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mandarinmoons · 3 months ago

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Hello, how about Spencer with an outdoorsy reader. She is always on hikes and goes on long backpacking trips when he’s out of town for a case. Mostly because Spencer isn’t the hiking type.

Anyways what if when she’s just on a day trip while he’s working a local case and she finds a body. She calls him immediately and that’s when the team discovers Spencer has a girlfriend and she’s not what they expected.

I love this idea! x

The morning sun shone through the window as you were sitting by the kitchen table, admiring the dew drops on the glass and the gentle sound of the birds singing outside. It looked to be a perfect morning and with the air feeling so crisp and fresh, you were excited to go on the small hike you had been planning for the past few weeks. Work had been hectic and a little retreat to one of your favorite places was just what you needed.

After getting dressed, filling your water bottle and packing some snacks you took off to your destination. You thought about getting your boyfriend Spencer to tag along with you, but knowing how that went down last time, and that he was working, you had to enjoy the trails all by yourself this time.

“Spence, c’mon! We’re nearly there!”

You looked behind your shoulder to see how far behind Spencer was. You stopped and waited for a minute before you saw the lanky man in your view, breathing heavily and holding tightly onto the straps of his backpack.

“Hold on for a moment. I gotta…”

Spencer leans against the side of a tree, his face red and sweaty, even if he regularly chases down unsubs he’s clearly not used to hiking down these long trails.

Walking beside him, you offered your water to him, which he downed nearly half of it.

“How do you do this every week?”

“Practice my love, it takes practice.”

Chuckling to yourself at the memory, you walked ahead and took your time to admire the scenery around you.

It was nearing the end of summer and the leaves had already started to change colors and fall away from their branches, leaving them bare and withered.

Taking a few steps away from the route, you headed down your usual secret path to a small cliff that showed off a beautiful view to the town, a scene you were almost sure only you knew about.

Carefully making your way up the hill, you stopped in your tracks when you saw what seemed to be a shoe sticking out from the side of a bush.

Don’t let this be what I think it is

You were reminded of the case Spencer was working on and the details he shared with you flashed through your mind.

“Women in their late twenties to early thirties have been found dead in secluded areas, out in the woods and paths.”

You knew that with dating an FBI agent there was bound to be a moment where his work would entangle with your life, but you never expected it to happen in this way.

Slowly walking over to the foliage, your worst fears were brought to life when you saw a hand peek through the branches, covered in a crimson sheen, which was undoubtedly blood.

Trying to control your breathing, you pulled out your phone and dialed Spencer’s number. When the call connected through, your tongue went numb and you tried to figure out a way to explain your situation, which seemed impossible.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here.”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“No… no, Spencer I’m not-”, your breathing picked up and your head started to spin. You sat down on the ground to try and ground yourself a bit, breathing in and out through your nose to fight off the dizziness.

“Y/N, where are you?”

“I’m on the trail… Spencer, I think I found a body.”

The blinking lights on the police cars blinded you as you watched by the sidelines, a detective questioning you about how you made your discovery.

The longer you were questioned the more you felt the energy leave your being. Spencer took notice in your demeanor and quickly pulled you to his side as soon as the last of the questions were answered.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Tired.”

Spencer nodded and ran his palms over your arms, you weren’t cold and yet you weren’t able to stop shaking the entirety of the time you were interviewed.

“They’re about to wrap up the body and then we can go home, okay?”

Nodding as a response, Spencer guided you along to the car and let you be by yourself for a moment while he talked over details with his team.

Nearing his team mates, the last thing Spencer expected to see was a grin on some people’s faces.

“So, you and nature girl, huh?”

Derek was always one to make a quip over Spencer, which he didn’t mind, but regarding how everyone found out about this during such grim circumstances, now wasn’t the best time for jokes.

During the time Spencer was away, you managed to get comfy enough to close your eyes and get some snooze, but that was cut short by the engine being turned on and your seatbelt being clicked on.

“It’s okay, we’re going home.”

The car ride home was silent. Spencer would occasionally ask what you’d want when you arrived, but you didn’t have the energy to reply to him and simply replied back with either a nod or shake of your head.

You hadn’t felt this drained in a while. When arriving home you didn’t even have the energy to step out of the car and Spencer made his way to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside.

Inside the house, Spencer crouched down and took off your shoes for you, you looked down on him as his hands carefully undid the laces and slipped the shoes off, the gentleness making your heart clench.

“I’ll go make you some tea and we’ll lie down for a bit, how does that sound?”

Spencer looked up and his eyes met your glassy ones, tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“Oh honey,” standing up and taking you into his embrace, the tears took over and spilled over your cheeks as the distraught you faced today could no longer be hidden.

“How can anyone be that cruel?”

“I don’t know, angel.”

But that was a lie, Spencer did know how someone could be that cruel. In fact, he could list out the exact chemical reactions that needed to happen in someone’s brain in order for someone to behave in such an animalistic way, but he knew not to speak of them, at least not in this moment, because ignorance was bliss, and he did not want the only innocent miracle in his life to be tainted with the sorrows of his job, or should he say his primary life.

Taglist: @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager @indyvelazquez @nini123 @justlivinginadaydream @kers505 @dan-the-womans-blog

Note: The taglist will be discontinued at the end of the month so if you'd like to keep up to date with my latest fics then please follow me!

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid au #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid angst

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flkwh0re · 9 months ago

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The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie.

Contains smut.

Warnings: Readers age is not specified but she is of age, Homophobia, Blood, Puking (reader only does it once while crying), Abuse, Mentions of death, Breif thoughts of suicide, Religion, Use of a slur (once), Nat gaslights reader, Nat punches reader to knock her out, Blasphemy, Dubcon (Nat begins to fuck reader while she’s unconscious then reader wakes up and tries to fight it but eventually gives in), Fingering, Dumbification(-ish???)

Wc: 1,713

A/n: Please listen to Preachers Daughter by Ethel Cain to get the whole ideal feeling of this fic. As a woman who grew up in the south and the church, this album hits really well. Also inspired by the song ‘The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie’ By Colter Wall!

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

It started off with your father finding out from the woman you trusted most, Carol Danvers. How could she rat you out like that to your father like that? She was your best friend, the only person who knew about your secret.

No one close to you expected you to be a lesbian, even if they called you a fag or said the way you dressed was weird, the way you acted.

He had come home in a fit rage, busting the front door down. You were sure it came off the hinges. Before you knew it, you were backed into the corner, body aching from the blows you had taken, your throat hoarse from the shouting.

You finally found the courage to run and lock yourself in your room, quickly packing a backpack. Throwing in some clothes, shoes, items dear to you, essentials, and a book.

You unfastened the window, punching through the window screen. You hiked your leg out the window and dropped down. To your dismay, your father saw you.

He bolted out the door, and you quickly jumped onto your bike. pedaling as hard as you could, trying to escape the man you feared more than God.

Your dad hadn’t always been like this, he was always more understanding. When your mother died though, he changed. He began to drink and become terribly abusive. His narcissistic behavior only worsened when he ‘strengthened his faith.’

Your breathing became uneven and ragged, exhaustion consuming your overwhelmed body. You finally gave out running off the side of the road, you slid down a hill, bumping into every rock possibly.

Once you were able to stand, blood dripped down your legs and arms. Small amounts also trickled down your face, along with sweat. Dirt and grime coated your body thickly.

You took off to a bridge you saw, climbing up under it, hoping to hide there for a few hours. You heard the loud thuds of your father's footsteps, your heart pounding with each step. He discovered your slightly mangled bike against a tree, and once he realized you were gone, he cried. You’d not heard him cry since your mother's funeral, it almost made you come out of hiding. You knew his sorrow wouldn’t last, the moment it dispersed he’d be the same man as always.

Your father had finally given up his search for you, not like he cared much anyway. His daughter was ‘one of them queers’ as he’d say. He couldn’t stand people like that, but you were his daughter. He needed to find you, he needed to help you. He knew a woman, Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha was the pastor of the local church. She hadn’t been preaching there for a while, but in her short time she’s ‘helped’ so many young men and women. Now of course her time was spent more catered towards teenagers, but she would be more than willing to help you.

Once night settled in, darkness clouded your eyes. You knew your father wouldn’t get anyone out to look for you, so you figured you’d move at night. You had to get away, and fast.

You stepped onto the main road, your small flashlight in hand that barely worked. The thick mid-June air made sweat slick your body as you walked along the gravel road. No one to your knowledge loved this way, or so you thought.

You followed the small road for what felt like an eternity, your thin tank top clung thickly to your skin. Your overheated weary body fell to the ground, you slumped over laying on your side. Salty hot tears spilled down your face. Thoughts of hatred filled your mind.

How could you disappoint your father like this? How could you betray god like this? a you felt disgusted, so disgusted that as your tears ran you began to heave. Thick bile spilled from your mouth.

If only you could just stop it all, end all your suffering right now. You wouldn’t even hesitate.

You had laid in the spot for what felt like hours, wishing some animal would find you. What found you was even worse.

The sound of a car engine, and squeaky breaks stirred you. Bright headlights blinded you. You wanted to run, you figured now someone had found you and would return you to your father.

The soft crunches of gravel echoed in your ears; a figure approached you. They leaned down and you got a good look at her face. Natasha Romanoff.

“Hey sweetheart, what in the world are you doing out here? What’s happened to ya? Oh my goodness, you’re all bloody laying in a mess of vomit. Let me get you to my house” As she tried to help you to her car you kicked and squirmed.

Loud cries of no came from you, and Natasha was beginning to become impatient. As you thrashed your body around, trying to escape the woman who would bring you to your doom, you speared blood on her spotless suit. She finally had it with you, her fist struck a heavy blow across your face. Your mind went foggy and your eyes dizzy, eventually you lost consciousness.

“If you would’ve just cooperated, I wouldn’t have had to do that.” Natasha said through gritted teeth. She picked up your limp body and carried you to her truck, softly placing you in the seats next to her.

She drove down the road until she reached another small road, turning down it. No one knew about her second life, her home hidden away in the woods. She wasn’t who everyone thought she was. In fact, she was what everyone deemed evil.

She pulled up next to a small trailer house and stepped out of her truck. Natasha stepped around to the other side, pulled you into her arms carrying you bridle style into the house. She brought you to a broken-down couch that reeked of cigarettes.

Natasha walked off to her small room to change out of her dirty, bloodied clothes. She trudged to small refrigerator to grab a beer, cracking it open and taking a big drink.

As she made her way to the couch where you were, an idea popped in her head. She peeled your tank top off your body, revealing your bra. She examined your chest and stomach, dried blood and dirt smeared on your delicate skin.

Natasha unclipped your bra, slipping it off your arms throwing it off. Her hands grope at the soft flesh of your chest. She kneels down, so she can get closer to your breast. Her mouth latches onto your nipple, licking and sucking.

You began to finally regain consciousness, once you realized what was happening your eyes shot open. “No stop! Get off of me!” You shouted, trying to wrestle the older woman off you. She grabbed your wrist in her hand, pinned them onto the arm rest of the couch.

“No baby, you need me. See.” She slipped her hand into your shirt, gathering your slick on her fingers. She removed them and showed you her fingers wet with your arousal, “See baby, now be a good girl and let me fuck you.”

Her hands unbuttoned your shorts and slipped back into your panties. Her rough fingers rubbed at your clit, then she slipped two into your dripping cunt.

