'd cared a little too much about his physique, said a little too much about what you'd cook for him, but he'd also been really sweet, sometimes, letting you borrow his jackets whenever you got cold on the beach.
jeremy, though, he didn't look like the laced-up amateur golfers, and he didn't seem like the discipline-fueled superhero, either. he was tall, for sure, tall enough that your neck craned slightly to get a good look at him, and wide in the shoulders.
it was his face that really got you, though - even with that sharp jaw, he just looked so soft, so gentle, so tender, like he wore every emotion across his face completely and utterly shamelessly. his eyes had welled up with something you had the sneaking suspicion was just kindness, brimming on his waterline, threatening to spill forward like salty tears.
you waved a hand in front of his face, cleared your throat, felt the slightest of blushes across your nose. "earth to jeremy?"
you watched consciousness creep into his eyes, cloud over the awe that was previously there. he gave a rigorous shake of his head, as if to snap himself out of a trance. "sorry, beauty," he said, and his voice was so genuine, so unabashed, it made you smile, your stomach turn. "must think 'm a real space cadet, eh?"
you shifted the bags in your hands. "well, you did just zone out for a bit," you said.
he let out a laugh, and it bubbled out of him, uninhibited. "my fault," he admitted, "i was thinking, 'woah, am i in a dream right now?' and then i was like 'wait, no, i don't dream about work,' but you look straight 'outta a daydream, beauty, i swear it."
his manner of speaking dripped with honesty, like every aspect of his thoughts was completely on the table, like you were someone entitled to knowing exactly what was going on in his head.
you averted your gaze at his confession. when was the last time someone had made you feel practically timid?
when you spoke, your voice felt unsure. "whatever you say," you told him. "maybe you could help me, now? i-"
"anything," he said, completely stone-faced and serious, which forced a laugh from your throat.
"right," you said, a slight smile quirking up on your lips. "i'm hoping to get some salmon for dinner tonight?"
he hummed, a sound you felt in your chest. your fingers twitched. "you cook, too?" he asked, sounded almost pained as he leaned his head onto a hand, the other flat on the counter.
you nodded absentmindedly. "'m a private chef. anyways, need enough for four, five people, maybe?"
"at your service, beauty," he said, in that funny voice, and then he shot you a wink before snapping his gloves on. the tips of your ears must have been a vengeful pink, at this point.
as he prepared the fish for you to take home, weighing it and wrapping it in paper, you set your bags down on the ground, stretched your arms out above your head, your body stiff from holding so many things.
"that's a 'lotta bags, there," jeremy said, nodding towards the floor. "what're you hoarding in 'em?" his smile pulled at his mouth, revealed a flash of white teeth that was nothing but teasing, kind.
you ran a palm across the back of your neck. "it's my first day on the job," you said, "first dinner for the new family, want to make a good impression."
he gave a light-hearted scoff. "ever made a bad impression?"
you rolled your eyes at him. "you don't know me, jeremy," you reminded him, not mean, almost a sing-songy melody in your voice.
he put up one hand in mock-surrender. "'course, you're right," he said, "just find it hard to believe, 's all."
"okay, sweet-talker," you chided, shifting on your feet as he finished wrapping up your fish.
his grin was triumphant. "think 'm sweet, do you, beauty?"
you handed over your payment, ran your tongue along your teeth as he gently took it from your fingers. you let that confidence well up in your gaze, willed the smile that worked on everyone.
the one that convinced caddies that maybe they could take a quick break, that maybe they deserved to have a little fun, the one that convinced the bartender everyone had lusted over that you were the only girl in the world, that no one else was worthy of his attention.
"oh, you'd rot my teeth, jeremy," you teased as you slotted the paper package into a bag, took back your credit card, loaded your arms full again, made for the door.
you looked over your shoulder one last time, found him leaning on his palm, again, watching you, practically with a wistful sigh. "'m not rotten," he said, gaze alight with something dangerous.
you smiled at him. "goodbye, rotten boy," you said, leaving as the bell rung above you, feeling his gaze on your back the entire time, until the air around you smelled less of the sea and more of the forest, like tree-sap and soil.
you fell into a routine quickly, like you had planned on, like you were so used to doing. you prepped and planned and worked on recipes. you cooked and cleaned up after yourself and looked after the garden with diligence. you spent your free mornings walking to get coffee, your free weekends exploring the nearby beaches and lakes and trails.
you gained the trust of the kellys, until they treated you like family. until mr. kelly was asking when your crabcakes would be making another appearance, until mrs. kelly was swearing there was sorcery involved in your strip steak, until little stanley would sneak into the kitchen when you were making dessert, just because he knew there would be some cookie dough to spare, maybe a finger swipe of brownie batter.
until the garden was looking almost complete, the pantries and fridge fully stocked, until the menu had a fairly regular rotation.
you made your first friend a few weeks into the summer, one morning, waiting in the short line for your daily coffee. you had long ago come to terms with the fact that, yes, it would probably be cheaper to make coffee at home, but you'd soak the economic losses to support a small business. coffee was one thing you'd spend money on, no matter where you were.
so, this morning, you were second in line, which should have meant a short wait, but the middle-aged man in front of you was taking a truly devastating amount of time to make a decision.
the poor teenager working the register was trying not to be rude, you could tell, but after a couple minutes, the growing line had begun to grow restless.
you were about to tap the man on the shoulder, but the woman behind you, maybe your age, a bit older, beat you to it.
"jesus christ, jerry!" she bit out, "just get your regular, or i'll run an article about how someone so indecisive shouldn't own a hardware store!" she huffed out an angry breath, shook her head as a scared jerry ordered a drip coffee with cream.
you met the woman's eye, and she smiled at you. "hey, new kid," she said, sticking out her hand. "i'm tj, local paper."
impressed, you shook her hand, gave her your name. "local paper, eh?" you asked, "lots of coffee shop and hardware store headlines?"
she laughed as you stepped forward and ordered your americano, motioned for her to order, too. "we don't get a lot of blockbuster news, around here," she said, making to pay, but you held out a hand to stop her. "you're probably just about the most interesting news we've had all year, since the frederic's dog got lost."
you hummed. "i could use you on my side, tj," you mused, "could help me get up to speed with this place."
she tilted her head, appeared in thought for a second before eventually nodding. "sure, new kid, i'll get you all caught up," she agreed. "and not just because you bought my coffee."
you laughed. "anytime," you offered.
"say, same time tomorrow?" she asked, headed for the door, swinging her shoulder bag around. "meet here?"
you agreed and waved goodbye. she saluted you, let the door close behind her.
"that girl's a terror," jerry warned you, careful.
"good," you told him. "all the best girls are."
as promised, you met up with tj the next morning, bought her coffee with your own before making your way up main street.
"so, i'm sure you're already familiar, because you've been here for a bit," she said, in step with you, "but we'll go over the basics."
"honestly, i don't know much," you said, "i'm at the market almost every day, every other place i've been only once or twice. and besides the kellys, you're the first local person i know by name." a flash of molten brown eyes and a tender smile blazed across your mind like a comet. "well, second."
tj's gaze shimmered, and you guessed this was the curiosity that makes someone want to be a reporter. "who else?" she asked.
"no one, really," you said, "this guy in the fish market, jeremy, but we talked for like a second."
she nodded like she understood. "oh, the fish market," she sighed. "the two biggest goofballs in town." she shot you a look. "don't worry, we'll make a stop there."
"oh, we don't have to, i'll go back eventually, mr. kelly's been wanting crab, anyways-"
"we'll make a stop there," she repeated, and that was that. first, though, she introduced you to the owner of the grocery store, an old woman who whispered to you that all the best stuff gets delivered on wednesdays.
next was the pizza place, and all the teenagers who seemed to be running it. "luke likes jenna, but jenna has a thing for her friend kayla," tj whispered to you as the door shut behind you.
"this is the kind of inside scoop you're privy to, eh?" you asked, amused.
she shrugged. "it's a real mixed bag. i'd never, like, run a story on the love lives of high schoolers, but everything is significant in a town this small."
you hummed, supposing she was right.
between the vintage store and the post office, she asked about your history, where you were from, your job.
"sounds like a pretty sweet gig," she said with an impressed sort of shrug.
you nodded. "it's a lot of work, but it's pretty awesome," you said, honestly. you loved what you did, and felt very lucky to be doing it.
"come back soon, girls!" mailwoman mindy called out after you both. you waved your thanks.
eventually, after your head was overcrowded with insider information and useless gossip all the same, you and tj stood in front of the fish market, the smell making your palms sweat with the memory of last time.
when was the last time a guy made you nervous? you shivered the thought away as tj pushed open the door.
"right, so this is the frederic's business, has been for decades," she said, "boys! show yourselves!"
on cue, the two men from last time shouldered through the double doors with the same lack of gracefulness.
