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#SHE’S FREE FROM THE BASEMENT!!!!!!
t0bey · 2 years
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Name’s alice deross yo
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I think this is one of my favorite lines from the Wraith route because of (imo) how much the meaning changes depending on if you got there via Spectre or Nightmare. For Spectre, it honestly strikes me as a genuine question. Why are you doing this to her? If you're on the Spectre route, you presumably already know the Narrator can't really be trusted, since you had to reject his reward to get here. What are you hoping to gain from continuing to hurt her? For Nightmare, it honestly just makes me sad. As the Shifting Mound describes her, "She desires only companionship, but the only thing she knows is how to hurt." This line feels like a plea from someone who genuinely doesn't understand why you keep rejecting her. She wants to be with you, but she just can't understand how to do that in a way which doesn't hurt you.
#at the risk of getting put on a list there is something tragic & relatable in nightmare#someone who desperately wants to make connections but just can't understand how#anyway wraith is one of my favorite princesses for stuff like this (and bc tragedy aside her route is a riot)#also im sorry if she doesn't say that line if you got there via nightmare#that's how i got her and i could've sworn she did? But i only found footage of her saying it in spectre#slay the princess#stp#stp wraith#the wraith#stp spectre#stp nightmare#side note archetypal/heart#(slash so i don't accidentally tag them)#pointed out on another post of mine that you get wraith via nightmare by killing her and via spectre by leaving her in the basement#in both cases its a rejection of her (rejection being one of wraith's main themes)#which makes me speculate on spectre's ch 3 (which i think we currently have very little info on?)#Trying to run from Nightmare should technically be a 'rejection' as well#but you get MOC from that (and from choosing to stay with her)#imo bc you're just repeating the same inaction which got you into this situation in the first place#you don't want to slay her. you don't want to set her free. So you just leave her there (again)#and so you get MOC where things have only gotten worse and you have no choice left. Because you chose *not* to take action again#So I wonder if spectre 3 will be a similar 'repeating your past mistakes' type of deal#i was skeptical about it coming from stabbing yourself while she possesses you or trying to crush her bones#but it does make sense with that in mind#im curious if it'll parallel MOC#except instead of having no choice but to free the princess you have no choice but to obey the narrator again#maybe you both end up stuck in the cabin forever again?#idk#sorry i probably should've put all of that tag in the post lmao
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leche-flandom · 11 months
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We're rewatching "The Glory" and
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maeiso-trash · 2 years
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A Kayano based on the newly released merch that STILL doesn't include her :')
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gothicprep · 1 year
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it’s getting too hot to run outside unless I decide to do it at 5AM – am I awake then anyway? usually. however, this does not control for the fact that the vibe is OFF at that hour of the day – and I’m too much of a cheapskate to pay for a gym membership, even if it’s a bobo gym like planet fitness. so I have one choice left… sneak into my moms house when she’s at work and use her treadmill. I only exist because she was one of two parties that wanted me too, and I think this entitles me to the goddamn treadmill.
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isfjmel-phleg · 2 years
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s-cullayy · 7 months
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This girl I used to work with texted me at 1:40 last night which was weird on its own since the last time I saw her was like 2018 and she got fired the next day (she was a rehire who should’ve never been rehired) but it’s mainly weird because she called me Theo and I didn’t make that switch until after I left that shithole so ????? howmst and whomst
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inkskinned · 1 year
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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maplesyrupsainz · 8 months
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙private, not a secret | MV1˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: max verstappen x wife!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: social media au, established/secret relationship
warnings: very fluffy :))
summary: in which you and your husband like to keep things on the low so much so that none of his fans know about the family you have together
a/n: i luv this req tbh i lowkey luv writing kids in it's sooo cute im lowkey broody af atm too 😭 helllll
request!!!: Hi!! Could I request an smau with max where he has a secret family or something idk I just think it could be really cute !
fc: various blonde girls from pinterest
my masterlist
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twitter ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and others
yourusername my beautiful life
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maxverstappen1 my girls
yourusername 💓
carlossainz55 god i look so cool
yourusername hahahhh yeaaa
carlossainz55 ???
yourusername nothing mate😄
yourbff aww i need to come see you guys
yourusername yes please omg 😧 alice said she misses her fav aunt !
only accounts that follow yourusername may see this post
messages ->
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instagram ->
maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, and 88,928 others
maxverstappen1 beach day
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user7 omg hi y/n
user8 YES A Y/N FEATURE
user9 omg he let her out of the basement
user10 💀
danielricciardo go off
maxverstappen1 yessss!!! whatever that means
user11 lol
charles_leclerc tell y/n we want her at the next race please
maxverstappen1 she will come if the babysitter is free 👍
*comment deleted by maxverstappen1*
maxverstappen1 she said she'll think about it 🧠
user12 WHAT
user13 Urmmmmmmm did you guys see the deleted comment
user14 do max & y/n have children?
twitter ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and others
yourusername let's ignore max's deleted comment slip up shall we
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charles_leclerc i am sorry on his behalf y/n 🙏
yourusername hahah dont worry about it charlie
oscarpiastri get him on a time out asap
liked by yourusername
yourbff aww the world deserves to know about little alice
yourusername they will soon we're keeping her childhood safe for now
maxverstappen1 you already know she's gonna come watch her dad race soon 😎
yourbff im sure she'll find that very fun max
yourusername hahah that's what i said
maxverstappen1 😒
only accounts that follow yourusername may see this post
interview ->
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transcript (sorry if it's hard to read😭) ->
there is always going to be rumours ahout my relationship considering we keep things to ourselves, neither of us find it necessary to comment on them very often. *laughs* i've never heard anyone say i'm hiding y/n, no. we have always been private but never ever a secret and that's how it will remain for the most part
twitter ->
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instagram ->
maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 1,124,293 others
maxverstappen1 a small insight into our (family) life
tagged: yourusername
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user21 NOOOO WAYYYYY
user22 this is so so so so precious
user23 omg i feel so honoured that this is being shared with us even tho it's only a small piece of their lives 🫶
user24 max being a girl dad JUST MAKES SENSE
liked by yourusername
yourusername i love you!!
maxverstappen1 i love you more ❤️
user25 this is so special
charles_leclerc love you guys
liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername
danielricciardo congratulations again bro you have a such a beautiful family
maxverstappen1 thank you daniel 😄
twitter ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and others
yourusername this account will never go public gang dont worry!! especially because im pregnant again 🤫
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oscarpiastri omg congratulations y/n
maxverstappen1 and me?
oscarpiastri oh right yea sorry max forgot, congratulations mate
danielricciardo congratulations guys 🫶
liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1
charles_leclerc so so happy for you guys
yourusername ❤️❤️❤️
yourbff 🤰 ur glowing
yourusername i heart you
maxverstappen1 you are so beautiful
yourusername stop it you im blushing
maxverstappen1 i love making you blush
yourusername i love you
maxverstappen1 i love you my girl 💗
only accounts that follow yourusername may see this post
THE END ❤️
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zaczenemiji · 3 months
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Hi! Just saw your request are open. I thought it would be a great to request a OS of Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader.
I got inspired by that song of "Too Sweet" from Hozier and I got the idea of how good is Reader with Emi, (since she knows he's Ultraman and also raises a baby Kaiju alone) such a Sunshine, even Emi sees her as a new maternal figure, he thinks she's too sweet, getting the idea of having kids with her but having the thought she deserves better.
But she thinks on the contrary, he's such a bad boy with a good heart. If you wanna add more things, it's up to you. I'll leave it to your imagination. Take your time and no need to rush. Take care.
Too Good, Too True
Kenji Sato x Reader
Word Count: 1,456
Genre/Warnings: Established Relationship, Found Family
Author’s Note: Particularly in love with this one, and Too Sweet plays rent-free in my head.
MASTERLIST
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You know everything about Kenji: his past—the reason he’s distant from his dad, his secret—that he’s Ultraman, and his love child the 20-foot-tall kaiju baby in his basement.
You guys have been together for a long while now, even before everyone knew him as Ken Sato, the baseball star—the one whose name dominates the headlines.
With millions of adoring fans, you’re grateful you still have a place in his life. At first, there was a looming thought at the back of your head that tells you how easily replaceable you are.