A loud cry and moan left your mouth, tears spilled from your eyes. “See baby, it feels so good doesn’t it. Tell me it feels good.” She rasped as she pumped her fingers in and out of you. You weakly nod your head, but Natasha wasn’t satisfied. “No, I want words. I want to hear you say it feels good.”

“Fuck! I-it feels good Natasha.” She chuckled, “Such a dirty mouth.” She curled her fingers up into the right spot, your legs trembled and your back arched up into her. “Fuck ‘m goin’ to cum!” You moaned out, as your juices gushed onto Natasha’s fingers.

She slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking off your slick and moaning around her digits at your taste. “Fuck baby, you taste so good. I wanna taste you from the source, but we can do that another time. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You nodded and she helped you stand. You laid your head on her shoulder as she walked you to the bathroom. She readied the water as you slipped yourself out of your shorts. You couldn’t believe you were giving into her; she was so tempting you couldn’t even fathom saying no to her. Like a presence luring you in, like the devil themself.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about pretty girl?” She asked you. “Nothin’.. thank you thought. For this, it’s real kind of you.” She smiled, “Oh it’s nothin’ darlin’, it’s my job.”

You slipped into the warm water, and Natasha began to scrub the dirt off you. She’d give you the occasional kiss on your face, she just couldn’t help it. She’d had her eye on you for a while, she got pretty lucky tonight.

“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.” She spoke up, “What?” You questioned her, how would she know? “Your father already spoke to me, but don’t worry. Stay here with me, let me take care of you. I won’t say a word to him.” You nodded, “Okay, promise?” She grinned, “I promise.” She placed as soft kiss of your head, then pulled the plug.

Natasha wrapped the towel around your body and took you to her room. “Here why don’t you put these on, and I’ll grab you a sandwich. Is peanut butter okay?” You smiled and nodded.

Once you had put the clothes on she gave you, Natasha had returned with a bottle of water and the sandwich. “Eat this then we can go to bed, I bet you’re exhausted.” She said as she got into bed, motioning for you to join her. “I am.”

You finished eating, and snuggled up with Nat. She hummed you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings to you. She placed a kiss on your scalp and spoke soft words, “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

You felt safe with Natasha, you still weren’t sure what changed in you. You knew you could finally be comfortable with your life though.

Masterlist

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x you #natasha fanfic #natahsa romanoff #natasha #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x y/n #nat x reader

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travelingthief · 25 days ago

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Artemis Offerings/Devotional Acts

Offerings

Moon

Moon imagery

Moonwater

Water

Moonstone/selenite

Silver

Hunting

Bows and arrows

Animal hide

Taxidermy

Meats

Quivers

Animal bones

Hunting gear

Knives

Guns & ammo

Wilderness and animals

Deer imagery

Bear imagery

Boar imagery

Dog imagery

Literally any animal imagery

Dirt/soil

Cool rocks

Tree bark

Wildflowers

Pine needles

Herbs

Leaves

Tree imagery

Feathers

Deer antlers

Childbirth/Protectress of children

Ultra sound photos

Baby shower mementos

Childhood toys

Family scrapbooks

Childhood stuffed animals

Childhood photos

Family heirlooms

Baby shoes

Baby mementos

Misc.

Gold

Lesbian flags/pride flags

Wood carvings

Devotional Acts

Watch animals out in nature

Take mindful walks

Meditate outdoors

Take a hike

Be mindful about where you are walking

Foraging

Hunting/tracking

Learn wilderness first aid

Clean up litter

Learn to identify plants/trees/animals

Wear hunter’s orange when in the woods

Explore new areas

Identify animal tracks

Dance/sing in the woods

Pay attention to how your area changes during different seasons

Get (responsibly) lost in the woods

Be prepared when out in the woods

Take a nighttime walk

Go stargazing

Walk dogs

Volunteer/donate to animal shelters

Take good care of your pets

Play with your pets

Make scrapbooks

Support new parents/ask for support if you’re a parent

Spend time with kids in your life

Babysit

Listen to children; their stories, when they say something is wrong, when they want to show you a toy for the tenth time, etc.

Be watchful over children; be a safe person

Wave at babies and toddlers

Learn about childhood development

Learn different parenting techniques

Celebrate birthdays

Support women’s rights

Don’t be a TERF

Archery

Self-defense classes

Go to a shooting range

Practice celibacy

#artemis #helpol #diana #hellenic polytheism #paganism #witchblr #greek gods #artemis worship #deity worship #artemis offerings

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woso-fan13 · 1 year ago

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Whumptober 2023: 26 (Barca)

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

“Y/N,” a voice calls.

You hum in response, not looking up from where you’re packing your bag. Practice had just ended and you were trying to get out of there as quickly as you could. You had a list of things you needed to do.

“Want to come out tonight? We’ve got tomorrow morning off!”

You still can’t place that voice. You know who it is- one of your teammates, obviously- but your brain is exhausted and can’t pack your bag while matching the voice to a name.

“I can’t, not tonight,” you say, “have fun, though!”

You really did want to go. You would love nothing more than to have a night off to relax with your friends. But you knew you couldn't, you didn’t have time. Between practice and games for both club and national team and all of the travel associated with those, you stayed busy. Add to that your full course schedule at school and the countless commitments, you barely had time to sleep.

Your bag is finally packed at this point, and you hike it up over your shoulder. You’re about to say your goodbyes when a different voice calls your name and stops you. Pausing, you look up to where Mapi stands with an amused look on her face.

“Are you wearing that?” she asks.

Confused, you look down. You had thrown leggings and a sweatshirt on after your shower, pretty much all of the girls were wearing the same thing.

“Yeah,” you say, the statement coming as more of a question.

“Your socks will get dirty,” she chuckles.

You just blink at her, unable to process what she means. She takes pity on you, walking over to your locker. She grabs your shoes out, gently tossing them on the floor by your feet.

“Oh,” you audibly say.

“Yeah, oh,” Mapi copies you, “are you okay?”

You nod, shoving your feet into your shoes, “just busy.”

Mapi nods knowingly, “at least practice is over now. How about we drop you off so you can get some sleep?”

She motions to Ingrid when she says this. As your eyes move to look at her, you notice that the locker room is empty. Minus the said woman sitting on her locker and watching the two of you, everyone had left. You had no idea how you didn’t notice.

“That’s okay, thanks though,” you decline, “I can drive myself, I have a whole list of things I need to do tonight.”

You yawn halfway through speaking, Mapi’s face softening. She scanned your face, noticing the large, dark bags under your eyes and the tiredness covering your features.

“No, chiquita, you can’t drive home. You’re exhausted, it’s not safe.”

You want to argue, but you know she’s right. Before you can even begin to half heartedly disagree, Ingrid inserts herself into the conversation.

“Mapi can drive you back in your car, and I’ll drive ours. Does that work?”

You nod in agreement. The idea satisfies Mapi too, as you can see her mirroring your nod.

Since everyone was ready, the three of you moved to grab all of your things and head to the parking lot. Mapi shakes her head as she grabs your phone and keys from where you left them in your locker. She shoots Ingrid a look, both women frowning. You’re oblivious.

—-

The drive home is short, thankfully you lived close to the club. You’re somewhat confused when Mapi gets out and follows you to the door, your confusion growing as Ingrid follows. Surely they weren’t planning on coming inside.

They were.

The two women didn’t allow you a chance to close the door, pushing their way inside. Mapi sets off to the kitchen, clearly on a mission. You can hear as she starts looking through cabinets, but you’re too tired to care.

Ingrid places a warm hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the living room. You try to protest, insisting that you have things you need to do. She silences you quickly, insisting that you sit with her for only a few minutes. Agreeing with her, the two of you settle on the sofa. You’re leaning into her side, her hand stroking through your hair. You can feel your eyes drooping after a few seconds, but her gentle voice rouses you.

“Stay awake, baby, just for a little while longer.”

You whine in response- something you’ll vehemently deny. Ingrid smiles, allowing you to silently rest against her until Mapi appears in the room.

She’s holding a plate in her hand, a sandwich and fruit sitting on it. Sitting on the table in front of you, she pushes it into your hands.

“Coma,” she insists, “as much as you can.”

You manage about half the sandwich and all of the fruit before you look up to Mapi. She’s still sitting in front of you, watching you eat. She smiles encouragingly.

“Done?”

You nod and she takes the plate from you. You’re somewhat surprised when she sets the plate on the coffee table, moving to sit next to you on the sofa.

You try to wiggle out from between the two women. They gently stop you.

“I appreciate you driving me home and making dinner, but I really do have things I need to do,” you argue.

“You’re exhausted,” Ingrid simply says, tracing the bruises under your eyes gently with her thumb, “all you need is sleep.”

Mapi chimes in before you can respond, “she’s right, peque, it’s time for bed.”

You really want to insist that you can’t sleep yet. But you’re so tired and they’re so kind and all you want to do is sleep. You don’t remember agreeing to sleep. You don’t actually remember anything after that point.

Ingrid and Mapi watch as your body relaxes between the two of them, sleep finally taking over. The two remain still, chatting quietly. They don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize your sleep. Unfortunately, this includes moving because of the way you’re stretched across their laps.

(They don’t mind this at all. They actually think it’s very fortunate.)

Eventually, they’re pretty sure you’re zonked for the night. As much as they would love to spend the rest of the night on the sofa with you, it wouldn’t be comfortable for anyone. After a brief argument, it’s decided that Mapi will get to carry you to bed. She stands up, cradling you against her. Sticking her tongue out at Ingrid, she walks to your room and settles you under the covers. She may also stay longer than necessary, pushing the hair off of your face and watching your soft features as you sleep.

Meanwhile, Ingrid grabs the plate off of the coffee table. Going into the kitchen, she cleans everything up and starts the dishwasher. Walking over to the large calendar on the wall, she looks at the list of things to do under today’s date.

—-

You wake up in the morning to the sun shining in through your blinds. That’s not good. You don’t remember falling asleep and you were supposed to be awake before the sun rose. Taking a deep breath and resigning yourself to less sleep tonight as you make everything up, you get out of bed.

Walking into the living room, you notice that it’s much cleaner than when you went to bed. Suspiciously, you move into the kitchen. That, too, is sparkling clean.

The next thing to catch your eye is the changes on your calendar. That was your baby, your whole life ran on that large whiteboard. So, when you noticed different color markers and new handwriting, your breath caught in your throat.

Walking over, you can see the list of activities you were supposed to do last night crossed out. You also see that most of the things you need to do tonight are crossed out, instead replaced with a large “sleep!”

Oh.

Mapi and Ingrid had done it all for you.

Tears well in your eyes at the kind gesture. You only manage to stop them when you hear quiet footsteps behind you.

Turning around, you see a half awake Ingrid. She’s smiling, clearly pleased with the surprise. You hurry over and wrap her in a tight hug, whispering your thanks. Another set of arms joins the two of you- Mapi.