"good morning, sunshine," the blonde said, almost taunting, looking right at tj, "to what do we owe this great pleasure?"
your friend looked particularly annoyed, all of a sudden. "'m giving new kid a tour," she said, gesturing to you, "she says she's been here, but i figured you probably didn't introduce yourself."
"right, as always, you sleuther," he said, making up the word, before turning to you. "i'm trent. and i remember you." he smirked, nodded to his coworker. "guy's been moanin' and cryin' 'bout when you'd come back."
"nice to officially meet you, trent," you said, giving him your name before finally allowing yourself to look at jeremy, whose gaze you'd felt like the sun on your face since he entered. he was every bit as beautiful, as genuine, as painstakingly tender as you'd remembered. "hey, jeremy." your words came out softer than you meant them to.
"hey, beauty," he replied, almost disbelieving, his hair just a bit shaggier than you remembered.
his smile was something brutal.
your grin was sly as you rolled your neck to the side, let his gaze drip over you greedily, but never shamefully.
tj cleared her throat. "well, not much of anything interesting happens on this end of the pier," she said, to which trent placed a wounded hand over his heart.
"no gossip for me, tj?" you asked, almost surprised, but not quite. these two seemed like open books, if jeremy's telling gaze was anything to go by. not to mention the fondness that had invaded trent's eyes when looking at your new friend, the way your eyes settle on your science class crush in middle school.
"you'll tell me something useful eventually, won't you, boys?" tj asked.
"guess you'll have to keep coming back, then. to find out," was trent's smug reply.
you weren't listening to their banter, really, though, not anymore, because you had drifted closer to jeremy, felt yourself walk over to him as if pulled by some thread. until you were leaning forward on the counter, like you were about to tell him a secret. until you could see each of his dark lashes, the light smattering of freckles on his nose.
"been moanin' and cryin', eh?" you teased, little more than a whisper, tilting your head at him.
"wouldn't've had to," he said, but it came out like a whine. "if you'd've come back to see me."
what would it be like, to be just, so, so honest? with others, with yourself? so honest, it rendered you just about speechless. almost.
you gave him that smile. "rotten boy," you said, watched his gaze become drenched in corn syrup. "so impatient, hm?"
"when do i get to see you again?" he asked, undeterred, not unaffected but so beautifully unembarrassed in his focus on the more, the next.
"soon," was all you said. he gave you a pout that you wanted to bite down on.
"alright, we're off," tj said, her voice pulling you from the daydream you had settled into. "when you've got something i can use, you know where to find me, frederic."
"you can use me anytime, tj!" he pronounced her name like tee-j, smiled as she rolled her eyes.
"good to meet you, trent," you said, "jeremy, i'll see you around."
"not if i see you first, beauty!" his goofy voice called out after you.
as luck would have it, you didn't even have to wait for the weekend to see him again. because, the universe, you were convinced, was trying to force you closer, closer, closer to this tall, kind, man with eyes that glittered. and what was there to do, really, except say thank you?
stanley, whom you had come to grow close to, whose laugh was like a bell, who was quiet but observant and passionate about things like glaciers and rainstorms, had started fishing camp earlier that week, but this afternoon, neither of his parents could pick him up.
"i know it's not in your job description, and i promise it won't be a regular thing," mrs. kelly had said to you over the phone, "but could you swing by the pier super quick to walk him home?"
and of course you had agreed, told her it wasn't any trouble at all.
and it really wasn't any trouble at all, until trouble was staring you straight in the face.
until you stood on the pier, waiting your turn in the pick-up line, and spotted trouble, himself, lifting kids by the waist from the small boat onto the dock.
he sparkled with life, in all of his gear, down to his water-proof boots. he appeared to have made something of a game out of pick up, making a rocket-ship noise as he hoisted kids into the air before setting them down. their laughter rang out in the clear air.
you could feel your heart beat in your chest, suddenly became acutely aware of what you were wearing, how your hair looked. this nervous energy was so foreign to you, it almost felt like a sickness, like a cold.
you scolded yourself to calm down, willed your heartbeat to normalize. these nerves, they weren't you - or at least, they weren't the you that you were used to. they were not the careless summer you that you had come to know and love. they were part of a different you, one that was not as familiar, perhaps one you believed to be not as magical.
"beauty!" you were pulled from your self-conscious daze by jeremy approaching you with agile steps, until he was right in front of you, larger than life, unobstructed by a counter for the first time. before you could do or say anything, his thick arms were around you, pulling you tight against his chest in a hug that muffled your surprise, maybe confusion. you didn't know him, he didn't know you, yet he was doling out hugs like they cost him nothing? "so happy you're here," he said into your hair, and you could have laughed at the absurdity of it all.
maybe you would have, if his embrace didn't feel so right around you, if his chest wasn't so expansive, yet so soft, if you didn't feel so completely safe, practically at peace in his arms. maybe you would have laughed, if there had been anything funny about this.
you rubbed circles into his back with your palm, almost dazed. "you work fishing camp?" you asked into his chest, felt the heat of your exhale in your face.
he didn't let you go, not yet, only pulled his head back slightly so he could talk to you, face to face. "oh, yeah," he said, generous with his smile, "boat captain of the baby minnows, more like."
you couldn't help your smile. "okay, big shot," you said, feigning being impressed. "do i call you captain, then?"
did you imagine the way his eyes darkened, if only for a second, a storm cloud over the sea line? did you imagine the way his embrace grew heated? did you imagine the way you wanted it to?
"think 'd let you call me just about anything," he said, breathy, and the air sparked.
he's not for you, a voice whispered in your head. he's not your seasonal plaything.
you coughed, tried to gracefully step away from him. he let you, didn't seem to be bothered by it. "have you seen stanley?" you asked, your skin itching to feel his arms around you, again.
jeremy smiled. "stan, stan, my bug-saving man? he's 'round here somewhere." he looked around, his gaze finally settling on the boy you were looking for, bent over a rock, looking at some critter that had caught his eye. "there he is." the two of you walked over to him. "not just here to see me, then? pickup takes priority?"
he didn't sound disappointed, not even sad, really, but almost wistful, hopeful. his words upset you, though, which scared you. it scared you, how much you didn't want to hurt his feelings.
it was this scared part of you that took his wide hand in yours and squeezed, which made his gaze cut to yours, wide, surprised. "'m happy to see you," you said, and it felt forbidden to say so, but you did it anyways.
you were happy for the distraction of the kid in front of you as you reluctantly let go of jeremy's hand and crouched down. "hey, stanley," you said, so as not to spook him.
he hummed his hello, pointed to the beetle in the dirt. "look," he said, seemingly content with just observing.
"i see," you said, "pretty cool." you had never been the best at talking to children. somehow, jeremy seemed to sense this.
"guess what, stan?" he said, eyes wide, like him and this small boy were in on some secret.
"what?" stan said.
"your friend over here told me that the first one home gets an extra special dessert tonight," he stage-whispered. stan's eyes grew wide at this information. he promptly took off, in the direction of home.
thank you, you mouthed to jeremy as you made to follow stan.
he ran a hand through his hair. "thankful enough for a helping of dessert tomorrow?" he called out after you.
you scrunched up your face playfully. "rotten!" you said, loud enough for him to hear, which made his bright laugh echo behind you, echo in your head. the feeling of his embrace, of his hand in yours, of his laugh in your mind, it all followed you home, where it stayed.
it lingered for long after, into days spent wrapped up in work, throwing yourself into your everyday tasks so that a certain someone would stay at an arm's length, so that your head might maintain some semblance of clearness.
between shucking corn and braising short rib, though, whenever you weren't entirely preoccupied, your mind would wander to corded shoulders under black long sleeves, to giggly belly-laughs and honesty that made you blush.
it was your wandering mind that had you seeking out stan, when he and his dad got back from fishing camp pick-up. "how was today?" you asked him, gentle, probing.
he shrugged.
"anything to report?" you tried, hoping maybe he'd say something about jeremy, but you'd take an update on the bugs and slithery things he seemed to like so much, too. you pushed a bowl of chocolate pudding and strawberries across to counter to him, placing a finger to your lips in a request for secrecy.
this, stan seemed to understand. "didn't catch anything," he said, digging into his treat. "set all the worms free."
you suppressed a laugh. "was jeremy mad at you?" you knew the answer though, knew it would take a lot more than that to make him anything close to angry.
stan shook his head, and his eyes flickered with a memory. "he told me to tell you about the pier party."
"what's the pier party?" you asked.
another shrug. you figured you'd ask tj about it.
"did he say anything else?" you asked, trying to mask the hope in your gaze, which probably appeared kind of scary to this kid.
stan thought for a moment, then his face scrunched up in distaste. "oh, and he told me to tell you that his hair looked really good today."
"did it?" you asked.