No matter how you repress the thought, the fact remains that it is true. Who are you when compared to Kenji? You weren’t a model, an icon, a singer, or the daughter of a CEO—like all the other women waiting in line for him.
You were just… you. Simply (y/n) in her soft pastel and floral dresses. You don’t own a lot either, just a flower shop in LA. Your favorite hobby is tending to your garden where you grew the flowers that you sold.
All of your issues regarding this have long been resolved since Kenji has always been quick to reassure you of his love. That to him, everything and anyone else pails in comparison to you. He wishes you knew your impact on his life.
You have always been his breath of fresh air. It started at college during his baseball trainings, he’d wait for a certain girl to pass by. His eyes were always quick to find you among your group of friends.
On his games, you were his number one cheerleader. Your friends and his teammates were always so surprised to see the quiet dainty girl that you were yelling and cheering for his name.
Back when his mom was around, you got along with her so well. Kenji would find you and his mom in their kitchen baking cakes and making cute little pastries.
His mom loved having you around. You were always welcome at his house. When she found out that you were an international student who flew to LA alone and lived in a dorm, she almost wanted to adopt you.
But ain’t no way Kenji wanted to be just a brother in your life.
Many things have changed since then. In becoming a baseball star, half of his life was no longer private. In becoming Ultraman, his responsibilities were no longer limited to that of his career and personal life. And in becoming a daddy to a kaiju baby, he realized you deserve better.
You came over to his house every day to visit Emi. He admired your patience with her and how you were always a ray of sunshine to everyone, including a kaiju. And you’re not afraid of playing with her even if she could literally crush you out of nowhere.
You’d come over with fresh flowers picked from your parents’ garden. You’d make big flower crowns just for Emi and smaller ones for yourself and Mina.
Today was a particularly rough day as Kenji got home from a game. You wanted to accompany him today but he insisted for you to watch over Emi. He has been feeling like shit lately, not knowing what to do with Emi and his declining performance in his games.
Upon passing by the kitchen table, he sees a can of his favorite fizzy drink. Under it, a note. He lifted the can and read, “left this up here so mina won’t see (。- .•)”
For the first time that day, he smiled. You’ve always told him how lucky you thought you were for being with someone as great as him. But the truth is, it’s the other way around.
In one go, he finished his drink so he could immediately head down to see you. You and Mina were too busy playing with Emi to notice him. He stayed at the lounge where he could see you from the other side of the glass.
There you were, beautiful, with flowers adorning your hair. You looked so pure and innocent. Your gentle demeanor had always put him at ease.
Your expressive eyes looked up at Emi in an attempt to communicate beyond words. Kenji loved your eyes. They were always filled with warmth and kindness but when you look at him, all he sees is love.
On the contrary, there’s him. He and his troubled past.
He is distant from his dad, wanting little to no connection with him. If it wasn’t for his mom, he wouldn’t have returned to Japan.
You weren’t like that. You had a good relationship with your parents. You deserve someone who could give you and your future children the same kind of environment you grew up in—peaceful and without the fear of the possibility that one day, your husband might not come home.
He worries he’d be like his dad, absent. He is Ultraman now. His duties would one day require him to be away, sometimes without notice and for extended periods. You deserve someone who can be there for you consistently.
He is constantly under the scrutiny of the public eye, both as Ultraman and the baseball star that he is. And the public is not often gentle. You deserve a private and peaceful life, away from the criticisms of society.
Kenji loves you dearly, he really does. But oftentimes, he thinks he’s not the best person for you. He thinks you deserve someone who can offer you a simpler and safer life.
Too deep in his thoughts, he failed to notice you enter the room. The kiss you gave on his cheek pulled him back to reality.
“Tough day?” You asked, sitting beside him on the couch.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “But I’m okay now. You’re here now.” He turned to look at you, his rest.
“Would you like to talk about your day?” You asked, reaching out to brush strands of his hair away from his face.
He shook his head. “I’d like to hear about yours first.”
You smiled, excited to tell him what you planned on doing. Since he’s staying here in Japan for good, you thought you would too. The flower shop in LA would be left in a good friend’s care. And here, you thought of working as a kindergarten teacher. You had doubts before but after being able to take care of Emi and enjoying it, you were now sure that this is the kind of job for you.
Kenji’s expression shifted upon knowing this. A shadow of doubt crossed his face. “What’s wrong?” you asked. “Do you not approve?”
“You deserve better,” he said, eyes falling downward before turning away to lean properly on the couch.
Confused, you leaned back as well. “Better job?” You asked. “Kenji, I think this is the bes—“
“Better than a guy who’s got a kaiju baby to take care of and a past, present, and future that’s complicated,” he continued his earlier statement, cutting you mid-sentence.
You were shocked. You never expected him to feel this way. You felt bad because for every time he assured you of his love, you failed to realize that he needed reassurance too.
“Oh no, Kenji,” you said. You turned his face to look at you, cupping it with both of your hands. “You’re a good man.”
“I’m worried, (y/n),” he said softly. “I worry that I can’t give you the life you deserve.“
He wants to marry you, he truly does. He dreamed of having children with you, teaching them, watching them grow. And when all is done, living the rest of his life with you.
When he passes by jewelry stores, he always thinks of you. He’d get in, and browse their selection of rings, but thinking of how you’re too sweet for him holds him back from buying.
"You're the best man for me, Kenji. Not despite your past and your duties, but because of them. They've shaped you into the person I love,” you told him.
“You're a wonderful father to Emi. And if you ever wanted more—if you ever wanted us to be more,” you leaned in to press your forehead on his. “I know you'll be an amazing father because of how you love me every day.”
Kenji closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the tension slowly leaving his body. "You really believe that?"
"Every word," you said softly. "You are my home, Kenji. As long as we're together, I'm not afraid of anything."
He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, (y/n),” he said. “I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You'll never have to find out," you replied, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots
@flowerloves
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moongreenlight · 11 months
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Have you ever seen that corny ass skit where it’s the girl talking to her husband asking him to fix things and he says “I’m not a plumber” “I’m not a carpenter” bla bla bla and then one day he comes home and the girl’s like “oh yeah I had the neighbor come over to fix the things you wouldn’t” and the neighbor says she can either bake him a cake or sleep with him as payment so the husband asks “so what kind of cake did you bake him?” And the girl says “I’m not a baker?”
Very much Neighbor!Price x stay-at-home-mom!reader coded :)
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
Neighbor!Price who’s found a quiet little cul-de-sac to settle in when he’s got some time off. It’s a little neighborhood, mostly older people who’re thrilled to have a man like him around to help bring out bins and offer to mow their lawns or rake their leaves or shovel their drives when he’s around.
But somehow he’s found the only other younger family in the area living directly next to him. Parents are a few years his junior, and they’ve got two young kids. He assumes the boy, the older one, is early elementary age- sees you herding him into the car in the morning with a pack lunch and a backpack that’s nearly the same size as he is to and from the house in the morning and afternoon. And the girl, the younger, must be in pre-k, because she’s only out for half the day and doesn’t get the same pack lunch her brother gets.
He’s gotten to know you pretty well. When he’s around, the two of you will chat while you’re tending your garden and he’s working in his garage carrying out some odd project or another. He thinks you’re sweet. Likes the way you wear overalls with a little top when you’re planting flowers in the beds out front. How when you bend over or stand at the right angle he can imagine you’re not wearing a top at all.
He hates your husband. He’s crass and rude and never waves hello to any of the neighbors- odd for such a friendly little community. Leaves for work early and comes home late and leaves you to fend for yourself all day. Doesn’t know how to interact with you or your kids. And Price is almost certain he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked because his bedroom window looks over your living room and he’s caught you on the couch with your hand down your pants more times than could have been coincidence.
He’s known to be the neighborhood handyman. Got a little workshop set up in his garage and a general knowledge about nearly everything, so it’s not uncommon that he gets a knock on the door a few times a week. Usually it’s some of the older neighbors popping over to see if he can fix their TVs or help their grandkids connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you turn up on his porch mid-morning.
You’re scrunching the ends of your soaking wet hair in a towel. Apologizing as soon as you hear him turn the deadbolt. Feverishly going on about how you must have blown a circuit in the bathroom trying to dry your hair and you’d usually be able to manage but your husband shoved a bookshelf in front of the breaker and you can’t get through to it.