#woso imagine #womens soccer #reader insert #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso community #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barca #fc barca #mapi leon #ingrid engen

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rotzaprachim · 1 day ago

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there’s also just a big problem with differences in culture, aesthetics, and lifestyle that are strongly tied to demographics, geography, and ethnicity- and therefor political orientation- instead being read as indicators of class, with things more common among the urban populations, people of color, young women, and Jews - and therefor liberals - being taken as snobby, elitest and upper class while things more common or associated with rural and white people are real, authentic, middle class, and true. In both cases they’re just ways to spend money that often aren’t inherently progressive OR conservative, because you’ll find urban conservatives and rural liberals, but they are also therefor not sole markers of class, which is why I need people to get a hell of a lot smarter with their class consciousness - I’m sick of liberals doing some woe is me business and leftists repeating conservative logic.

there’s nothing inherently more expensive about having higher value hiking gear and fleeces than hunting gear - but only the first is suss. Hiking is not an inherently more upper class sport than hunting. Yeah you don’t get food from it, but it’s also got a much lower start up cost, and it’s a way for people from densely packed urban areas to become nature. People in cities like coffee shops and cafes because they’re places to meet with friends when your apartment is too small to fit anyone - that isn’t an inherently more resource intensive thing to do than have a house in the suburbs or rural areas big enough for everyone to come over! Ditto support for museums and cultural attractions - these are often free or cut price and safe places to take children or spend time on the city. Ditto things for urban areas, especially working class urban life, like bike paths, bike racks, and bike recharging areas. A top quality urban electric bike is often less expensive to buy and then maintain than a cheap car, esp if you’re a single person and single commuter, as many urban people are. A subscription to a local theatre company or indie movie theatre may well cost less than cable and have something every week. Tofu and hummus may cost less than the most classic meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Good walking shoes and fancy headphones may be essential gear for people who walk miles and take noisy public transport. Overall, a lot of the famous liberal excesses of elitest yuppies and urbanites are often fully logical indulgences when taken in combination with living in much less resources intensive housing, in more tightly packed areas, and with greater walking and public transport.

my point isn’t that any of these things are good or bad ways to spend money. It’s the reverse. (A lot of working class and poor urban dwellers are left out of the above, but a lot of working class and poor rural dwellers are left out of the aestheticisrd Middle America working man miasma of single family homes, trucks, and thanksgiving dinner. In both cases this is about the middle class norms.) Nor is it that there are inherently right wing or left wing ways to spend money. My point instead is that America fundamentally has a problem with thinking that the aesthetics of the more rural areas are “good” and understandable whereas the aesthetics and lifestyles of more urbanized areas are elitest and suspicious for things that are fundamentally just different ways to allocate and spend money in ways that are perfectly logical relative to location. Everyone needs to get a lot sharper if they really want to work out what the problems are.

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teapartyprincess4two · 7 months ago

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Vampire- J. Guilbert (prologue)

pairing: Princess!reader x Vampire!Johnnie

classification: SMUT, fluff, slight angst, vampire AU

inspiration: request1, request2, Vampire by Johnnie Guilbert

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex; mentions of mortality, biting, blood, parental death, death, killing; set in 14th-17th century Renaissance, pretty modern dialogue tbh, sub!Johnnie (kinda?), use of Y/n

summary: You take your relationship with Johnnie, your vampire lover, one step further.

Vampire PT.1

—

Autumn leaves crunch against your shoes as you walk through the castle garden. Beautiful red and white roses line the outer walls, each one beginning to die due to the cold temperature the season has brought.

You take a fleeting look behind you, footsteps quickening as you follow the row of roses to the garden’s outer gate. If anyone were to see or follow you, you’d have to save your escape for another day.

Luckily, no one is watching. The guards are too busy patrolling the front of the castle, your father is in a neighboring village, Bernadette is completing her chores, and your mother is deeply immersed in literature in the castle library.

Your hand pushes against the big, rusty gate. You hold your breath and wince when the metal creaks, examining your surroundings one last time before slipping through the crack.

The ground is soft, dead leaves and fog hiding your feet as they trudge through the mud.

“Johnnie?” you whisper shout, your delicate hand supporting itself against a tree. No response, just a howling gush of wind.

You decide to hike further, knowing that Johnnie hates meeting you close to the castle. After walking for some minutes, you find yourself in a clearing.

Moonlight shines through the gaps between the branches and the meadow’s bioluminescent moss glows with every footstep.

“Johnnie?” you try again, only raising your volume slightly.

You wait for a response, or to see his figure approach from within the forest, but all you hear is a coyote crying in the distance.

Every 3 days you venture out into the forest. Sometimes he shows, sometimes he doesn’t; it’s something that he’s explained to you time and time again. He’s a vampire, viewed as a predator by the rest of the world, and when he has villagers coming after him it just isn’t safe to meet you.

He’d never forgive himself if anything ever happened to you, and you know that, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

You’re about to give up and walk back home, when cold fingers swoop your long hair to one side. Johnnie’s lips find your skin, trailing kisses from your shoulder to the soft spot behind your ear

“I’m here, Princess,” he murmurs.

A smile forms on your face as your head falls back onto his shoulder. His arms have wrapped around your waist, holding you in place firmly as he continues feathering kisses all over your exposed skin.

“I’ve missed you, my love,” his breath fans against you, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve missed you more,” you reply, and it’s true.

You turn to face him, warm hands delicately landing on his face. He’s so beyond beautiful, especially under the soft moonlight.

Your eyes dance over his face, watching as his fangs twinkle when he smiles. Most women would be running away in fear at the sight, but it only makes your knees buckle.

“3 days is too long.” His voice is still quiet, almost like he’s afraid someone is lurking nearby, ready to save you from a monster like him.

“You could just come visit me in the castle after everyone’s fallen asleep,” you suggest. His face was slowly inching towards yours, but he stops in his tracks at your comment.

“Y/n,” he warns, using your actual name instead of a pet name.

“We’ve been over this.”

“I know— it’s just— I miss you.” The last part sounds more defeated than you’d like.

“It’s not like we have forever, you know,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around your waist for some comfort. He knows that your time together is limited, and he hates that you’re constantly reminding him.

“Don’t start this again. Please,” he pleads. You only have a few hours together before the sun rises and he’s forced back into hiding, he doesn’t want to spend those fleeting moments arguing.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breaking slightly at the end. You’re close to breaking down into tears and he knows it.

“Y/n.” He pulls your gaze to his by your chin. Your eyes are glossy, a heartbreaking sight.

“I promise it won’t always be like this,” he says, not breaking eye contact. You’re not sure you believe him, mainly because of the ticking time bomb that is your mortality, but you want to believe him.

“Promise?” Your eyes hold so much hope.

“Promise.” He pulls your face in, finally kissing you after what seems like forever.

It’s slow and passionate, your lips moulding together at a steady rhythm. His hand holds a firm grip of your face, the other resting on your hip and pulling you closer to him.

You’re wearing a simple dress that contrasts your usual, elaborate gowns. So, as he pulls you in, you feel his erection pokes your lower abdomen. Subconsciously, his hips grind against you and a strained sound escapes his throat. He pulls away from the kiss, forehead flush against yours.

“What’s wrong?” you asks. His hand still holds your face and yours travels up to hold it, caressing his skin with your thumb.

“I should just— you should just go home,” he says, attempting to pull away from you completely, but you manage to keep him there. It’s surprising how someone so strong can be so weak when they’re in love.

“What? Why? We still have a couple hours left before the sun rises.”

“Because it’s dangerous out here. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

You roll your eyes. “No one is out here, Johnnie.”

He’s quiet. His mind his racing as he fights against his sinful thoughts. What he wants is to make love to you under the soft moonlight, but he’s worried that once he gets a taste of you, he won’t be able to control himself.

“Tell me what’s really wrong,” you say, pulling his hand off of your face to place gentle kisses on his knuckles.

“I’m just… I’m scared,” he admits. It’s an embarrassing confession coming from him, someone who doesn’t have to worry about anything other than what his next meal is gonna be.

You urge him to continue with your eyes.

“You do things to me that I can’t explain. I feel things that I’m not sure I can control when I’m around you.” Confusion is written all over your face.

“Here.” He guides your hand down to his erection, letting it cup his member over the fabric of his pants. “That’s what you do to me,” he gulps, struggling to hold himself back.

The feeling of your small hand wrapped around him is already excruciating enough, and the images that his imagination creates don’t help either.

“Johnnie,” you begin, already sounding breathless. A wetness grows between your thighs, and they subconsciously press together to relieve some tension.

“You’re not going to hurt me.” He appreciates the reassurance, but he’s still uncertain.

“I don’t want to risk it,” he replies through gritted teeth. His eyes clench shut when you begin massaging him, dick twitching and begging for release.

“Let me make you feel good. We can stop if it becomes too much,” you whisper, inching your face closer to his until your breath fans against his lips.

Your lips are ghosting his, barely grazing as he replies, “What if I can’t control myself? What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t. I know you won’t.”

Finally you close the gap between you two, opening your mouth to give him the access he’s been craving. It’s a sloppy, needy kiss fueled with passion and hunger. Your tongues battle for dominance, each lap mixed with moans and whimpers.

There’s a large tree stump in the middle of the clearing and you slowly guide Johnnie towards it by his hips. He walks backwards until his calves hit the bark, knees bending, causing him to sit.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you like you’re his most prized possession as he stares up at you in awe. “I’m in control, okay?” you say, kissing him again before allowing your dress to fall past your shoulders and onto the ground.

Immediately, he tenses, feeling his animal instincts overcome him. The hunger is painful, so painful that his grip around you tightens. You’re not wearing a bra or panties, a beautiful sight that causes his pupils to dilate.

“Hey, look at me,” you say gently. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

Johnnie nods his head, allowing his eyes to dance over your body. You’re so beautiful; your round breasts bouncing slightly with your every movement and your curvy hips swaying as you position yourself between his thighs.

He can’t take it anymore, he needs to taste you. You gasp as Johnnie suddenly takes your left nipple in his mouth, gently sucking and licking on your sensitive nub.

“I really, really need you,” he rasps against your skin. “I know baby. I know,” you reply through a strained moan. Your hand finds his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.

His lips travel from your nipple to the valley of your breasts, kissing licking his way down to your belly button. “You’re so beautiful.”

You’re about to reply but his mouth feverishly makes its way back to yours before you can, engulfing your lips in a steamy makeout session that has you whimpering. You can feel him trying to take control, and if you want this night to go well, that can’t happen.

So, you make work of his pants and underwear in between kisses, tugging at the fabric until it pools on the ground around his ankles. His penis springs free, slapping against his stomach.

“Remember who’s in control,” you remind him through the kiss.

He takes a deep breath, resting his forehead against your chest as he attempts to compose himself; to measure his strength as you two venture into uncharted territory.

You play with his hair, giving him the time he needs before pushing him back onto the tree stump until he’s laying on his back. Slowly, you crawl over him until you’re straddling his lap.

You lean down to his ear, placing a few open mouth kisses on the nape of his neck as you whisper, “We’re gonna take this slow, okay?”

“I—” he begins, cutting himself off.

“We can stop if you want to.”

“I don’t want to stop,” he says, “and that’s the problem because…”

“Because if I were to hurt you, Y/n, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself. I’m struggling to keep my composure and we haven’t even done anything yet. If I get too carried away, pull me back into reality with you. Please,” he pleads the last part, tentative hands coming to rest on your hips. His touch is gentle, but firm.

You don’t respond, instead you nod your head and take his cock into your hands, dragging it up and down your slick folds before lining it with your entrance. His grip on your waist tightens as you begin to sink down on him, he clenches his jaw and watches tentatively as you take him without complaint.

A small moan escapes your lips at the stretch, your hands falling onto his chest for support. His skin is ice cold, a sensation that you quickly welcome. Johnnie fights to keep his composure, teeth digging so far into his lip that he’s drawing blood.

“Ready?” you ask sweetly. Johnnie responds by bucking his hips upwards, ensuring not to get too lost in the feeling.