"not really," stan said, and then he laughed, muffled around his spoon, forcing a laugh from you, too.
following clarification with tj about what the pier party was (like a block party, summer tradition, that weekend), you walked downtown with the kellys on saturday night to find the pier all lit up, local vendors having set up stands, music playing from speakers, kids running around everywhere.
the night air was warm and sticky, making your thighs feel damp, your hair heavy on the back of your neck.
stan ran off with some of his friends from camp, the kellys joined a conversation with some people they knew, leaving you to find tj.
you quickly spotted her, leaning on a post next to the cooler, writing something down in her nearly-abused notebook.
"no days off, eh?" you said, amused, when you approached her, making her look up, roll her eyes at you as she shut her notebook, clicked her pen and shoved it into her messy bun.
"inspiration is everywhere," she said, joking, but you could tell there was some truth to her statement. "drink?"
"no, thanks," you said. you had grown sort of disenfranchised with the whole alcohol thing since last summer. not in a pretentious way, or a judgmental way, you didn't mind at all if others drank. you just didn't like the way it made you feel, sort of sluggish and swollen, and as soon as you'd stopped, you realized you didn't really miss it. "what were you writing?"
she opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by a funny, cracking voice. "oh, that's not her work book," trent said, grinning. "that's her diary. 'm sure my name's makin' quite a few appearances."
"in your dreams, frederic," tj chided, shoving the notebook into her bag nonetheless as trent pulled the pen from her hair, tucked it behind his own ear.
of course, where one was, the other was never far behind, so you weren't all that surprised to feel jeremy slide into place beside you. you did become momentarily distracted, though, by the smell of him so close, by the fact that he wasn't wearing his gear, instead opting for casual pants and a t-shirt you thought appeared a little too small.
you swallowed around your distraction, lodged in your throat, at his arms, thick with muscle, his body less-so obstructed by water-proof gear and more-so highlighted by his everyday clothes.
when your eyes finally found his, he looked positively delighted by your distraction.
you shook your head. "sorry," you said immediately.
his smile only grew. "don't be, beauty," he said, giving the arm not holding his beer a hard flex, posing like a bodybuilder, making you laugh. "just get my good side, hm?"
maybe it was his easy humor that had honesty welling up in you like a cresting wave. "every side's your good side," you said, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, willing him to relax. rest, you might as well have whispered into his ear. you can rest, with me. "you're so good."
that's what he seemed to hear it as, anyways, as his gaze melted into something like awe, like wonder, like pure kindness. when he spoke, there was a rasp to it that made you shiver. "want a drink?" he asked.
you weren't embarrassed to shake your head, softly. "'m not into drinking, right now," you said, then realized that could be taken as judgmental. "but i don't mind if you do, like, at all."
his expression didn't change, though, as he held out his beer bottle to trent, snagging his attention from whatever conversation he had roped tj into. "freddy, finish this for me, eh?"
trent just shrugged, took it from his hand, downed it in one go. tj grimaced. "you're gross," she said.
"it's saturday night," trent said with a one-shouldered shrug, as if that explained everything.
"you didn't have to do that," you told jeremy. "i really don't mind."
he just waved you off with a smile as trent and tj continued their argument about being appropriate at a neighborhood party.
the song that floated through the thick air grew slower, maybe something like the last song at a middle school dance. something that had the older couples swaying in time with each other, that had luke gazing across the pier at jenna, who was laughing with kayla. something that had jeremy extending a broad hand to you. "may i have this dance?" he asked, like some old-timey medieval, and you could have laughed, if he didn't appear to be completely serious.
so you only smiled, took his hand, said, "you may."
you set your free hand on his shoulder, tried not to blush at the firmness you felt under your palm as his other hand rested on your waist. you swayed and moved together gently, slowly, in time with the song, the pier under your sandals.
in a moment of indulgence, you dug your hand harder into his shoulder, massaging the muscle there. "a little tense, hm?" you said, meeting his gaze, coated in bliss.
maybe it backfired, a little, though, when he let out a little groan at your touch, at the feeling of your careful hand undoing the knots in the pocket between his shoulder and neck. something stirred in your stomach. you exhaled slowly.
the moment felt oddly charged, a sensual eye in the hurricane of normality around the two of you.
he hummed. "consequence of the job," he said, giving you a slight spin.
"it's tough on you, eh?" you asked, genuine, his touch on your waist distracting. time seemed to melt like a fourth-of-july popsicle.
he shrugged, a movement you felt in your fingers. "'m tough," he said, and you could tell he knew it to be true, knew it to be a keystone of his being.
you nodded, because you knew this, too. "can tell," you whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. "feel it in your hands."
his eyes became glossy, for a moment, like your admission was too much for his consciousness to bare.
this glossy look spurred you on, made the flirt in you emerge with a vengeance. "like to break a bit of a sweat, yeah?"
and he was nodding before you got the words out, feverish, almost desperate.
the music felt far away, up in the clouds, below the surface of the sea. it felt like you two might have been there, too, waltzing in some misty sky dreamland, some foamy ocean kingdom.
it felt perfect, he felt perfect, and when you went to sleep that night, your waist felt cold without his wide palm against it. your fingers twitched without his firm grip around them.
the next day, you called one of your old friends from the city, who had known you for a long time, who was the kind of friend that, no matter how much time had passed from when you last spoke, you would pick up right where you left off, no matter what.
you asked her about how she was doing, how her partner was, her job, her house renovations.
"alright, enough about me, i'm boring myself to death," she said after getting you effectively caught up. "tell me about your summer adventures, so much more exciting than redoing the master bath."
you laughed, and you told her about the kellys, their beautiful home, this lovely town. you told her about how the air was just different up here, how everything tasted fresher, how you had made a friend who made you laugh.
"and who's the lucky guy?" she said, eventually, as you sort of knew she would. at your silence, you could practically hear her disbelief. "don't tell me you don't have a seasonal hire, yet? how small is this town?"
you rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "it's not that," you said, "i mean, there is this guy, and he's really, really-" you trailed off, kind of, tried to think of how to describe him. scarily kind? handsome and beautiful at the same time? you let out a small laugh. "well, he makes me nervous, i guess."
there was a pause. "you're telling me," your friend said, slow and pronounced. "there's a guy in this universe who can make you nervous? and he's in alaska?"
"it's weird, right?" you said, almost laughing at yourself.
"weird? it's unprecedented!" there was a squeal from the other end of the line. "so, you've been there for a couple weeks now, right? so you must know him pretty well?"
you looked down at your hand, flexed it, cleared your throat. "i, uh, haven't really, like, initiated anything with him," you admitted. "i don't know, it doesn't feel like how it normally does. like i feel like my order and timing is all wrong, like i'm behind and going too fast at the same time."
"holy fuck," your friend said. "you, like, really like him. that's what really being into someone is, babe. exactly that."
you swallowed, blushed, even though her words just confirmed what you already had suspected.
"you have to ask him out," she said, as if she had made up her mind. "or, like, i don't know, next time you see him, just, like, kiss him, or something."
you laughed, rubbed your palm against your leg. "pretty sure there's, like, laws against that," you joked, but you got her point. whether you liked it or not, all signs were pointing to you being completely taken with jeremy. and even if it had happened quickly, and even if it wasn't in your typical summer style, perhaps it was time to do something about it.
"next time you call i'm expecting a wedding announcement," were your friend's eventual parting words. "and i like a sweetheart neckline for my bridesmaid's dress." you said your goodbyes and hung up with well wishes and a plan.
a plan that involved picking up some crab from the fish market the following day.
of course, when you entered, the main space was empty, as it always was.
"jeremy?" you called out, "you there?"
"coming!" came that tell-tale voice.
if trent was there too, he didn't make his presence known, as it was only the brown-haired boy who came bursting in from the back, eyes wide with delight when he registered your figure. he actually gave a little laugh, short and boyish. "beauty!" he said, like he couldn't believe his luck. "so soon?"
he didn't stay behind the counter, either, this time coming all the way around to lean against the display case, face you head-on. it was hard to imagine a time when the sight of him like this wouldn't make your mouth dry, just a little. when him, close to you, wouldn't make your heart sing.
he looked conflicted, standing in front of you now, like he didn't quite know what to do with his hands. that made the two of you - because what lines did you still want to remain in place? what boundaries did you want to abolish entirely?
your exhale felt like a bloodstained white flag, waving. "couldn't wait any longer to see you," you said, simply, trying on some of his honesty like a hand-me-down leather jacket. it made you feel just as cool.
and it was worth it to see the way he practically melted at your words, the way his eyes softened, how he seemed to lean further into the display case for support more than comfort.
maybe to push your luck, maybe because you knew you weren't really pushing it at all, you swung your bag to your back, opened up your arms, only a little timidly, stepped forward a bit.
the elementary school bully in your head snickered at your awkwardness, but jeremy only pushed out of his lean immediately, wrapped his thick arms around your frame until your nose was pressed against the black cotton of his shirt. he was warm, so warm, and smelled like the sea, and you had to have been imagining how your limbs practically gave a sigh of relief to feel him hold you again.
how could this possibly be? for so long, you'd been the heartbreaker that boys warned their friends about, and now you were weak in the knees because of a hug?
jeremy laughed, and it rumbled through your body.