He’s sweet about it. Always is, but especially for you. Follows you over to your place and promises you no less than ten times that it’s really no trouble. He’s happy to help. It’s a quick fix, but he drags it out as long as he can. Insists on following you up and down the stairs from the basement to the top floor twice to make sure everything’s working properly.
He notices that the bathroom door sticks and that the fire alarm in the hallway is chirping from a low battery. You apologize for the toys in the living room and the clean laundry pile on the couch and the state of your house. Say that your husband is racking up a hefty to-do list with a small laugh that’s just a bit too forced.
He’s thrilled to tell you that he’s got some free time later in the week and says he’ll come over if only to help out your husband. Makes some backhanded remark about how your husband is clearly a busy lad. You refuse- of course- sweet thing that you are, but he turns up the next day after you’ve taken your kids to school anyway.
He tails you up the drive so there’s no way you can shut him out. Shushes you when you try to apologize for one reason or another and takes off to fix not only the sticky bathroom door and the fire alarm batteries, but also the dripping kitchen faucet and the garbage disposal that’s been broken for months.
You try to stay clear of whatever room he’s working in, chirping short responses to whatever nonsense question he asked in an attempt to lure you over. It was only when he was about to head out and he saw you leaning on the dryer to keep it shut that he saw his golden opportunity.
You were clearly trying to hide it, but even with a small load of clothes in, it sounded like you’d thrown a pair of boots into a tin garbage pail and shook it hard as you could. You tried to shoo him off, but he wasn’t having any of it.
There’s enough skirting around the subject to give you chance to turn down his advances, but when he realizes you’re not outright telling him to go fuck himself, he’s essentially taking it as a challenge to see if he can’t push you to that point.
Hoists you up on the still clanging machine and pushes between your legs on the weak pretense of needing you there to keep the door shut while he works. The machine shook the straps of your top down off your shoulders and made him acutely aware of the fact that you hadn’t had the time to put on a bra yet. It made his pants near painfully tight on the crotch.
He’d try and make idle chat. Your kids and plans for the day, but it’s entirely too hard for him to focus on anything other than the way your thighs are pressing together as the dry cycle started to bang the machine around more. He makes a light comment about how he’s not sure how you get anything done around the house with the dryer in this state. Your laugh is breathy.
And when he leans over you to reach to the back of the machine, he can feel the way your soft panting breaths fan his neck. Confirms his suspicions.
“Alright?”
You’re chewing the inside of your lip while you nod. Clearly starved for stimulation if all it takes is a dry cycle to get you off. Poor thing.
It’s stuffy in the laundry room. Adds to the appeal. Makes your shorts ride up and stick to your legs. Your thighs are dewy and glide together when you shift under his gaze.
“You sure, doll?”
The two of you are almost nose-to-nose. You’re leaned back, caged in by his big arms that look even bigger in his almost obscenely tight shirt. He’s smiling. Letting his eyes wander to your collarbones. The way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.
Before you could choke out your answer, the dryer stopped. Chimed the alert and slowly stilled. You took a shaky breath and nodded once more, looking like you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. He backed off, stretched out his hand to help you down.
You lead him to the kitchen. Ask if you can get him anything. Tea or food. He declines. You say something about stopping to get cash when you’re out picking up your daughter in a couple hours. He declines again.
“John, really, I appreciate your help. You have to let me get you back.”
You’re filling the kettle with water anyway, leaned just slightly over the sink. He knows it’s impolite to stare, but he’s never had very good manners when it came to things like that.
“Bake me a cake or somethin’, then. Sleep with me. Won’t take your money, though.”
You whirl around and end up sloshing some water down your front. Doesn’t seem to phase you. Your eyebrows are damn near at your hairline.
“I don’t know if that’s appropriate, considering…”
He snorts a soft laugh. It’s kind- not at all suggestive. Like he’s playing off a clever joke.
“What? Baking me a cake?”
You purse your lips and set the kettle on the stove.
“Never been a very good baker.”
He about hurdles the kitchen island like he’s running track.
“That right?”
You make a thoughtful sound before clicking on the burner. He can see you biting back a smile. You finally turn to face him. Leaned back on your hands with your head cocked slightly to the side.
“I just don’t know that it would be appropriate given our- my- situation.”
It’s his turn to hum and nod. Take a few steps forward, slow and slinky like a predator stalking toward its prey.
“Sure.”
You chew your bottom lip. Try to find some resolve in fussing with your wedding ring. It’s horrible. Small. He can’t help but think about how he’d be able to get you a much better one. He takes a few more steps forward.
“It’s complicated, John.”
Your voice is mousy now.
“I know.”
A few more steps forward and he’s back nose-to-nose with you. Pinning you against the counter.
“I just-“
“Then tell me to go home.”
The button of his jeans grazes your groin and sends sparks up your spine. You recoil slightly, but he’s got his massive hands on your wrists to keep you in place.
“My husb-“
“Don’t. S’not what I said. Tell me to go home. Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave. S’easy as that.”
The coarse hair of his beard brushes along your jaw. Visible goosebumps rise all the way up your neck and down your arms.
“John, he-“
A throaty growl from him.
“He’s not getting a lick of you.”
And then somehow he’s got you on your back on the couch. Shoved off the pile of laundry and pushed you down. His eyes are near pitch black and hungry. Ravenous. He tears off your shorts. Doesn’t wait for you to hoist your hips, just yanks so hard that you’re a little worried you’ll get thrown off the couch with them.
He is wretched. Planting wet kisses from the inside of your knee all the way up to your sex frustratingly slow. Big hands splayed over your hips to keep you from bucking up into his mouth. He’s got this maddeningly smug smile on his face like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say I told you so. Like he knew this was going to happen from the start, you were just too stupid to see.
Your underwear is embarrassingly wet from your little go on the dryer. Your pussy puffy and sensitive underneath. You whine when he kisses over the damp spot. Laves his tongue over your folds without pulling them to the side. He makes some comment about the state of you that borders on snarky, but you choose to ignore it.
When he finally does rid you of your panties, there’s a moment of clarity where you realize what you’re doing. You push up on your elbows and try to roll out from under him, but he gives your clit a mean slap that forces you back onto the couch and ends your protest. Sends you to that liminal, clouded headspace where all you can focus on is how desperately you need to come.
It’s clear he’s savoring the moment. Running the point of his tongue through your folds. Teasing at your hole. Artfully swirling around your clit, but never close enough to give you the friction you’re so desperately craving. Planting hot, wet kisses on your inner thighs. Leaves a few love bites in his wake like he’s boasting; so certain your husband wouldn’t get close enough to notice that he had no problem decorating you as he pleased.
You’re a mess. Being taken apart stitch by stitch. Panting and whining and begging for more. Your orgasm is coiling tight under your belly without him having to do much. Any other time you’d have felt a little pathetic, but you were too preoccupied to care now.
He finally brings his hands up and you think he’s about to stuff you full, but he only lets his fingers drag slowly along your sensitive sex. Collects some of your arousal and pulls it up toward your naval. Watches the goosebumps form under his touch.
He rucks your shirt up with his free hand and immediately wraps his lips around your pebbled nipples. Tongues at them. Lets his teeth graze teasingly over them. And whatever one he’s not got currently in his mouth, he’s working his fingers over. Pinching and flicking until you’re teary eyed and squirming under him.
And then finally, fucking finally, he ducks back down and fixes his mouth on your clit. Sucks gently on the swollen bud for just a moment and then companies his mouth with two fingers bullying their way inside you.
The stretch is almost uncomfortable in its suddenness, but you quickly get used to it. The pleasure is blinding. Forces you to throw your head back against the cushion and screw your eyes tightly shut. A string of high, needy moans float through your gaped lips.
He’s sweet, Jesus, is he. Hums and groans with his mouth still on your bundle of nerves. Pulls away just enough to tell you how pretty your pussy is taking him before going back to work on your sensitive clit. You want to scream. You think you may actually come entirely undone on this couch if he doesn’t stop.
And then your orgasm coils so tightly within you that it explodes outward. Tears through you and leaves every square inch of your skin sizzling. He doesn’t let up. Pins you down by the stomach with his forearm and continues down his warpath. The sounds his fingers make when they sink into you are so pornographic that it makes your face hot.
You eventually find it in you to warble out something that sounded like please, too much. And he pulled off, still with that smug grin pulling his lips now surrounded by glistening slick caught in the hair of his beard.