He’s amazed that someone as delicate as you can hold this much power over him. He’s putty in your hands, he can’t remember the last time he felt this submissive.

You take the hint and begin moving up and down on his cock, bracing yourself with hands on his chest and knees on either side of his hips.

Johnnie’s grip on your waist is getting impossibly tighter, and if you weren’t so immersed in the pleasure, you might’ve registered the pain.

Your boobs bounce with your every movement, placing Johnnie in a lust filled trance. Your hair falls over one of your shoulders, swaying back and forth under the soft moonlight.

“Sit up please,” you command, your voice strained. Johnnie does as he’s told, and immediately you guide his face towards your breast. He’s hesitant at first, but the look you give him is enough to convince him that he can keep himself from taking a delicious bite from you.

His lips wrap around your left nipple as you continue bouncing up and down on his member. He’s completely lost in the euphoric feeling of you wrapped around him, a strong arm tightening around your figure.

“Johnnie,” you moan, your voice bringing him back to reality. He loosens his grip and brings you in for a kiss, drunkenly moulding his mouth against yours as you continue whimpering into his mouth.

His tongue swipes your bottom lip, begging for entrance so he can taste you. One of your moans serves as the perfect opportunity for him to slip his tongue in your mouth, drenching you like his existence depended on it.

Your tongue grazes one of his fangs, cutting you just enough for him to taste your blood. You feel the prick, but continue bouncing on his cock without paying too much attention.

“You’re doing so good, just like I knew you would,” you speak into the kiss. He loves the praise, especially because he just tasted your blood for the first time and can easily say he’s already addicted to

The position you were currently in was amazing, but your knees were starting to hurt and you really wanted to see what he’d look like from on top of you.

You hop off of him, earning a wince from him from the lack of contact. You lay back on the tree stump, innertwining your hand in his as you guide him over you. He follows your lead, immediately returning to the heated makeout session from before.

Slowly, he positions himself between your legs and lines himself up with your entrance. “Are you sure?” he asks breathlessly. This position gives him all the power, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop himself even if you try pulling him back to reality.

But you’re not scared of him, you never have been and you never could be. “Yes, my love. I’m sure.”

He looks beautiful on top of you, everything about his dark aura luring you in. Johnnie slowly sinks himself into you, one of his hands gripping the edge of the tree stump. The bark is rough against his fingers as he applies a pressure so powerful that it cracks the aged wood.

His thrusts are slow at first as he tries setting a manageable pace, but as he continues his eyes cloud with lust and desire and he begins pounding into you. The sound of your skin slapping together and your moans echo through the forest, his tip kissing your cervix every time.

His forehead is flush against yours. Johnnie loves you so much and it’s evident in the way his red eyes never break eye contact, despite the intensity of his movements.

He’s fighting against his strength to stop himself from breaking you in half, because if he really wanted to he could.

You keep bucking your hips into his as you chase your pending orgasm. Johnnie’s head falls onto your shoulder, grunts and groans fanning against your neck as his other hand pushes your hips down.

Your skin was sure to bruise, but none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was the feeling of his pelvis rubbing against your clit, bringing you dangerously close to your climax.

“I’m close!” you squeak.

Johnnie continues to snap his hips into you, fangs grazing your skin ever so slightly. He wants to do it; to take a bite of you, but he’s willing himself not to.

You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him in until all he can do is roll his hips against you. Your pussy flutters around his cock as your orgasm washes over you.

The feeling of your spongy, warm walls clenching around him is enough to send him over the edge. His unmatched strength breaks yet another piece of the tree. He needed to occupy his mouth, so he’s latching onto your neck and sucking until the skin is bruised.

“I love you,” he murmurs through his orgasm, repeating the sentence so many times that it’s engraved in your mind.

Your voice is choppy as you try catching your breath, “I love you too.”

—

The next morning you wake up on a comfortable mattress surrounded by expensive pillows and a billowy comforter, but you wish you were still in the forest with Johnnie.

The night replays in your mind as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. A yawn escapes your lips as you stretch.

Suddenly you feel a throbbing pain on your waist. Your fingers trail down to the sensitive skin and you wince once they make contact.

Slowly, you throw the comforter to the side and walk over to your vanity. You bunch the fabric of your nightgown up against your breasts as you examine yourself in the mirror.

Your skin was lined with bruises so purple they were almost black. Quickly, you adjust your dress and make a mental note not to let Johnnie see them. You wouldn’t see him for another three days anyways, that was enough time for you to heal, right? Wrong.

Three days have passed and your bruises have only become more sensitive. They’re easy to hide when you’re home, mostly because you wear dresses so big that no one would ever notice them. The hickeys on your neck were masked with makeup and hidden behind your long hair.

You decide to stay home, because you know that Johnnie will somehow find out about the secret you hide under your clothes.

Just as you’re getting ready for bed, a sudden gush of wind blows past you. Johnnie enters through your bedroom window, looking around your room in a panicked frenzy until his eyes land on your figure.

“Johnnie?” you question in surprise. “Thank God you’re okay,” he sighs in relief, immediately walking over to you.

“You didn’t come to visit me,” he whispers sadly, “Why?”

When he waited in the clearing, and you never appeared, his mind raced with every and any possibly. Did someone hurt you? Was your kingdom under attack? Did you regret that night?

“I’ve just been really tired,” you say. It’s a lame excuse, but you hope he believes it.

“Did I do something wrong?” Johnnie’s hands land on your hips. You immediately wince, but try masking it with a cough. It’s no use though, he notices right away.

Johnnie bawls the fabric of your nightgown in his hands, ready to expose whatever you’re hiding. “Wait! No, Johnnie—” you try pushing him away, buts he’s so strong that he barely moves.

He wastes no time in lifting your nightgown, revealing the bruises that he left on your skin just three nights ago.

“I promise they look worse than they are,” you try and reason, but he’s not hearing any of it. His jaw is clenched, eyes trained on the horrific colors that blend across your skin.

“Never again,” he grits, letting the fabric of your dress fall back down. It felt like a shameful curtain, you wanted to rip it off and crawl into bed.

“What?!” your voice cracks.

“You heard me. Never again. If that’s what I did with my hands, imagine what would’ve happened if I lost control.”

“But I can take it—”

“Yeah? You think you’ll be saying that when my fangs inevitably find their way to your neck?” he snaps, his tone so harsh that it slaps against your ears.

“So then turn me,” you reply. Everything always seemed so simple to you, but becoming a vampire wasn’t something he ever wanted you to experience.

“Don’t,” he warns.

“Why not, Johnnie? Huh? Why not? Are we just going to continue having this same conversation until the day I die? Do you think I asked for the bruises? All I wanted was to love you, but if I’m going to continue getting hurt then why not just turn me?”

He remains silent, watching as the tears brim your eyes.

“I can’t live in a world where I don’t get to love you, to properly love you,” your voice is hushed, tears streaming down your face as you sit on the edge of your bed. “It isn’t fair.”

“I’m a monster, Y/n. All I do is hurt everything and everyone I love. Trust me, you don’t want to love someone like me,” he spits. His words completely contradict what he truly feels.

“I didn’t ask to love you, Johnnie. I just... do.” You sound so defeated.

He sighs, kneeling front of you and trying to catch your gaze. “I love you too, Y/n. That’s why this hurts me so much. I don’t want to be the reason for your pain, even if it is accidental. I want to protect you so that I can love you for as long as possible. Do you understand that?”

“Then love me,” you plead, “What’s the point of protecting me if you’re not staying true to your promise? We’re running out of time, Johnnie. Everyday I wake up a little older and a little closer to death, so please just love me. Love me despite our differences. Love me even if you think I’m weak.”

You bring him in for a kiss, one that is so passionate that he can’t find it in himself to pull away. You lean back onto the bed, pulling him with you until he’s laying on top of you.

“Princess, please.”

“Just love me.” You murmur against his lips, and just like that he’s making love to you under the soft candlelight that illuminates your room.

From that moment forward, Johnnie has vowed to love you everyday like it’s your last.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: thanks for being patient with me guys, ily! Also I hope you enjoy this anon (requests are linked) I haven’t proofread this so be gentle with me guys 🥹 I’ll proofread it mañana

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 5 months ago

Text

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 31

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 5.1K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

You hated the way these shoes felt. The House of Wind had generously provided a pair of stunning blue pumps, but it had overlooked one crucial fact: you had about as much experience walking in heels as a baby fawn. The woods had not exactly trained you for this. You took a tentative step across your room, feeling your toes smash into the front of the shoes. While you were pleasantly surprised by your ability to balance, each mild shuffle felt like you were torturing your feet. You huffed, plopping down on the edge of the bed, your gown fanning out around you like a defeated banner as you blew a stray tendril of hair from your face.

Leaning down, you hiked the skirt up around your thighs, yanking your already reddened toes from their tiny prisons. From the doorway came a familiar chuckle, and when you glanced up, Azriel stood there, arms crossed, his wings casually fanned out behind him.

Straightening, you sat up with the shoes in hand before chucking them onto the carpet, where one heel clattered over the other. “Those are a death trap,” you declared, pointing at the offending objects.

“I could hear you cursing at them all the way down the hall,” he said, strolling over to sit next to you on the bed.

You dropped your hands into your lap, looking up at him with an exaggerated pout. “How are things downstairs?”

Azriel snorted lightly, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, you know, the usual chaos. Cassian decided to wear a different suit than the one Nesta picked out for him. Now she’s following him around, threatening to kill him in his sleep if he doesn’t change back.”

You laughed quietly, “That’s about what I expected. Anyone else here?”

Azriel rubbed his hands on his thighs, trying to dry some anxious sweat. “Elain and Lucien arrived a little while ago.”

“How’s Lucien?” you asked, curiosity piqued. Lucien had been very quiet about the ball, likely due to the complicated and still-tentative relationship between the Night and Autumn Courts.

Lucien had been navigating the treacherous waters of familial politics, attempting to reconnect with his estranged brothers. Since Eris had taken over the High Lordship—thanks to a mysteriously convenient assassination of their father—he’d been trying to mend fences with the rest of their testosterone-charged family. From what Elain had shared, Lucien and she had been attending various Autumn Court events and “family dinners,” which typically ended in a shouting match between one or more of the volatile males at the table. The couple often left before dessert, much to everyone’s relief.

Lucien’s reintegration into the Autumn Court had been rocky, to say the least. Many courtiers still viewed him with suspicion, especially after the revelation of his true paternity involving Helion. The court, with its rigid emphasis on bloodline purity, wasn’t exactly rolling out the welcome mat for him. His status was a delicate issue, and despite Eris’s attempts to shield him, Lucien was perpetually walking on eggshells.

You hadn’t yet had the pleasure—or the burden—of meeting Eris or any of Lucien’s other brothers. Tonight marked the first time Eris would attend a formal event at the House of Wind, and the stress of this high-stakes gathering was palpable. You could almost hear the collective holding of breath echoing through the grand halls.

Azriel chuckled, interrupting your thoughts. “Lucien’s playing it cool, but you can tell he’s a bit on edge. It’s like watching a fox trying to pretend it’s a housecat.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “What about you?” you asked, peering up at Azriel. He stared ahead toward the door, his usually calm demeanor slightly off-kilter. You could hear his heartbeat pumping faster than its normal steady cadence.

Azriel shook his head, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “I’m fine,” he said, though his tone betrayed a hint of unease.