"what?" you asked into his firm chest as your fingers fluttered on his back.
he didn't say anything, only pulled his head back a bit, a motion your mirrored until you were staring up at him, curious.
his gaze was almost dazed as he reached a hand up, pinched at your cheek.
you made a sound like it hurt more on instinct than actuality, batting his hand away nonetheless. "what was that for?"
he laughed, leaned down and pressed his lips lightly to where his fingers had been, making your nose and cheeks erupt in strawberry pink. the most tender touch you'd felt, almost embarrassingly soft, enough to make you want to hide your face.
his humor was evident in his tone when he spoke. "had to make sure i wasn't dreaming," he clarified. "with you showin' up here, sayin' you wanna see me, and all. lookin' like this."
the memory of his lips burned like a flame on your skin as you looked up at him. "pretty sure you're supposed to pinch yourself for that," you told him.
something awoke in his eyes. "pinch me, then, beauty," he said, daring you, "'s only fair."
you scrunched up your nose. "only want me to so 'l kiss it better," you mused, knowing the look in his eyes, knowing exactly how that felt.
he hummed, greedy, guilty, let the pause settle like molasses. a moment during which you could have said a million things, but nothing felt quite right. nothing could possibly add to the peace you felt here, right now.
"i know," jeremy said, a self-deprecating sort of tease in his tone that didn't quite fit with the shimmery satisfaction in his eyes. "i know it, 'm so rotten for you."
and maybe you had been about to make some joke about him being rotten, but he had flipped this whole conversation on its head entirely by saying that he was rotten for you. because now this was no longer a joke, now this was just so, so serious.
so serious you cleared your throat, but didn't step away, couldn't bring yourself to. you swung your bag around. "brought you something," you said, tried to hide the shake in your voice as you took the plastic container from your bag, held it up to him. "extra portion of dessert, as promised."
he took it from your hands like it it was made of glass, smiled so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners. "thank you," he said.
there was something almost violent about his kindness.
"anyways," you said, moving right along, for fear that you'd forget what you came for if you looked in his eyes any longer. "was wondering if, i don't know, maybe, you, uh, wanted to-"
as you rambled and stuttered, which was like speaking a foreign language, to you, which made you feel like the tongue in your mouth was not your own, his grin grew, and grew, until you had to shake your head at your ridiculousness. "yes, please," he said, putting you out of your misery.
you rolled your eyes, your face hot. "if you'd only let me finish, i was almost there," you said.
"'course, beauty," he said with a nod, a gesture for you to continue, "didn't mean to interrupt."
you took a breath. "was wondering if you wanted to get ice cream with me, tomorrow?" you managed, the words rushed. "like a date?"
you'd ask him a thousand times, if he kept looking at you like his, as long as he'd take you in his arms, as he was doing now, as long as he'd hide your burning face in his chest and hold you like to let you go would hurt. "yes, please," he repeated into your hair. "did so well, beauty," he said, softer, a murmur. you hadn't known how much you needed someone to tell you that until he mumbled it into your temple, the affirmation sitting atop your head like a crown dipped in gold.
you made it back to the house that day with a package of crab and plans for tomorrow. you immediately texted tj, needing to tell someone, anyone, so much so that you would have told stan, if he'd been around, even though you knew how he would grimace, said something about you not making any sense.
free tomorrow morning? you texted her.
coffee place at eight was her prompt reply.
that was where you sat, now, across the table from your friend, filling her in on what you'd done, what you were doing later today.
she let out a low whistle when you finished, a little out of breath.
"ice cream date, eh?" she said, finally, raising a brow. "what, will you get his snap after?" she crossed her fingers and shook them at you, teasing.
you rolled your eyes and waved her off, but something about her words resonated with you. because it did seem juvenile, it did seem childish and weird.
but you'd never done the juvenile and childish. you'd skipped that part, right to the thoughtful flirting and manipulative mannerisms that you now associated with adulthood. was it so bad that you wanted some of that time back? was it so bad to want the ice cream dates instead of the motive-driven smiles? the bear-hugs instead of the whole let-me-buy-you-a-drink dance?
was it so bad to want it to just be easy, for once? for you not to have to do all the heavy lifting, just so they thought it had been their idea all along? you were tired of hiding your tracks just so they could feel proud when they discovered what you had led them right to.
you told tj as much, and she gave you a soft sort of smile, much more gentle than her usual expression. "well, in any case, i'm proud of you," she said, before looking down, swirling around her mug. "i could use a little bit of your courage."
you tilted your head. "oh yeah?" you asked, "got someone in mind?" of course, you had quite the strong intuition, but you knew it had to come from her.
tj just shrugged. "'m not really looking for anything, right now," she said, non-committal.
"not even from a certain sunshine?" you said, giving her a look, to which she rolled her eyes.
"jesus, not you, too," she said, which had you asking what she meant. "our families have been trying to get us together since we were practically babies," she elaborated, "our moms are best friends."
this new information rolled in your head like creamed butter in a stand mixer. you waited for her to continue.
"and 'm not the kind of person to do what everyone wants, what everyone expects from me," she said.
"oh, really?" you said, sarcastic, "news to me."
she hit your forearm playfully. "'m serious," she said, "and it was fine, because he was on the same page, too, until pretty recently." she looked down. "now he's making it pretty hard to maintain my stone-cold reputation." she said this like a joke, but there was an air of truth to it, too.
you took her hand and squeezed it, because if anyone knew what that felt like, it was you. if anyone knew what it felt like to feel that pull, that pull towards something, someone, who was just so unlike the person you had built yourself up to be, it was you. and you told her us much.
"to the death of the heartbreaker and the ice queen," you said, raising your mug to hers, teasing, but not really, "and the birth of the softie and the lover girl."
she laughed, clinked her mug against yours. "maybe not the death," she amended, "maybe the birth of the softie with a flirtatious streak and the lover girl with a mean one."
you'd toast to that, any day.
later, after you'd prepped for the day's meals, tended to the garden, and planned out tomorrow, you spent a little too much time deciding what to wear for your date, eventually landing on your typical summer uniform of jean cut-offs and a flimsy tank top. you spent a little too much time messing with your hair, a little too much time worrying about how you looked, about everything, but as soon as you saw jeremy that worry all melted away.
you had walked downtown, of course, to the ice cream stand towards the end of the pier, which was attached to the pizza place, and therefore run by the same teenagers. you'd made sure to be on time, but it appeared that jeremy had gotten here early.
he was already standing out front, notably not looking at his phone, just looking around, like he was taking everything in. it felt like a privilege, to see him before he saw you, to simply observe him for a second.
it seemed unfair that you still weren't used to what he looked like without his fishing gear on. this other version of him, this more intimate, everyday version, in goofy cargo shorts and some old t-shirt, seemed almost scandalous in comparison. you'd become so enamored with him, so attracted to him, and you'd only seen his arms bare once before.
it didn't help that he appeared to be wearing a suit jacket over his t-shirt, despite the heat that made the air wilt and waver. his hair curled over the tops of his ears, his face flushed with excitement that multiplied exponentially when he spotted you, now just a couple of steps away from him.
his eyes lit up, his body seemed to hum, like a kid waiting in line for a roller-coaster, finally up next. of course, the first thing he did was wrap you up in a hug. of course, the first thing you did was melt into it.
"beauty!" he exclaimed, "you're here!"
you couldn't help the delighted laugh that he pulled from you as you squeezed him tighter before looking up at him. you smiled, and it wasn't the practice-perfect one, the one that worked on everyone. it was a genuine one, the slightly lopsided one, the toothy one that lit you up from the inside out. "'course i did," you said, before your voice took on a teasing tone. you tugged on his lapel. "you dress up for me, jeremy?"
he blushed, slightly, and you wanted to feel the pink under your lips. for now, you settled with tracing your fingertips across his cheeks and nose, a touch he leaned into, ever so slightly. "you said it was a date," he said, simply, like that explained everything. maybe it did. maybe it explained him.
"you look so handsome," you told him, only because you wanted to, only because it was true. and it was worth it, to watch his eyes well up with bashfulness, to see the way his gaze grew boyishly pleased.
"can't think much 'bout how you look," he said, and it came out soft, almost strained, "know how distracted i get."
with that, with both of you making the other flush, he made to hold the door open for you, followed close behind you as you stood in line, surveying the different flavors.
"what's the chef's favorite flavor?" came his voice from behind you, making you scrunch your mouth up in thought.