He gives you one last kiss. Lewd and wet and so searing hot you’re worried it will actually blister the sensitive flesh of your cunt. He’ll sit back on his haunches and fuss with the button and zipper of his jeans before saying something horrible and cheeky like
“C’mon, doll. Thought you were set on payin’ me back.”
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AITAH for telling my wife no?
My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.
Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.
Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.
A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.
Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.
I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.
When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.
She told my parents the promotion included relocation.
I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.
What are these acronyms?
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cuppajj · 3 months
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Neo beasts x reader head cannons? 🥺
You know what anon? Just for you
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Beast Ancients AU - Neo Beasts x Reader Headcanons
Congratulations! Someway somehow you’ve attracted the attention—and affection—of the Neo beasts. How do each treat you?
Saint Vanilla Cookie
This implies that he’s decided not to purify you out of his intense compassion. In fact, he’s settled for something arguably much worse: saving you for last, so you can witness his deliverance.
You’re his lamb, his bluebird, and he never lets you forget how blessed you are to be one of his
He’s gentle in almost every way. Voice, touch, words. He especially likes cupping your cheek and cooing sweet little things. Sometimes they’re laced with dark promises
On his orders, the Lambs of Penance are your personal servants and won’t let any harm befall you. Cream Wafer speaks to you respectfully, but you can hear a little envy in his voice
Saint pays attention to every little detail you have, the things you like, and your wishes. He wants to see you at your happiest because a tainted soul as yourself should never feel sad. He’ll wipe your tears away
But don’t assume he’s perfect; he’s far from. Saint stays true to his personal promise that you will be safe and happy and alive until the day he finally saves you, and that means that any potential threat to you will be dealt with by his lambs. If he thinks something will taint your soul further, he’ll be sure that it’ll never have the chance.
In fact, why don’t you stay with him? In his timeless kingdom, amongst his loyal followers and all the orchids that will watch over you. It’s the closest you’ll be to the light.
Make no mistake, saint is two steps away from being a yandere. He just wouldn’t get his hands dirty, and he would never change to that typical yandere-ish behavior. The oh so benevolent saint just wants to see you safe, and if that safety is under his wings, so be it…
Dragonberry Cookie
As the Beast of Pride, the way she loves is bold and loud. She will make it known to you that she loves you pretty quickly.
While she throws parties pretty frequently already, you’ll be center stage at a lot of them with her as she makes you dance together and drinks herself stupid with a bunch of glasses poured your way as well.
If you’re the shy type, expect to be embarrassed or put in big social situations a lot since she’s a massive extrovert who would bring you along to things. Outside of parties and other events of the sort, she would also love for you to watch her spar with Wildberry and her other soldiers
She’ll also give you lots of gifts
She does have a pretty big ego though, so she expects praise and validation from you. Compliments, acts of service, things that assure her you’re not just mooching off of what she gives you. If she thinks you’re not being grateful, she’ll get bitter and confront you about it, which will or won’t go well depending on how well you can prove your point to her
She’ll kill for you 100%. She might even do it in front of you. If you get messed up from that? It’s okay! You’ll get over it in no time.
Despite all this she does respect your boundaries, she’ll give you space if you’re vocal about it. She disappears on occasions and comes back covered in battle wounds and jam anyway.
You know about Pitaya locked up in her basement but you know not to touch them, let alone try and free them if you’re hero enough. She might just have to punish you for that if she catches you doing something you shouldn’t. Don’t worry though, it’s just this once, because you’ll surely never try anything again, right?
Big hugger, her love language is touch so expect hugs and kisses and mandatory cuddle sessions. Honestly if you’re just as messed as her then she’s a pretty solid lover
Frigid Cacao Cookie
It’s hard to tell he cares for you because he’s so distant, even from you.
You’re allowed into the throne room without summons, but the furthest into it you can go is to the foot of his throne. Like everyone else in the citadel, you’re not allowed to touch him.
Your days in the citadel are quiet. The outside is cold but the hallways and your room are warm, the latter always supplied to the brim with what you need.
Tiny licorice creatures slink in and out of your peripheral vision, watching you curiously. Sometimes they slink up to you, purring and chittering, and some might even be balancing trays of food, warm towels, clothes, or other things on their heads. Little do you know that Cacao has been ordering them to take care of you
While he doesn’t forbid you from leaving the kingdom, he’ll want you to come back to him one way or another. Ideally on your own, but one of the licorice oozes that have been watching you since you left could also bring you back.
You might see him out and about on rare occasions, and he might look at you. On even rarer occasions he might ask about your well being
The only thing he’s strict about is that you absolutely cannot attract attention from the other neobeasts, especially Saint Vanilla. The beast of Penance is already curious about learning what things make Cacao go soft; he does not need to learn about you.
Also don’t bring up Choco, he has a reaction to it
Celestial Cheese Cookie
Pampers you. Pampers you and pampers you and pampers you and pampers you
Thinks you’re the sweetest little thing and pinches your cheeks and everything
She’d be more than happy to show herself off, as well as all of her achievements. She gives you treasures from her conquests regularly
She’s similar to Dragonberry though where she expects praise, but unlike her she doesn’t get as angry. She doesn’t see her gift giving as a transactional thing, she does it because she can. You just gotta tell her how wonderful she is
The oases are a popular spot for her to bring you for food and refreshments, cared for by gold-adorned servants as she gushes over the grand vision for her kingdom. She’s honestly quite excitable and loves talking about herself and her plans.
Pay no mind to the scans that are run on you while you sleep, or the diagnostics of your information that run deep in her servers. She doesn’t think it’ll need to happen soon, but she’s planning to put you in a sarcophagus and hook you into her virtual world to make you live forever. She’s not going to let something else she cares about go.
Midnight Lily Cookie
The tamest one honestly
Unlike the others, she sees you as an equal. She knows your personal space and doesn’t encroach on it too much or too little, makes sure you’re well cared for and healthy, and keeps you safe. She also lets you leave and trusts you to take care of yourself. Being Beast of Sovereignty, she encourages the people under her to do whatever they please within their allegiance to her, and this includes you.
She’ll play the harp for you and ask you how she did
You also get lots of gifts and compliments from the other faeries for being the lover of their queen
She does have preferences though. She likes honesty and expects you to keep promises, she prefers if you do something for her in exchange for her doing something for you, and to not question her motive and means to take down her other half. She will get very defensive with you and shut down the conversation pretty fast
The flora in the silver kingdom bloom to their fullest around you both, but when Lily is upset with you, they curl or bud as you pass by them.
Speaking of chlorokinesis, get used to seeing her show no mercy with her plants. Unlike Dragonberry though, she’ll do her best to help you if the sight of bodies skewered on flower stems is too much. Maybe stick to the heart of the kingdom for your own good, where you’re less likely to see how the rest of Beast Yeast challenge her kingdom.
She has a whole bunch of rules set up when Saint visits. While she’d encourage not being with him at all, if you really want to see him, she made it expressly clear to him that he cannot purify you.
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darnell-la · 1 month
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Can you do a follow up with the project x!wolverine x government employee!reader (it can be smut or not I just really like that story)
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)
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pairing: project x!logan howlett x government employee!reader
warnings: tied up, trapped, sniffing, hunting down, roughly fucked against a tree, pinned, choking, “dragged” through the woods, fucked on the patio, ass slapping, hair pulling, etc.
note: we will be making a part three where they contact Charles's school for mutants to warn them about the government, but the government hacked into their call and found out where Logan was hiding out and keeping y/n.
Logan will be more sweet in the next one as y/n grows out of the fear of him.
follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!
———
when y/n woke up, she was dangling from the ceiling by her wrists. It took her a while to realize, she was in a basement full of big freezers and sinks. For a second, she thought she was going to be cut up and frozen to feed to whoever until she saw a man sitting on the stairs, leading upstairs.
“W-Where am I?” Y/n said, voice coming out lower than she expected it to. “Home,” the man spoke before getting up. He came out of the light, now shaking off the figure.
He was shirtless, yet had jeans on. Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know why. Was it because Project X had her tried up in god knows where, or was it the fact she could see all of his chest?
He was sweaty, hairy, ripped, muscles flexed every once in a while, veins popping from his skin and smooth.