You kept your gaze on him. This was one of the few times you’d seen Azriel genuinely unsettled, his usual composure slipping. “You sure?” you probed lightly, eyebrows raised in playful skepticism.

Azriel remained focused on the doorway, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your heart is beating quickly,” you replied, noting the slight rise and fall of his chest as he took a few steadying breaths, clearly trying to keep you from noticing. “You’re being more aloof than usual.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head, a mild offense coloring his expression. “Aloof?” He turned to face you, his brows knitting together. “I’m not aloof.”

You tilted your head to the side, your eyes widening with exaggerated incredulity. “Oh, come on.”

Azriel leaned forward, his dark eyes glinting with mock seriousness. “No, what do you mean by aloof? I’m not aloof.”

You pushed yourself up from the bed, rolling your eyes dramatically, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Mr. ‘I use my shadows to eavesdrop on conversations and hide from groups of people’ thinks he isn’t aloof?” You made your way into the closet, hoping to find footwear that didn’t feel like medieval torture devices.

Azriel’s voice followed you, slightly indignant. “It’s my job!”

You squatted in front of the shoe rack, lined with elegant but impractical heels you had no intention of wearing. “Isn’t there a saying that if you love what you do, you never work a day in your life?” you called back, your fingers brushing over the backs of the shoes.

With a soft, almost magical rustle, a pair of midnight blue flats with a subtle orange shimmer appeared at the end of the shelf. You glanced upwards, a smile playing on your lips as you whispered a quiet thank you to the House.

Slipping them on, you sighed in relief, feeling like you’d been freed from a mini prison. You straightened your dress and walked back into the main room where Azriel now lay sprawled out on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge, feet touching the floor, his back and wings spread across the blankets as he stared at the ceiling.

He glanced sideways at you, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You really think I’m aloof?”

You rolled your eyes again, walking over and wrapping your hand around the bedpost. “I think you’re introverted,” you replied, leaning your head against the wood, a teasing glint in your eyes. “And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“Doesn’t that just make me charming and mysterious?” he asked, winking mischievously.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “If you have to plant the seed of charm and mystery in someone’s head, I think that answers your own question.” You pushed off the bedpost, moving to check yourself in the mirror.

The reflection staring back at you was almost unrecognizable. Your cheeks, once gaunt and shadowed, now had a healthy, rosy hue. Your eyes, once dull and lifeless, sparkled with a light you hadn’t seen in ages. The dark circles that had seemed a permanent fixture had faded. You looked more alive, and it was a feeling you were still trying to get used to.

You heard the rustle of the bed as Azriel sat up. Glancing at him in the mirror, you threw him a small smile. “I just want to make sure you’re doing okay,” you said.

Azriel met your gaze in the reflection, his expression softening. “I should be the one worried about you,” he replied, rising and pulling down the legs of his pants, straightening his jacket over his broad shoulders.

You turned to face him, leaning your hips against the dressing table, hands braced on either side. “Doesn’t mean I can’t also be concerned about your wellbeing.”

Azriel gave a tight smile, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. “I just don’t love these parties.”

Your own amused smile glimmered to your face as you crossed the room to him, your hands reaching up to straighten the collar of his jacket. The fabric was smooth and cool under your fingers, and you noticed the subtle blue threads woven into the dark cloth, catching the light with a gentle shimmer. Azriel’s eyes softened further, following your movements with a warmth that sent a flutter through your chest.

Satisfied with the collar’s alignment, you met his gaze, his eyes lingering on you with a gentle intensity. You patted his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath the finely tailored suit. “That’s the aloof part coming out.”

Azriel scoffed, rolling his eyes and pushing back slightly, though his lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “I prefer enigmatic.”

You laughed lightly, gripping his arm as he tried to pull away. “I’m sorry,” you drawled playfully. “Just was an easy shot.” You held onto his jacket a bit tighter as he pulled you to him, wrapping you in a bear hug. The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric.

“You’re insufferable,” he whispered, shaking you lightly, the vibrations making you giggle.

“And yet you suffer me,” you retorted, your face buried in his chest, muffling your laughter against the soft fabric.

Azriel released you, “Every day is a new day of suffering when you’re around,” he teased back.

From down the hall, the faint strains of violins and piano floated up the stairs, their melodies intertwining in a harmonious dance.

Azriel sighed, looking down at you with a tight smile, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. “We should go down.”

You nodded as Azriel extended his elbow to you, the gesture almost comically formal. You stared at it, one brow arching incredulously. “Are we really these kinds of fae now?”

“Well, might as well put on a good show,” he responded, his lips quirking into a playful grin.

Wrapping your hands around his forearm, you felt the solid strength beneath his sleeve, the warmth of his skin through the fabric. His muscles relaxed slightly as your fingers pressed into him.

You and Azriel stepped out of the room, the soft glow of faelights casting a gentle sheen on the polished floorboards as you walked down the hall towards the source of the merry strains. The music grew louder, filling the air with a sense of festivity.

“I feel ridiculous,” you whispered, the dress rustling softly with each step.

“You should see how you look,” Azriel taunted, his tone light and teasing.

You gave him a hearty elbow in the stomach, feeling the firmness of his muscles under your nudge, though it barely moved him. “Kidding,” he quickly followed up, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “You look great.”

As you and Azriel descended the sweeping marble staircase, the strains of music grew ever more pronounced, each note reverberating through the grand hall and mingling with the fluttering of your heartbeat. The staircase was bathed in the soft glow of faelight, casting intricate patterns on the polished stone beneath your feet, and the opulent banister, adorned with golden filigree, gleamed in the ambient light. Azriel’s reassuring squeeze on your hand anchored you as you reached the bottom.

You pushed open the ornate double doors to the grand ballroom, your breath catching in your chest at the sight that unfolded before you. While you had been involved with the planning and decorations, the transformation of the space was nothing short of breathtaking. The room was a living, breathing embodiment of elegance, a symphony of colors, lights, and textures that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

The ceiling soared above you, draped with cascading garlands of autumn leaves, their hues shifting from deep crimson to burnished gold, interwoven with shimmering strands of faelight. Chandeliers hung like glittering constellations, their crystal prisms scattering light in a thousand rainbows that danced across the gleaming floor. The walls were lined with tall, arched windows, their mullions draped in rich velvet curtains of deep blue.

The great hall was alive with movement and music, the harmonious melodies of violins and a grand piano filling the air, their notes weaving through the laughter and conversations of the fae in attendance. Fae of all courts glided across the floor in a whirlwind of flowing gowns and finely tailored suits, the vibrant fabrics swishing and swirling in time with the music. The variety of attire was dazzling, each ensemble more intricate and resplendent than the last.

You marveled at the Autumn Court attendees, their attire reflecting the splendor of their season. Gowns of fiery red, rich burgundy, and shimmering gold adorned the fae, their outfits detailed with delicate embroidery depicting leaves and vines, and accented with gemstones that sparkled like embers. The Night Court fae wore attire that mirrored the midnight sky, with deep blues, blacks, and silvers, their clothing often adorned with subtle, luminescent patterns that caught the light like distant stars. Spring courtiers flashed about in pastels and soft silks, while Day court attendees were drenched in golden jewelry.

You took in the sight of the dancers, their movements graceful and fluid as they twirled and spun across the floor. The room was a kaleidoscope of motion, the fae weaving in and out, their laughter a musical accompaniment to the live orchestra that played on a raised platform. Couples waltzed beneath the glittering chandeliers, their steps perfectly synchronized with the lilting strains of the music, their faces illuminated with joy.

Azriel’s hand tightened around yours, pulling you gently from your reverie. He led you into the room, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the overwhelming splendor. His eyes, always sharp and vigilant, softened as he took in your wide-eyed wonder. “You look like you’ve seen magic for the first time,” he murmured, his voice carrying a note of fond amusement.

Your gaze darted around the room, trying to absorb every detail. “It’s just… it’s so much more than I imagined,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Nesta outdid herself, didn’t she?”

You nodded, your eyes tracing the path of a garland that wove its way around the towering columns, each leaf seeming to flutter in an unseen breeze. “She did,” you agreed, your voice filled with awe. “It’s like stepping into a dream.”

It seemed that merely speaking her name conjured her, as Nesta, the ever-diligent hostess, glided through the throng of partygoers. Her face lit up in a bright smile the moment she spotted you, her eyes sparkling under the golden faelight. Her gown was nothing short of breathtaking: a flowing cream masterpiece with a high neckline and intricate pearl embroidery that darkened elegantly as it reached her neck. Her hair was an intricate marvel of its own, braided into a low bun adorned with tiny golden stars that shimmered delicately between the plaits.

“Y/N!” she greeted, her voice breaking into a smile as she reached out and clasped your hands, her touch warm and reassuring. “You look stunning!” she exclaimed, stepping back to take in your ensemble, her eyes dancing with delight as she looked you up and down.

“Look at you?!” you countered, motioning with a sweep of your hand over her exquisite gown.

Nesta smirked, gracefully lifting the skirt of her dress and giving it a playful twirl. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” she said, her voice brimming with pride and amusement.

From behind you, Azriel chimed in, his tone softer, “You look beautiful, Nesta.”

Nesta’s gaze shifted over your shoulder, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Azriel’s appearance. Her tongue pressed into her cheek, and a mischievous glint lit up her eyes. “Well, well, well, the Shadowsinger cleans up nicely.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Nesta’s expression softened, her smile turning genuine as she gave Azriel an appreciative nod. “You look great, Az.” Then, her attention snapped back to you. She lifted the upper skirt of your dress lightly, examining the material with a keen eye. “The House really outdid itself, didn’t it?”

You felt a small rush of gratitude, though it quickly turned to mild embarrassment as Nesta’s eyes narrowed slightly, her brows knitting together when she noticed your lack of heels.

You quickly smoothed down the dress, offering her an apologetic smile. “I couldn’t do the shoes.”

Nesta's eyes twinkled with amusement as she tilted her head. “I’m just impressed you convinced it to let you wear flats. The House usually prefers heels.”

You sighed in relief, your shoulders relaxing. “Well, I think it saw me struggling to take steps and decided not to let me scuff the floors all night.”

Nesta laughed, the sound warm and light. “I guess I’ll have to complain more.” She glanced over your shoulder, her eyes catching someone’s attention as she raised a hand to wave. “I have to do the rounds,” she said, already moving away, her attention shifting to the fae she was flagging down. “But I’ll see you a little later?”

You nodded, returning her smile. “Definitely.”

As she disappeared into the crowd, you turned to find Azriel leaning casually against the wall, his posture relaxed yet alert, his eyes scanning the sea of bodies. You joined him, standing close to his side. “I said hi to Nesta. Can we leave now?” you joked, a playful tone in your voice.

“I wish,” he grumbled, though his eyes softened as he looked at you.

You took a moment to absorb the scene, the room alive with color and movement. Gowns of deep emeralds, shimmering golds, and striking crimsons twirled in the warm glow of the chandeliers. The soft strains of violins wove through the air, mingling with the quiet hum of laughter and conversation. It felt as if you had stepped into a painting.

As you turned to comment, Azriel muttered something under his breath, his eyes narrowing. Before you could ask, he gently grasped your arm, pulling you closer with a surprising urgency.

You were about to protest when another male approached, cutting a striking figure in a white tunic with a low-cut V-neck, embroidered with swirling red and orange leaves along the collar, and a deep maroon jacket that framed his muscular frame. His skin, a creamy canvas, was freckled like a dusting of autumn leaves. The voice that crooned like smoldering embers purred, “Azriel. It’s been too long.”