"the chef loves a good strawberry," you mused, "what about the fisherman?"
he thought for a moment, appeared to be taking this very seriously. "the fisherman gets something different every time," he told you, and this made a lot of sense. that he wouldn't confine himself to a singular order. "and today, i think it's gonna have to be cotton candy."
"cotton candy?" you asked, surprised, amused.
"oh, yeah," he said, didn't stray from his decision, though, as you stepped up to the counter to order. "lukey knows what 'm talkin' about."
he held out his fist for luke to bump with his own, the teenager sighing, like he was used to this. "hey, jeremy," luke said.
jeremy waved him off. "i thought i said you could call me j-money," he said.
"you did say that," luke deadpanned, picking up a scoop. "i just didn't agree to it."
"what's up, j-money?" jenna, the other worker called, approaching now with a wide grin. "what can we get for you?"
jeremy gave her a fist bump, too. "that's more like it, jenner," he said. "and we're gonna do two scoops of strawberry and two scoops of cotton candy, please and thank you." he turned to you, looked at you like he was trying to read your face. "cup and whipped cream for the berry, cone and sprinkles for the candy."
it wasn't what you'd normally get, but you'd never let him know that. "how'd you know?" you asked, stepping to the side so that the line could move along.
he came up behind you, wrapped his arms around your torso, clasped them in front of you, urging you to lean back into his warm chest. you turned your head to the side, peered up at him. "'m physic about these kinds of things," he said, low, like a secret.
"must be," you mused, a quirk of a smile on your lips.
you both got your ice creams, jeremy insisting on paying, also leaving a tip for luke and jenna, urging the closest thing to a smile you'd seen from luke.
you walked together in stride down to the pier, eventually sitting down on the dock, during which he asked about the menu for this week (cherries, corn, and tomatoes were in right now, so those were your focus), how stan was warming up to you (pretty well, if you did say so yourself), how on earth you had gotten tj to be nice to you (you explained that her nice looked different than other people).
in turn, you asked about how the market was doing (well, especially now that scallops and rockfish had begun to make an appearance), what was new with camp (he'd finally gotten luke's younger sister to hold a rod correctly), what trent was up to tonight (his family liked to do board game nights every week).
as the sun began to sink deeper into the sky, and as your ice cream began to melt into a soupy pink at the bottom of your cup, the conversation naturally became a little more substantial, too. you were surprised at how easily you welcomed that from him, surprised how easily you answered questions about how you got into culinary arts (there was something about food that brought people together in a way nothing else did), what your favorite part of being a private chef was (learning new people and places so closely), what your least favorite part was (you'd always wondered what it'd be like to cook for a larger, more diverse audience).
and you asked him about how he had grown so close to the frederics (trent had been his best friend since he was in preschool), what he loved so much about this place (he knew everyone, loved everyone like they were family), what was so special about fishing (there was nothing quite like feeling as if something as powerful as the sea was on your side).
eventually, the sky was saturated with that blood orange haze, the heat had subsided into something much more drowsy, more pleasant, the kind of air that had your gaze lingering on his mouth as he spoke, as he laughed.
the kind of air that had his knee against yours feeling like something much more serious.
you both took last bites of your ice creams, hands sticky and heads clouded with sweetness. you set your cup down, looked up at him again, found the corner of his mouth blue and pink with residue.
"you have, uh, something, right here," you said, motioning on your own mouth where.
he wasn't embarrassed at all, of course he wasn't, as he made to wipe at the wrong side of his mouth. "did i get it?" he asked, his gaze growing heated, hooded.
you gave a slight shake of your head, bit your lip slightly. how shameless could you be, here? how rotten?
time seemed to slow, to liquify as you reached out a delicate hand, gently swiped at his lips until your fingers felt sticky.
pretty shameless, you decided, especially rotten.
you brought your fingers to your own mouth, sucked the sweetness off of them in a moment, watched the way his eyes practically glazed over, the air vibrating between the two of you.
there was no one else on the dock, the sun was almost done setting, its slow descent all but finished. even if there had been other people there, though, you doubt you would have felt their presence, doubt it would have mattered.
there was very little that seemed to matter, now, as you let him tug you onto his lap, facing him. very little that seemed to matter as your eyes searched his, very little that seemed to matter besides the feeling of him, under you, besides his exhales and yours.
"please," he breathed, entranced, like in a dream, and of course you pulled him to you by the lapel of his ridiculous suit jacket, of course your lips met his in a kiss that felt like waltzing through a rainstorm, like equal parts innocent and sinful, like something cinematic, something spectacular.
you wrapped your arms around his neck, urging the softest of noises from his throat, something like a sigh of relief, something like a whimper as one of his hands found the side of your face, the other pressing against the plane of your back, pushing you closer against his chest.
he tasted like sugar and something waxy, from the sprinkles, making you smile against his mouth, almost laugh. you much preferred this to the kisses of gatorade and vodka, of rum and coke from summers past. this was something beautiful, something so entirely him, and you, and no one else.
his mouth slanted across yours like a smirk, easy as a laugh, and when you pulled away, rested your forehead against his, both of your chests were heaving, mirroring swollen lips and flushed cheeks and heated gazes. his thumb drew barely-there hearts into your jawline.
he looked practically blissed out, from only a kiss, the rambler at a complete loss for words. you smiled. oh, to make the sweet-talker speechless.
he gave your cheekbone the lightest pinch, a thousand words you understood in the action, and then it was your turn to be speechless.
there was something monumental in this quiet, the lull of the ocean harmonizing with your exhaling breaths.
this harmony echoed in your head the whole night, into the next morning, when you got a text from jeremy asking if you were free that afternoon.
freddy wants to take the boat out on the lake, he texted, followed by please come, followed by can't stop thinking about you.
so, of course, because you were very much past being able to say no to him, and because you had finished your work for the day by three, you found yourself on the smaller dock on the lake, dressed for the heat, a swimsuit under your shorts and tank, your bag slung over your shoulder.
tj stood next to you, mumbling something about how you had conveniently left out whose boat this was, to which you mumbled something back about how she probably should have guessed it.
"sunshine?" that odd voice called out once the two of you approached. "didn't know you were comin' out."
"finally got somethin' i can use, eh?" tj said, that sharp tongue quicker than ever.
"should'a warned me," trent shot right back, "would'a worn my five inchers." tj rolled her eyes as jeremy hopped down onto the dock, immediately enveloping you in one of his hugs that you had come to crave.
"hey," you said into his chest, rubbed careful circles into his back.
he pulled back slightly, planted messy kisses on your cheeks and nose until you were giggling. "missed you," he said against your jaw.
"missed you, too," you told him, because it was the truth.
the memory of last night sat between the two of you like a weighted mist, like a velvety curtain, making your stomach flip, making his embrace feel hot. the heat was cut by a familiar voice.
"no wandering hands, frederic," tj said to trent with a warning finger as he made to help her into the boat, placing his hands on her waist.
he rolled his eyes. "relax, sunshine," he said, lifting her smoothly and placing her down, slapping the side of her thigh playfully. "these hands don't wander." his eyes grew teasing. "they know exactly where they're going."
tj scoffed and made to set her things down on the bench at the front of the boat as jeremy crouched down in front of you.
"hop on," he said, grunting slightly as you wrapped your arms around him. he held onto your legs, pushing up as you laid your cheek against the back of his neck. you hadn't had a piggyback ride in ages, and it was just as fun as you remembered.
jeremy stepped up onto the small deck area, walking you up to the front, shifting you and setting you down gracefully on the bench, next to tj.
"thank you," you said, giving him a smile as you put your bag down.
he winked at you. "anytime, beauty."
the lake was stunning this afternoon, like the inside of a snow-globe, without the fake powdery snow.
it was an afternoon distinct in its easiness.
easy, how you and tj chatted about where you'd gotten your swimsuits, you launching into a story that involved a surf shop in nantucket.
easy, when jeremy asked you to help him with his sunscreen. how you gently rubbed the white lotion onto his forehead, his cheeks, how he laughed when you scrunched up your face at the smell, how you squealed when he nipped at your fingers.
easy, how, when the sun began its drowsy dip, the temperature stirring slightly, trent dropped his zip-up hoodie on tj's shoulders and told her to "knock it off and put it on, teej," before she could argue.
easy, how trent insisted that the food you'd brought for them was the best he'd had, even though it was just sandwiches and fruit. how tj said she knew there was a reason she was friends with you, immediately citing the way you'd cut up melon into perfect cubes. easy, how jeremy's lips on yours tasted like watermelon, that afternoon.
it was a beautiful day, through and through, filled with refreshingly-chilly swims and hours laying out in the tart lemony sunshine, until you felt pleasantly tired, until you felt the weight of the day in your limbs, the evidence of a day laughing in your throat and voice.
at some point, jeremy had pulled you onto his lap by the slinky strings of your swimsuit bottom, shifted you until you sat on one of his firm thighs, your legs crossed over the other as you leaned your side into his bare chest. you'd thrown one arm around his neck, tracing your nails over his shoulder, his collarbone.
this, sitting with him like this, like neither of you were really quite sure where one of you ended and the other began, this was easy as breathing. you had nothing to prove to each other, and you felt that lightness like a breeze.
the two of you watched tj and trent bicker with knowing smiles. you commented on what songs were playing from tj's speaker, your favorite concerts you'd been to. you talked about your plans for tomorrow.
when jeremy felt you shiver, he helped you shoulder on the sweater he'd brought.