“It’s passed midnight, but I bet you’re hungry. Went to the store then cooked us up some food,” he spoke as her eyes traveled all over his body. She felt like she was in a trance.
“Up here, princess,” his voice was closer. She didn’t notice how close he was until his fingers lifted her chin. Even though her feet were a few inches from the ground, he was still towering over her.
“You hungry?” He asked with a head tilt. “Let me go,” she spoke, not knowing what else to say. “No,” he spoke back, voice sounding stern. She could hear the seriousness behind his tone.
“And if you try runnin’ you’ll regret it,” he said, body now touching hers. Y/n quickly went to kick him right between his legs, but he knew what was coming. He surprised her by pulling her leg to the side of his waist. She went to use the other, but he did the exact same thing.
“Relax, princess,” the man smirked down at her as she tried wiggling away, but doing so made her cunt rub up and down his clothes length. She prayed he wouldn’t notice, but he felt the wet spot soaking into his jeans.
“If you act good, I’ll fix that for you,” the man whispered in her ear, pulling her body closer to his. Y/n held bad the whine she almost let out. What was he doing to her?
Logan eventually pulled back and walked to the corner of the room to lower her rope. He then walked back over to the girl as she looked down, not knowing what to say or do to the man.
He wasn’t giving off any type of serial killer vibes. He didn’t seem like he wanted to do any kind of killing. A part of her felt saved than she’d ever had, especially because of her job, but she felt off just letting this man win what he wanted. And that was her.
After y/n’s hands dropped from the ropes, she lifted her knees and connected with his groin. The man fell to the ground in pain as she pushed past him, running up the stairs.
The slightly frightened girl ran towards the front door, thinking she was free until she noticed a device on the lock that needed a code. “Fuckin’ hell,” she shouted before running around the rest of the house to find another way.
“You ain’t gettin’ outta here, bub!” Logan yelled from downstairs, finally getting up from the ground. You would think a mutant like him wouldn’t feel that pain, but he did.
Y/n panicked, thinking she was doomed until she had an idea. A stupid one which she slightly felt bad for doing but she did it anyway.
“Son of a bitch!” Logan finally made it up the stairs to the sound of glass breaking. She was out and running for her life, knowing he’d be furious about his genitals and glass.
Y/n ran as fast as she could through the woods, a bit terrified of the dark and animal noises, but the real animal was back at that house. He is an animal, right? That’s what they said he was.
Y/n had stopped after a few minutes to catch her breath. He’s never been the kind to run.
As she rested, she looked down at her feet, swing scratches and blood, but she’d get over it. She needed to get away.
As the young woman went to take a step to continue, she heard a noise behind her. She quickly looked back but saw nothing. Maybe it was a squirrel or something, she thought.
Y/n turned back around to start walking until he saw the view of an angry Logan in her face. “Where ya goin, bub?” He asked. Y/n instantly screamed at his presence.
Before she could move, the man tangled her to the ground, pushing his hand down the middle of her back to pin her into the dirt.
“No!” Y/n fought in anger, thinking she was actually going to escape. “When I said no, you ain’t listen, now didn’t you?” The man said through his teeth as he forced her to dress up.
“Logan, please! N-Not out here, not out here!” She begged, thinking people would be able to hear this scene going on and go and check, just to see her getting drilled into the ground.
“No one’s out here, princess. Not for another mile or so — You’re all mine out here,” the evil low laugh he let out as he pulled his jeans down was insane. He hadn’t even pulled himself out of his boxers. He wanted to take his time with her out here.
Y/n tried kicking her legs, but what was the point? He could smell her leaking down her folds. He knew she wanted this, and he was going to make her understand.
“I said, no!” Y/n shouted as she swung her elbow back as hard as she could, making him fall back. Y/n crawled away, but only a few inches to look back at him. The fear that grew inside of her was unbelievable.
Logan‘s jaw was dislocated. She popped his jaw.
Y/n’s words got stuck in her throat. She wanted to apologize as the man slowly looked up. He didn’t mean to hurt him. She’s not like that.
Before she could open her mouth, Logan popped his jaw back in place with his hand before moving it around to make sure it was normal.
“You fucked up, bub,” the man said before crawling towards her. It didn’t even look like a crawl. How did he do that? Logan lifted the girl up by her neck and pinned her to the closest tree.
“Ow!” She cried out, feeling the tree bark scratched her ass through her thin and silky nightgown. God, she needed to change soon.
“Logan, ow!” She hoped he’d have sympathy for her, but the way his eyes looked, he was far from it. He wanted to teach her a lesson, and that’s what he was doing.
“N-No, no!” She pushed at the man’s hand, but that did nothing. He ripped her nightgown off like a strand of hair. “Logan!” She shouted, feeling the breeze on her body until his body rubbed against hers.
“You’ve been a bad girl,” Logan growled as he pulled himself out of his jeans. “I don’t like that,” he had as he shifted up and between y/n’s legs until they were lifted off of the ground. Her toes barely touched the dirt.
“I-I can't, Logan,” y/n remembered how he fucked her the last time, and he wasn’t even angry at her. Logan let out a chuckle that he soon cut off after he slammed up into her cunt.
Y/n cried loudly as her arms gripped his shoulders. Logan stared directly at her, his face seemed too serious to look at. He was angry. Very angry. But why? It’s not like the pop in his jaw hurt like any other thing her went through?
“P-Please,” she choked as he pushed her neck into the tree harder, just to get a reaction out of her. “Shut the fuck up,” the man said like the tree wasn’t about to break or come out of the ground from how hard he was pounding into her.
“I can’t,” she whined in pain, but too much pleasure to not tighten around him. The way she squeezed him, egged him on further.
“Oh, you can’t? Does it look like a give a fuck? Huh!? Does it!?” He spat as his pelvis roughly slapped against her clit. She couldn’t think straight. This man was fucking her like some wild animal in the woods. She’s literally being fucked by an animal in the woods.
“F-Fuuuck,” y/n dragged with a broken moan. Logan let her neck go and used both of his hands to grip and hold onto her legs, keeping her up and against the tree, not caring how much she scratched at his shoulders and chest.
The man growled in her ear, cock slipping in and out of her entrance as her asshole puckered. He was huge and slagging around like he wasn’t.
Y/n couldn’t say, but her broken cry warned him she was cumming, and when she did, it was hard. “Goddamnit — Fuck,” the man grunted, pinning his feet to the ground to keep up his hard abuse.
“So fuckin’ good — Fuck!” The man couldn’t keep himself together as his nails dug, into her thighs. Y/n was now crying, not because she was scared, but because of the overstimulation followed by a thrust that wouldn’t slow down.
“Yeah? Yeah, is that the spot, baby?” He asked, knowing it was. “Think this is over just because you came? Think ima stop because you’re drunk on my cock? How did that go last time?”
The girl shook her head, half ass answering his questions. “So cute,” the man chuckled before pulling y/n off of the treat and throwing her over his shoulder to give her a small break.
He wanted his fresh meet alive and functioning when he fucked filled her up. Last time he didn’t get that chase, but he swore to god he would this time.
Because she ran so far, he had to walk it, giving y/n some time to come to life. “Lo-“ y/n cut herself off, still having trouble speaking, but held herself well enough for him to understand.
“No more,” she begged, but he wasn’t having it. “Please, no more,” she begged again as she noticed him passing his car parked several feet from his cabin.
“Logan!” She shouted, now kicking and screaming again. The man grew angry but wanted to take her to the bedroom for what he was about to lay on her.
“Logan!” She shouted, gripping onto the side of his house which was a long wooded stand. “Y/n, stop it!” He let her down with a shout as he began pulling her, but she wouldn’t budge and he didn’t want to accidentally rip her arms off.
“No!” She screamed before he finally pulled her off, causing her to fall on the front steps in front of his house. The way she fell and landed on her hands and knees made him say, fuck it.
“You wanna be fucked like an animal? Fine,” he said as he came up behind her, pulling his cock back out before plunging into her, earning a scream that made him know he hit the right spot instantly.
Logan grew an evil smile across his face as he tugged on her hair, making her arch her back before slapping at her ass, causing her to bruise lightly.
“Little sluts get treated like slut, y/n. You could’ve be fucked nice and sweet on the bed earlier, but no — You wanna run,”
Y/n’s mouth slacked as her eyes crossed from how hard the man was pounding on her. “You see that, bub? Look right up there, right into that camera,” he forced her to look at his security.