You glanced up, taking in the male’s sharp, chiseled features—a jawline as defined as his toned chest, russet eyes flecked with gold, and ginger curls styled back with a hint of rebellion. His lower lip, full and inviting, curved into a smile that revealed dimples at the corners, adding a touch of charm to his otherwise imposing presence.

Azriel’s grip on your arm tightened slightly, a barely audible growl rumbling in his throat. The red-haired male’s grin was sharp, laced with a poison that seemed designed to provoke Azriel.

“Philip,” Azriel responded, his voice strained, almost choking on the name.

Philip’s eyes flicked over Azriel with predatory ease, sizing him up with a single glance. “You look halfway decent,” he said, his tone dripping with calculated condescension.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his response terse, “As do you.”

Philip’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes lingering on where Azriel’s hand rested on your arm, as if he were contemplating where to place his own claim. His smile widened into a feline curl. “And who is this,” he paused, eyes sweeping over you, “stunning creature?”

Azriel took a deep, steadying breath, his fingers tracing the length of your arm to settle possessively on your lower back. “This is Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet restrained, his jaw clenching ever so slightly.

Philip’s smile broadened, his long fingers extending towards you. “Exquisite,” he murmured, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to it that lingered just a fraction too long. Azriel’s muscles tensed beside you, his grip tightening as Philip’s lips touched your skin.

When Philip straightened, his eyes darted back to Azriel, a flicker of satisfaction in their depths. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you?” he purred, his voice a silken caress.

Azriel exhaled sharply through his nose, his breath a barely restrained growl. “I’m a friend of Nesta’s,” you interjected, your smile syrupy sweet. You sensed the animosity crackling between the two males and refused to become a pawn in their unspoken battle.

Philip’s auburn brows arched, his head tilting in feigned curiosity. “I wasn’t aware Nesta kept such,” his gaze swept over you again, “delectable company.”

Your smile turned razor-sharp, your voice laced with saccharine defiance. “I like to think I elevate her tastes.”

Philip’s eyes glittered with amusement, his smile twisting into something more predatory. “Azriel,” he said, his tone almost playful, as he shifted his attention back to the Shadowsinger, “would you mind if I borrowed this,” his eyes flicked back to you, “most enchanting creature for a dance?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched visibly, his eyes narrowing as he fought to keep his composure. “Actually,” he began, his voice low and measured, “we were just about to—”

You placed a hand on Azriel’s chest, feeling the tension radiating from him. “It’s alright,” you said softly, though your eyes remained locked on Philip’s. “I wouldn’t want to deprive him of a dance.”

You felt Azriel’s fingers flex lightly on your back, a silent plea for caution. Before he could respond, you cut in, your voice laced with a subtle challenge, “I’m sure I don’t need Azriel to give me permission.”

Philip’s smile widened, a wolfish grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Quite right,” he purred, extending his hand with an elegant, yet predatory flourish. You slipped your own into his grip, which tightened more than you liked, a vice masked as politeness. As he led you into the undulating crowd, you glanced back at Azriel. His eyes blazed, shadows pooling around his feet, his jaw set in a rigid line. You gave him a small nod, brows arching in reassurance, though it felt like a lie even to yourself.

Philip maneuvered you through the mass of swirling fae, his hand sliding possessively low on your hip, just shy of indecency. The kiss he planted on your hand was a charade of gallantry, a veneer over his palpable menace. He drew you close, the fabric of your dress whispering as it brushed against his maroon jacket, which seemed almost aflame under the ballroom’s lights.

His gaze pierced yours, an intensity that made your skin prickle. “So, why are you really here?” he murmured, his breath warm and dangerously close to your ear.

You moved with calculated grace, the swish of your dress a soft counterpoint to the music. “I’m sorry?” you replied, maintaining an air of innocent confusion.

“You’re not a court member,” Philip continued, his eyes flicking over you, assessing. “I’ve never seen nor heard of you. Your dancing lacks formal training,” he added, his voice dripping with condescension, “and you’re not even wearing heels.” His gaze flicked to your flats, though you resisted the urge to look down. “But most intriguingly, Azriel seems to have an interest in you. So, tell me, how did you infiltrate this social circle?”

The sugary sweetness in your tone dissipated, replaced by a cold edge. “Are you implying that I don’t belong here?”

Philip spun you into a light twirl, his grip tightening as you moved. “I’m simply saying it’s curious that the Night Court is now taking in strays.”

You swallowed the sting of his words, your voice icy. “Perhaps I’m just good company.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Philip conceded, his smile curling like smoke. “But good company doesn’t grant one the right to sit at the high lord and lady’s table.”

You matched his calculated turn with your own precision. “I’m not at their table.”

“But you’re living in their home,” he countered smoothly, pulling you closer, his chest brushing against yours. His eyes bore down on you, every inch the predator.

“Nesta and Cassian’s home,” you corrected sharply, trying to create even a semblance of space between you, though his grip remained ironclad.

Philip’s gaze never wavered, his expression one of calculated menace. “And what exactly is your business with Azriel?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, your heart pounding, your composure slipping for just a fraction of a second.

A low growl rumbled from Philip’s chest. “My initial question was how much he was paying for your company tonight.”

The shock of his words hit you like a blow, but you recovered swiftly, though your pulse thundered in your ears. Your voice as sharp as broken glass. “I appreciate that you think I would be worth paying for, but I’m afraid I’m not in that business.”

Philip's purr deepened, an unsettling sound as he spun you again, his grip unyielding. “How much would you charge?” he asked, his words laced with a sickly sweetness that made your skin crawl.

“More than you could afford,” you snapped back, your smile a brittle veneer as he pulled you into him once more, the heat of his body oppressive.

“You may underestimate my affluence,” Philip countered, his voice a dangerous whisper.

“Philip,” you retorted, spinning out and back in, your movements more forceful. “There’s no amount in the world that would make me climb into your bed.”

For a moment, his mask slipped, irritation flashing across his face before he smoothed it away, his predatory smile reasserting itself. “You think highly of yourself.”

You lifted your chin defiantly. “Like I said, I elevate Nesta’s standards.”

“Indeed,” Philip said, his teeth flashing in a grin that was all sharp edges.

The music tapered off, the notes fading into a hum as applause rippled through the ballroom. Yet, Philip’s hold on you didn’t loosen, his eyes locked onto yours in a predatory stare, each of you testing the other’s resolve.

A familiar voice, deep and commanding, cut through the tension. “Philip,” Cassian announced, his presence a sudden, imposing shadow behind you.

Philip’s eyes flicked up above your head, his cocky grin faltering as Cassian loomed behind you, a massive figure even compared to the imposing Autumn Court heir. “Cassian,” Philip greeted, his tone strained but polite.

“I’ve been sent to retrieve this one,” Cassian announced, his heavy, reassuring hand settling on your shoulder like a comforting anchor.

Philip’s gaze returned to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to find a reason to hold on just a bit longer. The rumble of his voice vibrated through you. “Well then, thank you for the dance,” he purred, the murmur originating from deep within his chest where it pressed against yours.

You felt an odd mix of relief and lingering discomfort as Philip finally released you, the phantom sensation of his hands still lingering on your hips and back. You stumbled slightly into Cassian, who steadied you with his hands, broad and firm, gripping your shoulders. “The pleasure was all mine,” Philip finished, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

Cassian turned you from Philip, effectively blocking him from your view with his substantial frame. The sensation of taking your first full breath in what felt like ages was almost overwhelming. Had you even breathed since you set foot on the dance floor? You weren’t sure.

Cassian leaned in, his voice low and reassuring, “Way to hold your own out there.” You could hear the amusement in his tone, a contrast to the dread still buzzing in your veins.

As you navigated through the crowd, which parted effortlessly before Cassian like waves before a ship, you scanned the sea of faces for Nesta, expecting her to be at your destination. But instead, the crowd parted to reveal Azriel, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a shadow of tension easing from his features as his eyes found yours.

Turning to Cassian, who, you now noticed, wore a suit that clashed hilariously with Nesta’s meticulously chosen ensemble, you asked, “Didn’t Nesta need something?”

Cassian chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest. “I have no clue. I’ve been avoiding her all night.” He steered you right up to Azriel, flashing him a triumphant grin. “Mission accomplished.”

Azriel merely rolled his eyes, though his posture relaxed a fraction. “What mission?” you asked, still feeling the residual tremor in your voice.

“The one where I get you away from Philip so Azriel doesn’t rip his spinal cord out and beat him with it,” Cassian replied cheerfully, clapping a hand on your shoulder as if you’d just completed a particularly grueling training session.

Azriel let out an exasperated scoff, his eyes darting to you with a mixture of apology and frustration. “No, I asked you to see if they were almost done dancing.”

Cassian shrugged, holding out his hands in mock innocence. “You asked me to ‘check in’ and ‘intervene’ if I thought things were going poorly. With my expert training,” he puffed his chest out slightly, a theatrical gesture, “I assumed things weren’t going well.”

You felt Cassian’s grip loosen slightly as he craned his neck around. “I gotta go,” he said hurriedly, his eyes wide with a flash of panic. He quickly melted back into the throng of party-goers.

Turning to see why he left so abruptly, you spotted Nesta bearing down on him with a glare that could cut diamonds. Her eyes were narrowed, a storm brewing behind them. It was clear that Cassian had sensed the oncoming tempest and had wisely chosen to make a swift exit.

You shifted your gaze back to Azriel, who was chewing on his lower lip, his leg bouncing restlessly against the wall. His eyes met yours, concern etched into his expression. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.

You nodded, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. “Yeah.”

Azriel’s gaze sharpened, reading the unease in your stance. “Need a break?” he suggested, his tone laced with understanding.

You nodded again, more fervently this time.

“Let’s go get some air,” Azriel said, his voice soothing as he pushed off the wall. His hand found its way to your lower back, guiding you gently but firmly. The warmth of his touch was a stark contrast to the lingering chill left by Philip, and though you flinched slightly at first, you allowed Azriel’s hand to remain there.

He steered you through the crowd, his path straight and purposeful. The swirl of colors and the murmur of conversations blurred around you as you focused on the cool promise of the outdoors. Azriel navigated through the sea of fae with ease, his hand never leaving your back.

Reaching a set of glass balcony doors, he pushed one open, and the rush of cool air hit you like a soothing balm. The tension that had coiled around you inside the ballroom began to unravel. You stepped out onto the balcony, the night air crisp and refreshing against your heated skin. The moonlight bathed the balcony in a soft glow, casting long shadows that danced gently with the breeze and as you took a slow breath out, the tendrils of mist curled out into the night.

To my readers, I promise I will get consistent with my 12:00 posting again. Life has just thrown a few curveballs my way: @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @rhysandorian @loglady00 @caninne

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johnwickb1tsch · 6 months ago

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Vino Veritas - Part III

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

III. Just what the world needs, Another Fucking Sunset Wedding

It’s almost sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Frank had been waiting for you to catch the shuttle to the wedding venue, dallying in the lobby pretending to look at an atrocious modern art print while keeping one eye on the hallway.

“You look nice,” he grumbles, taking in your white A-line sundress printed with big red roses.

“Thanks,” you say, admiring his navy blue suit unabashedly, since he brought it up first. “You look very handsome.”

This makes him stand up a little straighter, clearly not sure how to take the compliment, but you dare to think, he liked it.