"you won't be cold?" you asked, balling up the soft fabric in your fists. he only shook his head, kissed your temple, making your smile come easy.
"i run hot, beauty," he said, shifting you closer.
you hummed, feeling just about ready to fall asleep in his arms. "i know," you told him, pressing your lips to his chest, the underside of his strong jaw, which made his exhale shaky. you smiled. "my own heater," you whispered.
"anything for you," he breathed into your ear.
it was almost too much, this confession of his that seemed to get you, every time, combined with the feeling of him all around you, under you, his bare skin against your palms. almost. just enough.
just enough that when you were back on dry land, when the sun had set, when trent and tj had insisted that they'd pack everything up, jeremy's gaze on your frame felt like fire. enough that his grip on your waist felt heavy, made your stomach twist with want. enough that you told him you'd walk back to his place with him, if only to get a couple more seconds in his presence.
until you stood in front of his door, and the air seeming to bend around you like refracting light. you looked up at him, his eyes leaden with desire.
and it was sort of weird, because what was so different about him was how he made you feel younger, more innocent, less of the heartbreaker and more of the easy-to-smile sap.
was it odd that there was something sort of innocent in the purity of the want you felt, then? that there was something almost angelic about just how deeply you wanted him, how it was so undiluted by any other motive. you wanted him because of him, and because of you, and because of everything that had led you to this moment.
did you imagine the halo of light around his head as his gaze caught on your mouth, like a snag on a record player?
"d'you wanna come in?" he murmured.
did you imagine the way that halo melted into something like mischievous horns when you nodded, let him reach around you to unlock the door, lead you inside?
and you'd pause, for a moment, think about how this was technically the first time you'd been in his place, about how much it meant that he had offered this piece of himself to you, about how you wanted him to see your apartment back home, some time.
but that pause would stretch like putty, like something you could hold, when his voice would come out rough, choked, when he would ask, "do you want a tour?"
and you'd tilt your head, like you knew something he didn't, as he'd switch on the hallway light. you'd lean back against the wall, wait for him to settle, right in front of you, a breath apart. "no," you'd say, softly. "later, maybe."
his gaze would grow thicker, and he'd lay a light hand on your hip, boxing you against the wall with his frame. "what do you want, beauty?" you'd reach up, lay an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you. "tell me."
"let me show you, hm?" you'd breathe, and he'd give a desperate sort of nod that'd have you clashing together in a kiss of teeth and flame and fairy-floss sweetness.
now, you whimpered into his mouth as his grip on you grew more forceful, more intentional. he pulled you flush against him, wide hands clutching at your thigh, rooting in your hair.
you hooked a leg around his hip, to which he moaned, his mouth falling open wider, neck falling back, allowing you better access. you left open-mouth kisses down his jaw, his neck, his slight stubble rough under your lips, your teeth, your tongue, as you nipped and sucked, relishing in the noises you drew from him, whimper-ish moans cut with breathy pants.
he was already impossibly hard across your front, you could feel how affected he was by this, by you. it made you smile. it made you pull away, barely, for a second. you brushed his eyelids with your fingertips, willed them to flutter open.
"lost you, there," you said, your voice rough. you were acutely aware of the slow, almost undetectable grind of his hips against you, even though it seemed as if he was doing it subconsciously.
he gave a short shake of his head. "not lost," he rasped, holding the side of your face in his palm. "'m here, beauty, swear it." and maybe lost wasn't the right word, maybe it was something close to blissed out, maybe even fucked out, even from just a kiss, a couple marks on his neck.
"good," you said, and you certainly didn't miss the way his eyes darkened. "then will you let me-"
"yes," he said, before you could finish, which tugged a laugh from your lips, somehow more significant, more telling than any moan could be. he took you by the hand and pulled you to his bedroom.
"didn't let me finish, rotten boy," you teased, to which something like sorrow flashed in his eyes.
"'m sorry, beauty," he said, shutting the door behind him, pulling you onto his lap as he sat on the foot of his bed, and it was something sort of innocent, to be having this same conversation, again. "please, please, tell me what you need."
you massaged the muscles in his shoulders gently with your palms as you shifted on his lap. "need you in my mouth, jeremy," you said, the words heavy in their honesty, weighted when spoken through swollen lips. "let me make out with your cock, yeah?" and there was that glassy look again, simultaneously like he was somewhere far away and in the palm of your hand. you sunk to your knees in front of him, peered up at him through your lashes. "please?"
"fuck," he bit out, tugged and twisted his clothes aside. "yeah, beauty. yeah, you can."
you smiled as you took him in your hands, spit onto his cock, pumped your gentle grip up and down, watched the way his head fell back, the way his thighs clenched when you dug your nails into one to ground you.
that slick, lewd sound echoed in your head, making you aware of how wet you were, how potent the desire inside you had become.
you ran your tongue up the length of him, could have laughed at how his choked exhale gave you butterflies, instead took all of him in your mouth, held your head down until you felt resistance, hollowed out your cheeks.
when was the last time you had done this with a fire in your stomach? the last time you'd wanted, more than anything, to make it so, so good for someone?
you'd known you were good at this, for so long, that you couldn't remember the last time you'd sucked someone off like you had something to prove.
that's what it felt like, now, with the hard, hot weight of him on your tongue. i'd work for you, you seemed to be screaming, i'd let you work for me.
his rooted grip on your scalp was firm, warm. "fuck, beauty, like that," he groaned, the other hand coming to rest on top of yours, on his thigh. like a reminder than he was truly present, that the act of you, like this, wasn't lost on him. like he understood. like he was grateful.
you tilted your head to the side, forced him deeper, the tip running along the inside of your cheek. his neck rolled at the sensation, making you pick your head up off of him, continue to run your hands over his cock, wet with your spit, look up at his flushed face. "like this, baby?" you asked, your movements painfully slow. "bein' so good for me, hm?"
he was nodding, and when he spoke, it was a whine. "please, beauty, can i see you?" he asked, "wanna see all of you, need it."
you were long past being able to deny him something he needed so deliriously, so you let him pull your shirt over your heart, tug your shorts aside, paw at the strings of your swimsuit until there was nothing obstructing his view of you.
you pulled at the edge of his shirt, helped him out of it, and sighed at the sight, at the already darkening bruises on his neck, the solidity of his stomach and chest.
his gaze had grown awestruck, and you found yourself embarrassed, sort of, maybe just restless, at the heaviness of his eyes on you, coating you like a red candy apple.
"get my good side," you managed, throat rough, voice rougher, a smile on your face at the nostalgia of the moment, how you'd been here before.
he laughed, then, a genuine one, pulled you to his chest and kissed you, so gentle and soft your heart sprouted angel wings. "never seen anything so pretty," he mumbled against your lips, urging a flush you felt up your neck.
you grinned, not the one that worked on everyone. the one that worked because it was for him. "please, can i have-"
"yes," he said, and it sent both of you into breathy laughs, because how many times would he say yes to you before knowing what you were asking? then he flipped you onto your back, though, the cottony fabric soft under you. "yeah, beauty, you can have me inside you."
you wanted to ask him how he'd known, but then he dragged his fingers through your folds, found you practically dripping, caught his thumb on your clit, making you jolt. "please," you moaned, "dyin' for it, baby, 'm soaked for you."
"don't need to beg me, beauty," he said, running the head of his cock along your center, making you whimper. his grin grew wicked. "sound so pretty when you do, though."
your reply would have been witty, you were sure of it, but it was mangled, torn from your throat in a strangled sound when he pushed inside of you, finally, slowly, making you clutch at his shoulder for something to hold onto.
the stretch grew as he pushed further into you, until you felt him in your bloodstream, in the back of your head like a memory, in your palms.
"fuck," you bit out, "fuck, just there, hm? stretch me out, baby, want it so bad."
he finally bottomed out, fluttered his molten eyes open again. you watched them soften when they regained focus on you, witnessed yourself become his beacon, calling him home from dreamland.
he pulled back slowly, pushed forward again, began a slow rhythm that had your head spinning, had your vision clouding over, sun showers exploding behind your eyes at the impossible stretch.
time oozed like strawberry jam, thick, you almost expected the clock on the wall to stop ticking entirely, for its face to stare back at you, frozen.