“Gonna tie you down and make you watch how dumb you look on my dick,” the man spat, making y/n feel the burn in her eyes, but not from embarrassment. From too much pleasure.
“Yeah — Yeah,” the man repeatedly groaned as y/n squeezed him with a shake in her body. “So fuckin’ pathetic, I might have to give you back,” Logan said, knowing he’d never do such a thing. “Nah,” he added drill in her head that she ain’t goin’ nowhere.
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ, sᴍᴜᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ...
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mclqren · 6 months
Text
BIRTHDAY WISHES ★ F1 GRID
PAIRING ✦ f1 grid x platonic fem!wolff!reader, max verstappen x fem!wolff!reader
SUMMARY ✦ it's your birthday, and some of the drivers of the f1 grid take to instagram to post you on the day. [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ none, i think!
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ i didn't include all of the f1 drivers but i included as many as i felt were suitable! reader isn't susie's biological daughter, but they're still very close!! the fc i've used is blanca soler, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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yourusername finally 22, might get a tattoo idk💜
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user1 AHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N
user2 PEOPLE'S PRINCESSS HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
susie_wolff happy birthday y/n!! love you ❤️
yourusername love you mama 💜
user3 THEY'RE SO CUTE WTH
user4 i literally can't wait to see all of the f1 drivers post her.
user5 NO FR so excited
sabrinacarpenter MY GIRL FOREVER HAPPY BIRTHDAYY 🥳💗
yourusername LOVE YOU SAB THANK YOU SM💜💜
user6 this friendshippp omg
lewishamilton HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU Y/N love you lots kiddo ❤️
yourusername love you lewis!! 😘
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mercedesamgf1 It's a very very special day today...happy birthday Y/n! From all of the team at Mercedes ❤️
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user7 happy birthday y/n!!
user8 she is glowingggg
yourusername 💜💜
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user9 i just know toto went to admin and said 'WISH MY DAUGHTER A HAPPY BIRTHDAY'
user10 their father daughter dynamic is everything to me
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georgerussell63 throwback to 2022 where me and y/n went on a day trip around paris and she changed outfits THREE TIMES in accordance with where we were. anyways happy birthday y/n have the best day!! 🥳
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yourusername CALLING ME OUT IN THE CAPTION HELLOOO?
yourusername I SWEAR IT WAS IMPORTANT I HAD TO CHANGE
georgerussell63 WHAT WERE THE REASONS.
yourusername 1) we had gone into that dusty vent thingy and i had to change my top 2) someone (naming no names) spilt WATER DOWN MY NEW TOP so i had to change 3) we were going out at night i was not about to wear that green shirt.
yourusername *y/n and i, not me and y/n
alex_albon oh dear the grammar police is back
yourusername year older but still not shedding the role 🤷‍♀️
yourusername thank you curious george very much appreciated 😘
landonorris how many nicknames do you have for him??
yourusername g-man, curious george, georgie porgie
georgrussell63 you can tell she truly values our friendship!
user11 i actually haven't stopped laughing why are they so siblings
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landonorris happy birthday to the girl who introduced herself to me by spilling her pepsi max over my fire suit. never change y/n 🔥
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yourusername AW LANDOOO THAT'S KINDA SWEET
georgerussell63 and mine wasn't??
yourusername lando's my fav 🤷‍♀️
charles_lerclerc @/landonorris thoughts on this??
landonorris y/n is a woman with taste what can i say?
yourusername wait when did you take the first pic...
landonorris at that bar in london
yourusername LOVE YOU NORRIS 😍
landonorris LOVE YOU WOLFF 😁
georgerussell63 the bias is actually crazy i'm in tears right now
yourusername awww georgie i love you too!! 💜
maxverstappen1 no one can separate y/n from her popcorn
yourusername he speaks the truth 🤷‍♀️
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alex_albon happiest of birthdays to the best third wheel money can buy ( please let me out of your basement 🙏 )
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alex_albon ALL JOKES ASIDE love you y/n have the best day!! 😁❤️
yourusername AW ALBONOOOO
yourusername you and lily are my parents😘
lilymhe i prefer you to alex ❤️
alex_albon HUH??
yourusername i will always take my mother's side 💜
yourusername best third wheel money can buy is CRAZYYY YOU KNOW FULL WELL.
alex_albon well you did third wheel at one point, not now you're with him 🤷‍♀️
user12 WITH HIM? MY WIFE IS TAKEN?
user13 NOT ALEX BEING CRYPTIC W IT.
logansargeant the american flag in the last pic RAH 🦅
yourusername relax logan babe it's a brandy melville sweater 💜
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carmenmmundt MY Y/NNNN!! meeting you in the mercedes paddock back in 2022 was truly the best thing that could've ever happened because now you're stuck with me!! my little sister forever, hope you have the best birthday ever ❤️❤️
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yourusername CARMMM IM CRYING WTH
yourusername MY SISTERRR I LOVE YOUUU
carmenmmundt I LOVE YOU MORE ❤️
user14 the way they get on so well acc warms my hearttt
yourusername you're the only reason i can tolerate george 😊
georgerussell63 i beg your pardon??
yourusername oh dear the british dialect came out
charles_leclerc understandable 🤷‍♂️
georgerussell63 NOT YOU TOO??
user15 y/n honorary wag confirmed
alex_albon or real wag 🤷‍♂️
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user16 SO NO ONE SAW ALEX'S COMMENT?? WAG ALERT HELLO??
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alexandrasaintmleux the only girl i trust to go to galleries with me ❤️ happy birthday y/n love you sm!
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yourusername ALEXXXX I LOVE YOU SM
yourusername MY ANGELLL
alexandrasaintmleux ❤️❤️
yourusername forget charles run away w me 🙏
alexandrasaintmleux @/charles_leclerc sorry baby i'm leaving you for y/n!!
charles_leclerc how have i been replaced...
yourusername with ease 😘
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charles_leclerc she might prefer my girlfriend to me, but she will forever be my baby sister 😘 happy birthday y/n!!
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yourusername MI HERMANOOOO!!
charles_leclerc that's not french??
yourusername i know carlos was teaching me spanish so have that instead
carlossainz55 viva la españaaa! 🇪🇸
yourusername i definitely do prefer alex but this post is very much appreciated!!
charles_leclerc why must you replace me.
user16 WHO DOESNT PREFER ALEX?? SHES STUNNING
yourusername LOVE YOU ECLAIR
user17 HELPP SHES A REAL ONE
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lance_stroll "if you post any ugly pictures of me lance i'll kill you" - y/n today when i wished her a happy birthday. have a good day loser 👌
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yourusername WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME OUT AS WELLL IT'S MEANT TO BE MY SPECIAL DAY
georgerussell63 y/n when something doesn't go her way:
yourusername GO AWAY PISS FACE ☹️
yourusername my favorite canadian 😊
yourusername also the only canadian i know but wtv
lance_stroll i appreciate the sentiment y/n??
yourusername THANKS LANCELOT LOVE YOU BBG
lance_stroll maybe it's time to retire the nickname now??
yourusername noooo i don't want to! and it's my birthday sooo :)
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oscarpiastri happy birthday y/n!! have the best day ❤️ ( last slide is from when you took my phone and sent lando pictures of yourself saying you were under his bed. good times as always )
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yourusername OSCAHHH THE FIRST NICE-ISH CAPTION!!
charles_leclerc mine was nice as well???
yourusername yes but oscar's just nicer in general so it sort of evens itself out
user18 HELPP
yourusername i KNOW lando appreciated the pics of my flared nostrils😘😘
landonorris yes thanks y/n ❤️
alex_albon bet your boyfriend didn't appreciate that one 🤷‍♂️
yourusername DO YOU EVER SHUT UP ALBON. and for ur information i forwarded them to him as well so.
user19 okay but WHOOO IS THIS BOYFRIEND WHEN'S THE REVEAL
user20 NO REAL IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE
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carlossainz55 y/n in her natural habitat: on a farm 👩‍🌾 happy birthday mi hermana!! ❤️
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yourusername VIVA LA ESPAÑAAAAA
carlossainz55 SIII SIEMPRE
yourusername THANK YOU CARLOSSS 💜💜
carlossainz55 ❤️
georgerussell63 she's one with nature ❤️
landonorris HAHA
yourusername I KNOWWW YOU ARE BOTH NOT TALKING WHEN I HAVE KILLED SPIDERS FOR BOTH OF YOU.