When the shuttle drops you off at the base of the vineyard you look up the steep hill planted with curling grape vines in their nice neat rows with a sense of dread.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I am not wearing the right shoes for this.”

He looks down at your platform heels. “It said in the itinerary you’d have to walk up a hill.”

“Ok, but what was I supposed to wear? Hiking boots? The unfair standards of women’s dress clothes don’t allow for that.”

He holds out a hand, albeit begrudgingly. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

“I swear, these shoes are actually usually the sensible option.”

“Sure they are. Wearing anything that elevates your feet four inches off the ground is a sensible option.”

You sigh, and take his hand, trying to ignore the thrill running through your bones as you feel the strength in his fingers and his arm, as he helps propel you up the incline.

“I can’t believe they don’t have…stairs, or something? Did the old people have to do this?”

“Presumably not.”

“Then what the fuck?”

“Quite.”

Men’s dress shoes aren’t exactly made for rough terrain either, and at one point you both almost slip, clutching each other in a bid not to tumble back down the hill. It’s…nice, you have to admit, to be held close by this man.

He looks at you with wide eyes, for a moment for all the world appearing as though he’s drowning, before that thunderous frown appears. “Fuck this.”

You yip with surprise as he sweeps you up into his arms, and marches determinedly the rest of the way up the hill. Before you can even think about taking it as a romantic gesture, he practically drops you back to your feet at the top, releasing you as though you’d burned him.

You sit together in the back, as usual, though Frank very pointedly crosses his arms and is careful to keep a respectable amount of distance between you.

That shouldn’t make you feel sad, but it does.

The excruciatingly drawn-out bullshit Reception

“I used to like this song,” you muse, watching the dancers on the floor with an odd mixture of wistfulness and distaste. Keith dips his new bride, and a mean little part of you really wishes he would drop her.

“Do you…want to dance?”

Frank could have knocked you over with a feather, after how he’d behaved earlier. It definitely colors your answer, the knee-jerk impulse to push him away too.

“I said I used to like it.”

“Fine.”

Then, of course, you feel bad. And maybe you feel…a sliver of hope, however stupid.

“Why, do you want to dance?”

“Of course I don’t want to dance. It’s moronic and ridiculous. No one wants to fucking dance.” There is more venom in this statement, than perhaps the situation calls for.

After a moment, a bit softer and with a hint of apology, he qualifies, “I just thought it might take your mind off things.”

If you looked miserable, it’s ironic that for once, Keith was not the cause of it.

Perhaps this should send you running in the opposite direction too.

“Do you want to take a walk?” you ask instead.

He looks pointedly down at your questionable footwear, but you point at the basket behind you bearing what are professed by a whimsically written sign: Walking Shoes. They’re some kind of slide on deal that will do in a pinch. Honestly you’re willing to go bare foot, if it gets you out of that tent.

The meandering and pointless Walk

“You know, I was actually diagnosed with PTSD after the whole Keith thing?”

Frank snorts at that, the farthest reaction from sympathy he can manage. “Rich people’s PTSD.”

“I’m not rich.”

“Fine. Privileged.”

That’s probably true. Goddammit.

“Well…am I not allowed to have problems?”

“Sure, just no one wants to hear about them. Anyone who doesn’t have to worry about food, housing, or getting shot by the police should just keep it to themselves.”

“That’s not very healthy.”

He shrugs. “It’s not just you. No one should care about my problems either.”

“What if I care?”

He snorts. “Then I will feel even sorrier for you than I already do.”

“Ok, fine. Maybe not me specifically. But what if…say, you find someone else you actually like. Isn’t it ok to talk about your problems with friends?”

“Isn’t that a terrible thing to do to someone you like? Making friends or a significant other listen to your problems for free, when you should be paying a shrink for it?”

“It’s just a thing people do who are close to each other. They talk.”

“People who aren’t close too, apparently.” He says all this with a surprising amount of cheer in his tone, either enjoying himself, or the walk, or the view…or maybe even your company.

He changes the subject as you round a bend. “So, are you glad you came to this thing? You made your show of strength, you’ve got your closure now that the knot is tied and they’re legally bound to be miserable together, and you’ve fled the scene with his half-brother, whom he despises, which the family surely will gossip about. You could almost chalk it as a win, if you squint just right.”

You huff, breathing a little heavy as you walk up a hill on the ridge the path follows. It truly is beautiful in the backcountry of the vineyard, rolling mountains planted with nice neat rows of green vines.

He makes a good point, but strangely…you don’t feel satisfied. “I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not sure how I feel,” you admit, pausing to incline your head up at him. He pauses too, looking down that straight nose at you, and he is standing very close. You fancy you sense him tense, as though about to take some great leap, and he looks at your mouth with something like consternation, when a god-awful yowling roar travels down the path at you.

You both turn to see a very big, very unhappy cat displaying its impressively large and sharp canines at you.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I think it’s a mountain lion.”

“What the fuck do we do?”

“I don’t know. We’re too far away, no one will hear us scream.”

“Is it a bobcat?”

“It’s not a fucking bobcat. Look at the tail.”

“You should run. It’s going to eat me anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m smaller and slower.”

“I wouldn’t presume about the last part.”

It roars again, and you clutch at his arm.

Suddenly Frank charges the thing, making that god-awful hissing sound from earlier with his finger in his ear. They both sound like demons from hell, and with shock you watch as the predator backs away.

“Now, we run,” says Frank, grabbing your hand and booking it down the hill.

You run what feels like a long way. Your legs are burning, and the stupid little slide-ons are not made for athletic activity. And the thing about running downhill is…sometimes gravity gets the best of you. Like now, when you trip over a rock, and take Frank with you. Suddenly you are both tumbling down a steep grassy incline, locked together in a death roll.

“Fuck!”

When at last you come to a stop you are utterly stunned. “Y/n?”

You just lie there, unable to move.

“Y/n?”

Are you even alive?

Suddenly, Frank grabs your arm, hauling you around. “Ah!”

He looks…so worried, that if he hadn’t wrenched your back, you would have been touched.

“I’m fine! Jesus!”

“Ok. Sorry.”

You lie there for another moment looking up at him. He has grass in his hair; it’s endearing somehow, seeing this put-together grouch of a man just a little undone.

“You saved me,” you tease, sitting up beside him.

“I saved us.”

“Yeah right. It would have eaten me anyway. Why’d you save me?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Just trying to spare myself the guilt.”

He reaches up to pluck grass out of your hair. His light touch gives you a thrill down your spine. Again, you are aware that you are very close, and his dark eyes have gone wide again, that slightly panicked look he gets. His gaze flicks to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and you are completely taken by surprise when he grabs the back of your head and pulls you swiftly into a hard kiss.

He retreats from it just as quickly, and now he does look like he’s seen a ghost. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“I—”

Before you can say anything he’s grabbed you again, and this kiss is less forceful, though maybe no less desperate. You’re able to reach up to cup his cheeks before he shoves you away again, this time hard enough that you topple back in the grass.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” he pants again, looking for all the world like a horse that would like to bolt. “I don’t—it’s been a long time. Heat of the moment. Near death experience. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“How long?” you ask, incredulous. Because, this man is so…so. Fucking. Good looking. How has he not been with anyone?

He scowls at the grass. “I don’t think I’ve felt real pleasure since 2006.”

This admission makes your eyes go wide. You sincerely hope he’s exaggerating, but then again, the way he behaves towards people…maybe he’s not.

“It’s just…” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “If it all sucks, then fuck it, but if it doesn’t? Then there’s so much pressure.”

A part of you wants to snark at him. Well well well, welcome to the human race at last. But another part of you…another part of you just wants to kiss him senseless and fuck him silly, and make him feel all the things you’ve both been missing out on because he’s been such a goddamned coward this whole time and you’re not much better.

Maybe he reads the pity on your face, because he feels the need to defend, “Not that I haven’t been with anyone. Just…”

“You weren’t that into it?”

He looks away, glaring at the world again. “Yeah.”

“It’s been a while for me too,” you admit.

“Please don’t say it was Keith,” he snarks. “I’ll kill myself.”

You laugh. “No, your brother was incredibly, monumentally selfish in bed. I literally could have had better sex with a lamppost.”

He looks at you sideways. “That really shouldn’t make me as happy as it does.”

Your lips twist as you try not to smile. Frank, however, is back to frowning at the vineyards again. “We can’t have sex right now. I don’t have any protection. It would be irresponsible.”

You’re a little amused, that his brain has leapt immediately to sex, while you are sitting in the dry grass together. Apparently just kissing was not enough—or maybe he’s been thinking about it for a while. You’d be a liar, if you said you haven’t.

“What if I said you’re in luck?”

“I would say that’s highly improbable.”

You feel bold enough to cup his cheek, bringing his attention back to you. It doesn’t take much persuading this time, when you press your lips to his. He kisses you back, his fingers digging into your ribcage, and you’re not really sure who’s more desperate to feel alive after defying death at the claws of a tiger or whatever the fuck that thing had been.

“That’s not helping,” he pants when you part.

“Why? Are you actually into it?”

He pulls you closer with hands on your waist. “Pretty into it,” he admits begrudgingly. You smile against his mouth, suddenly feeling electrified from head to toe. The colors of the world around you seem brighter, somehow. You take him by surprise when suddenly you straddle his waist, perching on his legs and pushing him back down into the grass, your pretty skirts spread around you.

“What—”

You unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, freeing him to the desert air. “Oh…” When you bend over to lick his tip and take him into your mouth you get an even more emphatic, “Oh…”

“What about now?” you ask him as you withdraw with a pop.

He blinks, for the first time since you’ve met, speechless. At least, for a few long moments.

“I think I’d like to be inside you.”

“How’s your health?”

“Fair to middling, for a man my age.” You give him a look, and damn if he doesn’t soften for you, even if just for a fleeting second. “Clean,” he answers quietly. “You?”

“Clean. And fully armed with IUD.”

He blinks. “Like they use to blow up humvees in the Middle East?”

You laugh, throwing your head back, your curls bouncing around your shoulders. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time. “Like, an intrauterine-device?”

“That definitely makes more sense.”

“Well?”

You watch as he licks his fingers, reaching under your dress to push your panties aside and find your center. The saliva is appreciated but not necessary. You are drenched, and his big fingers rubbing your clit feel like magic. “Is all that for me?” He sounds genuinely surprised, like this was a gift from the universe he did not expect to receive. Usually it’s more inclined to deliver a kick to the balls.

“Who else would it be for? The lynx?” He snorts, and in a softer tone you confess, “I have been a wet little mess for you since…the moment we started arguing in the airport.” He blinks at this, dumbstruck for a moment, before kissing you with an edge of desperation you both feel keenly in your bones.

He guides you onto him with his big hands on your buttocks. That feels like magic too, his thick tip at your entrance sinking in. It’s your turn to say, “Oh,” with your head thrown back, his big cock sliding deeper and deeper inside you, until he’s filled you to the hilt. For a moment you just sit like that together, joined, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It’s wonderful.

You imagine how ridiculous you must look, to an outsider looking in. Two people tangled in the dirt, grass in your hair, dust all over your nice clothes. You giggle a little to yourself.

“Something funny?”

“Just…do you ever think about how silly humans look, doing the things we do?”

“All the time.”

You laugh joyously, but you feel him withdrawing from you, that subtle tension returned in his limbs. You realize he thinks you’re making fun of him. It’s like this man expects he’ll have to defend himself from the world at any given moment. Then, from what he’s told you about his life, you guess he has. You don’t let him get too far, pulling him closer. “But fuck it feels glorious. I don’t care. Fuck me, Frank. I need you.”