"how's that, beauty?" he rasped, at some point, when his pace had progressed into something more mind-numbing, when your thighs began to feel the start of the coming-soreness, when his stomach and shoulders started to contract and tense in the most delicious way. "that good?"
you nodded, choked on a whimper when he moved his hand to your lower stomach, stretched his thumb to swipe methodically at your clit. "that's, fuck," you tried, exhaling shakily, "fuck, that's so good, baby, you're so good."
you clenched around him, making him stutter, his hips jerking. "won't last like this," he warned, "can't, beauty, feel too perfect. too, fuck, too perfect for me."
he pressed you down harder until you could feel the outline of the mattress against your shoulder blades. "'m close, too," you breathed. "just need, just-"
your words were lost as he dragged the heel of his hand along your clit and back, the friction so stunning that your fingers twitched. "please cum, beauty," he pleaded, like he needed it, like he'd die for it. "cum on my cock, yeah?" you practically writhed around him. "fuck, give me it, hm?"
your high came abruptly and brutally, so sharp and consuming you barely registered his own orgasm, the warmth and sensation of it, the way he dipped his head down to bite gently on your chest, just sharp enough to leave a mark. you only really noticed the way the heavy weight of his body collapsed onto yours, pinning you between his damp chest and the bed.
breaths came slowly and drowsily, as you regained a sense of the room, of time, of space, as he rolled over slightly, just to give you more air, laid a massive arm on the outside of your thigh, pulled you half on top of him.
he looked so beautiful, then, a glossy adoring gaze paired with swollen lips, traces of your mouth all over him. you had a feeling you looked in a similar way, fussed hair and watery eyes.
you could have stayed there for hours, the measure seemed irrelevant, as he palmed, kneaded your thigh softly, as you twisted his messy curls around a finger.
at some point, he brought his free hand up, pinched at his own cheek.
you smiled at the cyclical sense of it all. "you're not dreaming," you rasped.
"oh, i know," he said, a smug, lazy grin peeking through his lips before he turned his cheek to you, expectantly. "i still think you should kiss it better, though."
butterflies stirred in your stomach as you gave a playful roll of your eyes, leaned your head forward to press your lips to his cheek.
"rotten," you breathed.
"for you," he clarified.
dreamland had nothing on here. on this.
you know, i hear she used to be a real heartbreaker, the big hand on the clock whispered, low and secretive.
really? the little hand said, shocked, her? there was a pause. what happened?
the big hand shrugged. don't know, it said. shame.
a real shame.
fin.
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bluetooththereptile · 5 months
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Father in law (part one)
(Potential yandere Bruce Wayne x reader)
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( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)
Note: I use a gender neutral name, Angel, for Bruce's child.
Summary: Your life with your partner isn't going well, you have to do something about it.
Tw: mentions of abuse, harm and unaliving.
The sound of the TV echoed in the living room of the Manor, the atmosphere of the room tense, it had been like that since whenever you visited your partner. You rolled your eyes as you heard the chuckles of the presenters on the screen, a picture of you taken by paparazzi when you were in a hurry plastered on the corner of the screen. Angel tried to distract you by offering you a cup of tea but you declined, making them worry even more for you, but you were too lost in your misery to care.
Since your relationship became serious with Angel your life had become a literal hell, every date had ended up in some form of misery for you, Angel didn't get any of the side effects of your situation though and you didn't know how it had happened. How you had ended up on the paparazzi news, your life displayed as the worst version of what it could be, belittled and bullied, you had lost your job because of your tarnished image and you had lived in your car since your landlady had thrown you out because you were a "sexually deviant, arrogant and abuser" person and she didn't want you close to her own home. Speaking of the car, you had to refill its tank, but you didn't have the money for it. Damn it!
You groaned under your breath as you looked At angel who had tilted their head to the side, calling your name to catch your attention. God, how much you both hated and loved them at the same time. It was easy to love them, they were kind and caring, beautiful in every sense, perfect in every way, no wonder they were so popular, but, that also was the reason that you hated them as well, they had everything you did not, and since the time you had started dating, your life had become a literal hell.
"Angel..." you spoke, a little surprised by your tone, it sounded...weak "I wanted to talk about something..." Their body turned towards you so they could give you their whole attention, you wanted to wince at the gleam in their eyes, they looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, at first it was pleasant to have someone like that but now it was sort of like a hex, giving you the chills. Shivering slightly you cleared your throat and shifted on your seat "I've been thinking about breaking up..."
"What?! Why?!" Angel's hurt voice made you recoil in your seat, you wanted to tell them everything, to tell them all that happened to you had made you miserable, but you only sighed in their response "Something has been bothering you?" Angel's question made you wince, Angel was perfect but had a mortal flaw, they were delusional, you didn't know but it ran in their family. In their eyes you weren't dirty or miserable, you were simply tired, bored, or perhaps a little sick. What was on TV was just a joke, and perhaps you didn't have the humor to laugh at it, you were just a little rusty, that's all, right? Then why you wanted to break up? Was the date you had not good enough? Your dates were so much fun, they always ended up with a funny scene, you had so much fun together, and you were perfect together, why now you were talking about breaking up?
You palmed your face, sighing, looking away from Angel, only to see their father standing in the corner with an interested look on his face, Bruce Wayne, oh God you hated that man to your core, whenever you met him he'd roast you so hard that you'd end up like a lump of burnt coal, the look in his eyes showed that he looked down on you, not to mention his fucking family, ugh, you just wanted to get away from all of this, after all, you got into that mess just for the sake of dating Angel Wayne.
You turned to your partner "Look, I just want to break up okay?" Angel paused, the look on their face darkening, oh dear God here we go. "Am I not enough? Y/N, I have done everything I could to make you happy! What is wrong? Don't you love me anymore?" "No! I don't love you anymore!" You said harshly, wanting to push them away, even if it meant they'd be hurt emotionally, but to your frustration, Angel took in a deep breath before speaking "I know I have been busy with my work and you've been under so much pressure lately, I understand that you feel burnt out and want to take some time apart but breaking up is just overreacting to our situation!"
You felt like you'd want to roll your eyes so hard that they'd come out of the other side of your head, they didn't want to understand, they didn't take no by its literal meaning. You sighed, rubbing your eyes, if it was with someone else you'd feel thrilled that someone was so understanding and considerate, so hell-bent on keeping you by their side but this wasn't that, you felt like you were suffocating under the pressure. Your phone rang, making you flinch, as you looked down at its screen you let out a scoff, it was another call from another unknown number, how your phone number had ended up on the internet for people to bully, you didn't know. You were sick of this, sick of life itself!
No job, no house, your own family hated you for just existing after fabricated evidence of your various offenses had been published, you couldn't hurt a fly, and yet you have assaulted an old lady...sexually?!?! Angel touched your arm to pull you out of your thoughts but then you slapped their hand away. standing up, you didn't even turn to look back at them for the last time, ignoring their pleas "Y/N, you're being ridiculous please stay-" Angel paused as Bruce talked "Let them leave darling..." you rolled your eyes once more before walking away, not looking back to see the smirk on Bruce's face as he held his child
down by their shoulders on their seat; stopping them from following you.
You didn't know why all of this had happened, you didn't know that it was all because of Bruce Wayne, the bastard himself. He had paid people to tarnish your image, ruin your livelihood, and push you into depression so you'd let go of his child, you were never perfect for his Angel, his Angel deserved someone so much better than you. Barging out of the Manor you walked your way outside the yard and the gates, of course, you didn't have the money to pay for a taxi, so you started a walk into the night, too frustrated and angry to think of your safety.
Before you could figure out where you were heading you found yourself in front of the drugstore your mother used to take you to, the cashier was still the same old lady with those large eyeglasses. Without thinking you headed into the store, perhaps some nostalgia would help? The smell of lavender filled your nostrils, you walked to the second isle to avoid eye contact with the cashier, sighing as you looked at the different things for sale, until your eyes landed on the familiar brown bottle, something that your mother used to call her little helpers...Xanax.
You reached out for the bottle and looked at it, whenever your mother took one of these everything seemed better since she'd end up more relaxed, perhaps if you were to take some you'd feel better too? But you didn't have the money to buy it, and clearly, you didn't want to embarrass yourself by asking to borrow it, so you looked around, and since the only camera in the old store was way away from you, you quickly put the bottle in your pocket, walking out of the store as if nothing had happened, you'd finally have some resemblance of relaxation soon.
....
Angel's cries echoed in the Manor as they banged their fists on the door, pleading for their father to be let out, they had to see you, they had to touch your body, even if it meant it was cold already. Bruce closed his eyes, leaning to the door of their room as he tried to think of something else, something other the fact that your suicide had ended up messing his child so much that they had gotten into a maniac episode. Dick had found your body in the car, motionless with the empty bottle of pills, you had given up on everything.