user21 THE RECEIPTS
maxverstappen1 picture credits for half of these??
carlossainz55 i took the first one though?
maxverstappen1 but i took the others??
yourusername guys stop fighting this isn't you ☹️☹️☹️
maxverstappen1 yeah yeah whatever
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maxverstappen1 forever thankful for the day you accidentally ran into the red bull paddock and i fell head over heels in love 🙏 happy birthday to the girl who makes it all worth it, love you always ❤️
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user22 THE HARD LAUNCH????
user23 WAS NOT EXPECTING THISSSS
user24 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
user25 MERCEDES GIRL X RED BULL GUY
yourusername MAXIE AW
user26 MAXIE MY HEARTTT
yourusername LOVE YOU FOREVER 💜💜
alex_albon ew get a room
yourusername as third wheel of you and lily for basically the past two years, LET ME HAVE THIS ONE.
landonorris so like is it just me who's single now??...
yourusername keep enjoying the bachelor lifestyle norris 💜
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yourusername thank you all so much for the birthday wishes!! decided to get me a tattoo, and woke up to my boyfriend hard launching us on social media! love you max, but please stop winning races so my dad doesn't get angry 💜
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maxverstappen1 unfortunately, i have to keep winning the races to win your respect. thanks for the request, though! 🙏
yourusername papa wolff will NOT be happy.
maxverstappen1 ❤️❤️
user27 THE LITTLE WOMEN TATTOO??
user28 I HAD NO IDEA SHE WATCHED LITTLE WOMEN
user29 she mentioned on live once that it's her favorite movie!!
mercedesamgf1 If he hurts you Y/n, we'll be at his door 🦅
yourusername you'll be the first ones i contact x
user30 Y/N DEFENCE LEAGUE HAS ARRIVED
georgerussell63 *get a tattoo, not get me a tattoo
landonorris shhh let her have this one it's her birthday weekend
yourusername damn right it is mr russell remember ur place here. which of the two of us is the boss' daughter??
georgerussell63 🤐🤐
yourusername exactly what i thought!
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ceilidho · 9 months
Text
take me home, country road
prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 2) part 1
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The solid hand at your back guides you through the dusty streets towards the courthouse in the middle of town. It’s not an easy walk. Your shoes catch on the skirt of your dress a handful of times in Price’s haste, each time almost causing you to tumble forward before you manage to catch yourself. 
It’s patently unfair. The strides of his long legs would easily have you losing him in a crowd were it not for the way he refuses to leave you behind; every time you so much as slow down a tad to catch your breath, the firm hand on your low back presses you forward again. You’d be snippier if you weren’t still addled from the events of just five minutes previous.
“I beg you, please—” you plead, heart skittering in your chest when you chance a glance up to find Price’s face set. Everything about him feels purposeful now, driven. “If you just—if you would just let me explain!”
“Nothing more to know, darling,” he says, not bothering to meet your desperate eyes. Clearly not in any mood to continue arguing with you on the status of your identity. 
He tugs you along when he takes a right turn down a road leading into the center of town. The belt of bullets around his waist rattles with every step. It’s a constant reminder of who you’re with and why you should not be with him. Every step feels like a step towards your own sentencing, like accompanying your jailer to your cell. It’s perhaps fool’s luck that the sheriff hasn’t inquired further into your identity or your reason for coming into town. Makes you think that perhaps there isn’t yet a warrant out for your arrest. Maybe that’s only to come. 
“Sure there’s more!” you insist. “There’s—there’s—” It’s like the words fly right out of your head, bucked off like a bronc rider. Too much has happened in too short a time. “There’s the matter of—oh, would you quit that, I am walking!” The last bit comes out snappish, peeved as Price pulls you towards the stone steps of a red-bricked building. 
The words County Court House are inscribed above the second-story door girdled by a wrought iron balcony. It’s a simple building, far from the colonnaded buildings from back home with their cupolas and hand-carved lintels. Even in size it hardly compares, a meager three stories with perhaps a basement. Still, it catches the eye in a town as small as this, by far the most imposing building for miles around.
It’s also the one he pulls you towards, hand moving from the small of your back to take firm hold of your waist. You flinch at the touch and the way his fingers dig in, almost proprietarily. It’s a physical shock to your system. While you’re not unaccustomed to the rougher ways of men, you’ve also been largely shielded from it yourself. By chance or fortune or luck. Men may take an attitude with you, as they’re wont to do, but none have yet manhandled you the way Price feels free to do. 
“Take a big step there now, darling,” he says, lifting the front of your dress for you a tad, to your shock. “No accidents before the wedding.” 
“The wedding?” you shriek, face heating at the heads that turn to look over at the two of you. 
The courthouse is bustling with townsfolk, still not as busy as in the bigger cities back east, but still clearly at the center of all business activities. The few people that pass you by on the way out of or into the courthouse are bold in their perusal, eyebrows lifting when they take notice of Price at your side—and how could they not, with the size of him and the badge pinned to the lapel of his vest that glimmers when it catches the light. 
“If you were expecting something grander, you should’ve turned up last month when I sent for you,” Price says, stern again. In the foyer of the courthouse, you can see the way the long hallway cuts through the building, leading into the adjacent rooms until finally culminating with the courtroom at the very back. You watch as a man slowly closes the door to the last door, shutting the occupants in. “Might’ve been more amenable to it then.”
“I’m not asking for a nicer ceremony—”
“Good, then you won’t be disappointed.”
“—but that’s because I’m not the woman that you intended to marry in the first place,” you finish, quieting to a hissed whisper, conscious of those still lingering close enough to eavesdrop. In all likelihood, the other people milling around probably already know that the sheriff has been waiting for his mail order bride to arrive. They wouldn’t be the first people to mistake you for her.
He pulls you into an alcove off the side of the foyer. When Price turns to face you, no longer just the heavy presence at your side, it takes a moment for you to gather your bearings. He seems larger somehow, with his arms crossed over his chest and feet rooted into the floor, drawn up to his full height. The hair on his forearms draws your eyes momentarily before he steps into your space, forcing you to meet his eyes again. 
He stares down at you with an intensity that makes you flinch. “Now, far be it for me to say that I know my wife-to-be by her demeanor alone, given that we’ve hardly corresponded beyond our initial agreement. But I find it mighty strange that a single, unaccompanied woman would show up in town with all of her earthly belongings as I’m expecting my own woman to show up any day. Hardly seems coincidental.”
“Don’t you think I would have sought you out if we were intended to wed?” you ask beseechingly. “Or that I would put up such a fuss now? What sort of bride would do that?”
“You want to know what I think, darling?” The timber of his voice deepens as he lowers his head slightly, wrapping the conversation in a layer of intimacy despite its public nature. There’s a darker note to his voice now, a thinly-veiled anger. “I think you’ve been keeping yourself housed and fed off the back of men like me and the money you’ve been sent to compensate for the rough journey. I think your guilty conscience brought you here because you know that the Lord doesn’t look too kindly on swindlers and thieves.”
“I’m not a thief,” you hiss in protest, affronted. Ironic that you’d be insulted by his words when the truth is far worse. 
“I’m sure you had your reasons,” Price permits, a reluctant softness in his voice. “But your conscience did you right. Marriage will suit you far better than a life of crime ever could.”
If only he knew. “You’ve still got it all wrong—I’ve never once even glanced at the matrimonial pages or the personals. And I certainly didn’t come to town expecting to be wed.”
You did, however, arrive in town with a guilty conscience. Even you’re wise enough not to mention that, though.
“Then if you're not her, who are you?” he asks. 
It’s clear from his tone that Price doesn’t believe you, but the question itself makes you antsier than even the thought of marrying this man. He still stares down at you in challenge, an eyebrow cocked. If you wanted to, you could easily answer his question and even furnish proof—a letter from an aunt or uncle or a telegram from a previous employer. 
That last thought makes your throat squeeze tight. You could furnish proof, but at what cost? You’re still unclear on how much information has been disseminated or whether you're a wanted woman. Though only weeks have passed since the event that caused you to flee in a haste, there’s no telling whether a warrant has been put out for your arrest, no telling whether word has reached a town this far west. 
“Not that it matters, but I’m from New York,” you say, scrunching up your nose. 
The look he gives you is unimpressed. “I’m sure you lost the accent on the train ride.”
Embarrassment makes you dig your heels in deeper. “I didn’t grow up there, it’s just where I’ve lived for the past few years.”
“And what’s your name?”
“…Elizabeth Smith.” 
It’s the first name that occurs to you, but the moment the words come out of your mouth, you can’t help feeling like you’ve made a huge mistake. Price must sense it too because he draws back up to his full height, lips twitching into a small smirk. 
“You have family or a post back in New York, Miss Smith?” he asks in a patronizing tone. 
“Family.” 
“Alright, then it shouldn’t be too hard to get confirmation and settle this whole issue.” He points behind you to one of the unoccupied rooms. “Telegraph’s office just behind you. We’ll get in touch with the Census Bureau and ask them to confirm your identity. And, if you are who you say you are, Miss Smith, then we can put this issue to rights.” 
Your blood goes cold. “That’ll—that’ll take time though. I can’t marry you today if they only get back to you in a week’s time.”
Price nods, his expression dissatisfied but resolved. “Wouldn’t be proper for you to stay at the house either, but I’ll make sure the inn lets you stay free of charge until this is settled. You’ll be in good hands under the Pattersons’ watch.” 
He doesn’t say it outright, but you hear the implication in his words. You’d be essentially under house arrest, perhaps free to move about town, but certainly not free to take the next train out. 
Your pulse thumps nervously at the base of your throat. Even swallowing takes effort now. The weight of his stare takes root in you, a living coil in your belly. No getting out of it. There’s no getting out of this. You don’t know why you thought you could, how you tricked yourself into thinking for even a moment that a man as formidable as the one set in front of you would simply give in. Let you go. You’ve hardly even moved the needle. 
It’s there still in his eyes. Not even doubt—something quite far past that. Certainty. 
“‘Elizabeth Smith of New York’, was it? Come, we’ll have them start the message and you can give me your birthday as well so it’ll be an easy find—” Price says, attempting to slip around you to head to the telegraph’s office. 
“No.” 
It slips out of you inadvertently, high and panicked. He pauses at the word. More than just your words. When you look down, you notice your fingers clenched in the fabric of his sleeve, bringing him to a halt. It pulls taut against the muscle of his forearm. 
Softness bleeds back into him at your touch. You can see it smooth out the lines of his forehead and the jut of his brow. He ignores the onlookers still hovering by the double doors to twist back to you, now obscuring their view of you. The breadth of his shoulders nearly blocks the rest of the foyer from sight when he looms over you like this. Down the hall, you can hear a gavel pound down on wood and a litany of raised voices in unison from behind a shut door. 
“You don’t have to make up stories,” Price murmurs, drawing a hand up to cup your cheek, holding it like a precious thing. “I told you before—all’s forgiven.”
His words remind you of being trapped in his office, drawers stripped down your ankles and skirt pulled up to your waist. Your bottom still smarts from the palm of his hand, still hot and sore to the touch. It’s hardly been long since then and yet it feels like an age ago, like trying to find your way in a dust storm. 
You open and shut your mouth, lost for a way out. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Marriage or a jail cell. You swallow. Both sound like a sentencing. 
But there are the cold, metal bars of a cell, and then there’s John Price. The first man in an age to elicit more than a passing glance from you. Deep blue eyes crinkled with the folds of old laughter, wide shoulders, and barrel chest. In another time, you think you would’ve jumped at the chance to be courted by a man like him. Keeled over at the very thought of being chased the way he hunts you down now. 
“Alright,” you say instead, giving in. The hand fisting his sleeve shakes. “Alright.”
It’s not a pleasant giving in. Your permission is handed over with shot nerves. The coil bunched up in your core burns white hot, hissing and spitting like a rattlesnake. 
Still, when he drags a thumb over the slope of your cheek, you fight not to let your eyelids flutter shut. “Good girl. We’ll make it work, love. Won’t be easy, but it never is.”
You don’t anticipate that it will be, but your mouth stays shut. Price must think you mollified, soothed rather than resigned to your fate, because he passes his thumb once more over your cheekbone, this time so tenderly that you wait for his lips to descend upon yours again, sure from the heat in his eyes that he won’t be able to keep from stealing another kiss. You lick your lips out of habit—not just to see the way his eyes follow the motion. 
Then the door at the back of the building bursts open to a cacophony of shouts and hollering voices. The moment broken, Price drops his hand away from your cheek, only to take your hand in his this time, pulling you down the hall towards the register’s to await the circuit preacher. He makes you walk on the side closest to the wall, shielding you from the men that burst out of the courtroom, surging towards the doors. You think that someone must have been found guilty because the lot of them look joyous, clamoring over each other for attention. 
You think that you might be spared another minute or two, enough time for them to clean up and reset the courtroom, but you’re shocked to find the circuit preacher ready to conduct the ceremony in the cramped register’s office. He and Price shake hands enthusiastically, the preacher turning to you to grasp your hands in welcome before turning back to the sheriff. They have a camaraderie that speaks of old friendship. 
The cramped room where you’re married smells of patchouli and moth wings, like holes burrowed into sweaters at the back of a closet. The bookshelves along the walls are stacked with books old enough that you know they’d crinkle deliciously if opened. You try to listen as the preacher begins the introductory prayer. Behind you, another man slips into the room, a witness. He hardly bothers to introduce himself for such a brief affair. 
You haven’t been to many weddings, but you always imagined that yours—if you were privileged enough to have one—might have more fanfare. The wedding you actually get is a brusque affair, a brief recital of vows that ends only when the preacher enjoins Price to kiss his wife. 
His wife. 
Your eyes go wide when a hand flattens along your spine and pulls you into a hard chest, John dipping his head down to kiss your mouth again. His kiss is less chaste this time, not restricted by convention as earlier. This time, his tongue licks hot into your mouth, like no kiss you’ve ever had before, beard scratching your face. His mouth tastes like something you’ve never had before, like heatburst. Hot and wet. Soft and suckling. Any kiss you’ve had before pales in comparison—juvenile fumbling, all dry and half-humiliated, unsure of yourself. Nothing like being kissed by your husband.
Your husband. 
He only pulls away when the preacher finally clears his throat, a tad embarrassed. You’re too dazed to feel the same, fingers still sunk into the lapels of Price’s vest, clutched there. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up and your hands to unclench. You feel Price tug your hands away and slip something onto your finger.
The few documents needing to be signed hardly takes any longer. You finally notice the man that had slipped in behind the two of you, a masked man even larger than Price, who nods at him before glancing at you only long enough for you to notice that his eyes seem curiously blank. 
“Thanks, Simon,” Price says as the man—Simon—signs under your names, but he only grunts. The ink is still wet when he leaves. 
“How was it so fast?” you ask absently, staring at the papers as the ink sits drying and the preacher takes his own copy before handing John his. 
“Everything’s practical out here, darling.” His hand holds you by the waist again, relaxed this time. Not worried about whether you might run. “Even the weddings.”
“You don’t…you don’t even serve dinner? Invite guests over? No gifts?” The questions are irrelevant, but you ask them anyway because it’s a way to focus on anything other than the preacher handing you the final copy of the papers and Price leading you back down the hall and out the doors. 
There’s a ring on my finger, you think, looking down. It sparkles when you twist your hand from side to side. Topaz, instead of diamond. 
“Maybe if you’d showed up on time,” Price reminds you. He no longer sounds upset about it, but it still seems to come out as an admonishment. 
You don’t respond to that. Perhaps you’re still shell-shocked, looking at the world through new eyes. It feels unreal that in the span of less than a day, you’ve been plucked up and married off, to the sheriff no less. The one man you would’ve tried your hardest to avoid crossing paths with. 
No chance of that now. 
“Where are we going?” you ask, still in a daze. The sun makes you squint when you leave the courthouse, making you miss the hat back in your room at the inn. Maybe you can convince Price to let you go back to collect your things.
“I think we’re due for a honeymoon, don’t you, darling?”
You go doe-eyed at that. When you look up, your husband is already smiling down at you, crow’s feet wrinkling at the sides of his eyes. 
“Let’s go home.”
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