But what bothered Bruce was not your death or Angel's distress, it was the fact that he felt...pain. surely it wasn't because he deep down had softened up a little for you, right? He had told himself those lies for about a week, and it was driving him mad, he had to do something about it to save both his sanity and Angel's, and he'd do anything in his power to make things right.
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sebscore · 11 months
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DRIVER X TGD HEADCANONS | LANDO VER.
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pairing: lando norris x driver!reader
author’s note: the next part of the headcanons series !! 🧡 this time our british rumplestiltskin is up! :) hope you enjoy it!
headcanons masterlist
• • • • • •
:: They met when they were 8-9 years-old at a karting competition.
:: Lando spilled his caprisun on her and she was very angry at him, cause she was wearing her favourite shirt.
:: Lando’s mom gave her on of his spare shirts which she still has until this day (no, it doesn’t fit anymore).
:: They weren’t immediate best friends, but would talk to each other quite often.
:: They live in the same apartment complex in Monaco, but they almost never run into each other.
:: Sometimes when one of them has cooked, they text the other one asking if they would like some of it.
:: Often the answer is yes and they go to the chef of the day’s apartment.
:: Their love language is roasting one another.
:: Whenever they’re asked about who their best friend is on the grid, they answer each other.
:: She is the most featured person on his jpg account aka his fan-account for her despite claiming it isn’t.
:: They bully George together.
:: Friends who bully together, stay together <3
:: They have drunkenly promised each other that if they’re both not married by the age of 40 that they’ll marry each other.
:: They’re both pretending they don’t remember that.
:: Max (Fewtrell) does and he’s waiting for the right opportunity to tell them.
:: Lewis thinks they’re more than friends, but is like Sebastian and doesn’t mention it- he just sits back and observes.
:: She was taller than him at one point in their lives and she’s never going to let him forget that.
:: Y/N is Lando’s hypewoman whenever he is dj’ing.
:: He was one of the first people to hug her when she got her first win in F1 :)
:: Sometimes they are referred to as ‘the twins’ by the other drivers, because of how inseparable they are.
:: dumb and dumber duo
:: aka Daniel’s kids.
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taglist :: @cl16version @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @alonsogirlie @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123 @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis @champomiel @ooooohmicky @koufaxx @flannelforthetoads
@mysticfalls01 @ghostcorazon @mango-bear @totally-random-person @youkissedareaderinthedark @phoenix-luv @hamilton-mount @calcaneous @aurora-maria @idkiwantchocolatee @anonymous-platypus1
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merbear25 · 2 months
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Enjoying the little things
There's never a dull moment when you're with him even on days that are calmer than others. On days like these, small flickers of his inner thoughts give you a deeper understanding of him.
Zoro, Mihawk, Sanji, Law
CW: SFW, gn!reader, established relationship, headcanons + drabbles.
Zoro: training in the early morning, the brisk breeze, a chill in the air. He enjoys waking up and being productive when the rest are still sound asleep. It gives him the feeling of having the upper hand. When there's a chill in the air, it hitches his breath, reminding him to maintain his breath control. The brisk breeze feels nice against his skin as he's training, acting like a natural cooling system.
You asked to accompany him on one of his early training sesssions, of course, already knowing you'd have to wake up before the crack of dawn. He agreed to let you tag along but added that he didn't want to hear any complaining about how early it'd be or tired you'd feel. Crossing your heart, you gave him your word that you'd be on your best behavior.
Waking up the next day was showing to be difficult though, while you weren't, and would never be, a morning person. Despite your sluggish steps getting out of bed, you put on a good face when you noticed Zoro, who was already geared up to set out for the day.
Taking a double take, your body language was hinting to him that you were probably going to be a thorn in his side this morning. Paying it no mind, he gestured for you to come to the upper deck of the Sunny. You simply nodded while trying to hide the regret on your face.
However, you would have never guessd how grateful you would be to see him with the soft glow of the morning sun speckling his sunkissed body. After each set, his usually furrowed brow was instead eased, and his walls appeared to lower to the gentle breeze of the ocean air.
"You're staring at me," his even tone broke the silence of the new day. "Why?" You didn't have much of a response so blurted out the first thing that came to mind that being that he looked unbelievably handsome. In saying this, you couldn't have predicted any other reaction out of him—he went rimson. Averting his eyes from the sudden shock of your blaten honesty, he could barely utter a 'thanks' before continuing his regime.
Mihawk: the crackling of a fire, sunsets, clear nights. He likes being under the stars and how they, as well as the moon light his way. Sunsets bring a peaceful end to the day, covering the sky and illuminating rooms with its soft color. The fire supplies warmth, not just with heat, but also in atmosphere. The crackling brings a sense of liveliness to the cold interior of the castle.
Sitting in the study together was one of your favorite ways to spend time with him. It was almost routine at this point to end the day by joining him infront of the fireplace, each of you curled up with your own book. Even though the castle was built from cold bricks and stone, the fireplaces throughout it gifted the both of you with comfort.
The natural light of the day was dimming to pinks and oranges, letting the fire become more prominent within the room. Embers from tonight's flames were rather lively: the wood splintered and cracked. Feeling the roasted firewood on your person, you affectionately shifted your gaze to him.
His intense stare had been softened by its brilliancy; exhailing, the moon's illuminating beams entranced him next. He must have known you were watching him, though he refrained from calling attention to it. While your eyes kept on him, you saw slight alterations in his stoic stature: his lips twitched at the corners, his eyelids lifted and lowered more slowly, and his chest rose and fell at a much steadier pace, as if he was admiring something in the distance, just outside the window.
When he finally decided to acknowledge your gaze, you didn't shy away from it, and he didn't ask why you were watching him. Instead, you let the tender love you had for him be expressed through a knowing smile. The corners of his mouth were faintly tugged, almost resembling one in return.
Sanji: sunrises, the smell of coffee and tea, sharing a meal. The shades of orange, pink, and purple remind him of the love and passion he has always had for his friends and dreams. The smell of coffee and tea awaken his senses, sharing a meal gives him a sense of gratitude that he has people to eat around the table with.
Sanji was one of the first of the crew to wake up, afterall, he was in charge of feeding everyone. However, you were there to greet him in the kitchen this morning. Having already started the coffee, you thoughtfully asked how he'd like it. Seeing you this early was a lovely surprise.
He'd tried insisting on you letting him prepare the drinks, but you reassured him that you could manage making the coffee just fine. Upon joining him at the table, you noticed a sincerity to him that you hadn't come across before. With the warmth of dawn peaking in through the window, you wondered if he'd always had this side to him that perhaps you overlooked. Either way, you couldn't help returning his peaceful gaze.
Reaching out to hold your hand, he made sure to thank you. To you the gesture of making coffee was so minute, although it seemed from his appreciation, that it really is the thought that counts. Returning his love with a light squeeze of his hand, he scanned the slight waves of the sea. The tones of pink and orange were now mixing into purple.
"Aren't sunrises beautiful?" he asked in a rosey tone. Before agreeing with him, you admired the man, his eyes being filled with hope and joy. You added that they're much more beautiful when enjoying them with someone you care about. Turning to you, he was grateful for having shared this morning with you.
Law: the creaking of branches, rustling of leaves, crickets chirping. These serve as a reminder of the different forms of life that make up our world. Nature is a majestic force, and although it can be frightening at times, it means he's never truely alone. There is a sort of comfort in knowing this.
The day had shown to be a taxing one. Having accomplished far less than he'd wanted to, he excused himself to his study to reevaluate his approach. The Polar Tang was to stay docked at the island's port until the crew was able to gather the necessary items and information they'd originally set out for, which meant being tied to an island as breathtaking as this one until further notice.
There was a steady wind that night: the branches of the surrounding trees were swaying, their leaves accompanying them in rustling. Peace and tranquilty were gradually replacing the qualms of the disappointing day. Looking around, you just came to the realization that you hadn't seen Law since reboarding the submarine.
Taking it upon yourself to check up on the most likely sulking captain, you began making your way to where he said he'd be. Upon reaching it, however, you were met with a vacant room. Running through all of the other locations he could be, you settled on checking on deck again.
Low and behold, there he was, seemingly brooding against the railing. When you approached him, you noticed that his eyes were shut, and although his eye brows weren't eased, his breaths were drawn out in an unagitated manner. It was then that your ears caught on to the distant sound of chirping from crickets. Even with the rustling of the leaves and creaking of the branches, the song of those insects could still be heard.
He opened one eye to measure you up, but closed it again when you placed your hands on the railing, looking out dreamily at the darkened forest. The energy being released from Law was the exact opposite of earlier. Without having to say anything, you understood that there was a comfort he found in nature. You didn't want to ruin his rarely peaceful demeanour, so you just let yourself enjoy the scenery with him in silence.
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