You feel him relax, and maybe even surrender. He moves for you, and you with him, his thumb on your button and his mouth on your neck as you ride him out…it’s the fastest you’ve ever orgasmed, with another person involved, that shining pleasure ambushing you in the cradle of your hips and spreading outwards. It’s almost embarrassing, except he’s right behind you, holding you almost desperately with arms locked around your waist, his face buried in the bend of your neck. Neither of you are quiet about it, your yells echoing across the empty hills.

“Oh my god…” you pant, resting your forehead against his.

“Can’t say…I believe much in god,” he informs you, out of breath.

“Me neither,” you admit. “But that was fucking fantastic.”

“Yeah. That was pretty damn good.” He sounds so surprised about it.

He kisses you, more softly this time. There is a long moment of eye contact between you; it is vulnerable, and electric, and raw. He is the first to look away, almost flinchingly. Then he focuses on the business of disentangling yourselves.

“I’m afraid we’re about to make a huge mess.”

“You don’t have a handkerchief?”

“What am I, a nineteenth century dandy?”

“Okay, relax, Romeo. I’ve got it.”

You rather cleverly, if you don’t say so yourself, use the petticoat of your dress to avoid staining his trousers as you uncouple, in a way that won’t leave you an embarrassing mess when you return to the tent either.

“I like that dress even more now,” he quips, looking at you with something almost akin to tenderness as you right yourselves. He reaches up to pull another sprig of straw out of your hair with a smirk.

“Frank…” You’re not really sure what you want to say. There’s a pent up ball of something in your chest, and it kind of actually hurts, and you’re not sure you like it at all.

“No,” he answers resolutely, but he cranes his neck down to kiss you anyway. “Want to go back to my room?”

“Yes.”

TBC...

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ahhhhh I didn't have the courage to make it as awkward as the movie 🤣🤣🤣 but I feel like I need to make a note here bc i'm always writing wildly irresponsible sex practices: always use protection with a new partner. It's just a good idea. And ALWAYS use some kind of birth control, or you WILL get pregnant. mother nature is a bitch.

#destination wedding #frank x you #frank reeves x you #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #destination wedding frank x you #frank x y/n #frank x reader #keanu reeves x reader #vino veritas destination wedding fic

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honkytonk-hangman · 2 years ago

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What You Want

Summary: Rooster is aware that despite working together for a little over six months now, he doesn't really know you all that well. One late night walk to your car later, he thinks he'd like that to change.

Notes: just a little drabble for an idea i've been having for a while!!! let me know if you'd be interested in more! <3

Masterlist

“Wait! Hold the door!” a voice calls out, making Rooster jump, but he still manages to throw his arm out just in time, catching the elevator doors before they close. You come jogging into sight then, panting a little, your duffle bag hanging precariously from your shoulder as you hurry to reach him.

You thank him as you step inside, but do a small double-take when you realise that you recognise him. Rooster waves off your thanks, and shifts to one side so that he isn’t taking up so much space.

“I didn’t see you in there,” he says, jerking his thumb in the direction of the on-base gym. Granted, he knows the place was pretty damn big, and that there was a section reserved for women if they felt more comfortable there, but he’d really thought he’d be all alone at this time of night.

You look at him blankly for a second, before your eyes seem to travel over his attire, and realisation registers on your face.

“Oh! Ha, I didn’t see you either…” you tell him, just as the elevator at last closes its doors and begins its descent. “I don’t usually come so late,” you add after a moment, having hiked your bag higher on your shoulder. Rooster nods, but looks away from you as you seem to start nervously adjusting your workout shorts, too, pulling them lower from where they’ve clearly ridden up slightly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he hears himself ask, keeping his eyes on the elevator panel ahead of him as it slowly counts down the floors. You’re quiet for a few seconds before humming softly and he can’t help but look back over at you at the almost sad ring in your voice.

“Something like that,” you reply with a small shrug, looking at your shoes.

“Everything alright?” he prods a little, sure now that you sounded down, but immediately feeling a little out of place for asking.

Sure, you’d been working together now for almost six months, and sure he’d met you once or twice before that, but if he’s honest, Rooster didn’t really know you that well outside of what he knows you can do in the sky. Up in the air he wouldn’t hesitate to trust you with his life, but on the ground, he wouldn’t even know what beer you drank at the hard Deck.

If you drank beer, at all, for that matter.

You shift uncomfortably for a moment, eyes dancing between his face and the floor before you give another little shrug and look away from him entirely, staring at metal doors ahead of you.

“I uh, told my boyfriend about being stationed here permanently now,” you begin, pausing to bite at your lip like you weren’t sure whether or not to keep going. There had been some back and forth in recent months over where Dagger squad would be stationed, but at last a few days ago the decision had been made to keep the squad on North Island.

“He broke up with me,” you finish, swallowing nervously, but shooting him a tight smile that Rooster does his best to return.

“I’m sorry…” he says, unsure if he should say more, or if it would even be welcomed. He hadn’t even known until just now that you actually had a boyfriend, but he finds that he likes that you’re choosing to confide in him. You shrug for a third time and shake your head.

“I don’t know. Things weren’t awful or anything, but they weren’t exactly great, either…” you chew on your lip again and scrunch up your nose briefly. “He never really liked me being away much.”

Rooster snorts at that.

“S’kinda part of the job description,” he says, receiving a wry smile from you.

“I know.”

Quiet pervades for a while until the elevator comes to a stop at last, and Rooster gestures for you to go ahead of him. You step out, but pause, waiting for him to join you again before you begin walking, and Rooster finds he likes that as well.

“Still, I’m sorry,” he offers sincerely, looking over at you as you let out a soft sigh. He’s almost embarrassed when you turn back to find him already looking at you, but you only smile sweetly.

“Thanks.” You say, beginning to pull a jangling set of keys out of your duffle bag. Rooster realises then that you must have driven here, and weren’t currently living on base, as he’d just assumed you were.

“Where are you parked?” he asks, gesturing to your keys when you look up at him.

“Oh, not too far, just over near the Services building,” you tell him, causing his brows to knit together. It wasn’t exactly far, but it wasn’t really near, either.

“I’ll walk you.” he says, making the decision out loud. You look back at him in what looks like surprise, already starting to shake your head.

“Oh, you don’t have to–”

“–I’d feel a lot better if I did,” he cuts you off, but speaks truthfully, and he’s glad when you don’t argue further, simply nodding as he now starts following your lead.

You both remain in comfortable quiet while you walk, and Rooster consciously takes note of how dark this particular path through the base really was, feeling glad that you’d let him walk you back, but at the same time unable to stop from overthinking his insistence on the matter.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he blurts all of a sudden, causing you to blink up at him blankly for a moment. “I didn’t really give you much of a choice about walking with you,” he explains, not unaware of why a woman might actually feel safer going alone than with a man she barely knew. You jerk then, as realisation floods your features, but let out a chuckle as you shake your head at him.

“No, no, it’s really okay!” you assure him. Rooster lets out a relieved breath. “I appreciate not having to walk by myself. I know I’m far safer on base than if I wasn’t, but you know…” you tell him, trailing off. “I’m sorry if you didn’t actually want to, but that’s your fault,” you add, chortling playfully. Rooster laughs too, your words catching him slightly off-guard, your joke and general cheek entirely unexpected to him.

“It’s a good thing I did want to, in that case,” he says, laughter still in his voice. You look up at him sweetly, and he notices for the first time how your eyes crinkle slightly in the corners when you smile.

“I don’t get why people– Mostly men– offer things like that if they don’t actually want to do them… Why offer to pay for dinner if you’re really actually wanting me to insist otherwise, you know?” you roll your eyes and wave a hand, your voice light but he can sense the real underlying annoyance.

“I didn’t realise that was a thing men actually did…” he admits curiously, and watches as you give an even heavier roll of your eyes.

“Well, good. That means you’ve never done it,” you say, shooting him a wry grin. “My boyfriend… ex-boyfriend… He used to do it a lot at the start of our relationship. He’d always end up telling me later how he hadn’t expected me to accept whatever it was. I guess he learnt to stop after a while.”

Rooster stares down at you slack jawed and momentarily speechless, taken completely aback that your ex would admit to such a thing, but that he’d not want to do things sincerely for you in the first place.

“... And that wasn’t a red flag?” he finds his voice enough to ask you, not bothering to hide the disapproval in his voice. You look away, but hum.

“I guess it should have been,” you say softly, pursing your lips as you seem to think for a moment.

“When I was younger I found it really hard to accept people doing things for me. If a man offered to pay for dinner, I’d feel so guilty that I’d insist he didn’t, and we’d end up splitting the bill instead. I’d go home feeling so disappointed, even though it was my fault…” you tell him, shaking your head at your own past actions. “A couple years ago, I started trying to be more honest with myself about what I wanted when it came to dating, and men… not just what I was willing to accept.”

Rooster nods as you speak, finding himself genuinely interested in your outlook on these things, wanting to hear more about them. You take his silent agreement as permission to go on.

“If flowers, or paying for dinner, or whatever, if it was something that I valued, made me feel valued, I shouldn't feel guilty about that,” you continue, sparing an almost nervous glance up at him, but Rooster is still nodding, agreeing with you completely.

“Good,” he tells you firmly. “And like you said; if they didn’t really want to, that’s their problem,” he states matter-of-factly, feeling an undue sense of pride when you laugh.

“Exactly!” you giggle a little more before eventually you both sober.

You were at the Services building now, the car park laid out in front of you, only a handful of vehicles still scattered around the lot.

“I guess that’s something I’m going to have to put into practise again at some point…” you think aloud, and Rooster only realises that he’s started to frown slightly when you look back at him.

“I guess it is…” he replies, unsure of why he suddenly feels so bothered at the thought of you dating someone like your ex again.

“Don’t ever accept anything less than what you want,” he feels the need to stress himself. “If he’s worth your time, he won’t accept giving you anything else.”

You smile at him softly, almost looking shy for a moment, before you finally come to a stop by your car. Rooster watches quietly as you toss your bag on the backseat.

“Thank you for walking me,” you say once you’ve turned back to him.

“Thank you for letting me,” he replies, stepping closer when you open your door to climb in, closing it for you once he can see that you’ve settled inside. You give him another soft smile as you roll your window down to say goodbye.

“See you on Monday, Rooster.”

“Drive safe.”

#rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic

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northwestterritory · 7 months ago

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Exploring the Unbeatable Comfort and Style of Waterproof Boots

In the world of footwear, few items offer the versatility, durability, and style that waterproof boots bring to the table. Whether you're traversing rugged terrain, braving the elements on a rainy day, or simply seeking a fashion statement that combines functionality with flair, waterproof boots stand out as a timeless and indispensable wardrobe staple. In this comprehensive guide, we delve into the allure of waterproof boots, exploring their construction, benefits, and why they're a must-have for every discerning individual's collection.

The Evolution of Waterproof Boots

Waterproof boots have come a long way from their humble beginnings. Traditionally associated with outdoor adventurers and workers in harsh environments, these boots have undergone a remarkable evolution in both design and materials. Initially crafted from heavy-duty leather and rubber, modern waterproof boots now incorporate cutting-edge technologies and innovative materials to deliver unparalleled performance without compromising on style.

Unparalleled Protection Against the Elements

One of the primary reasons why waterproof boots have remained a perennial favorite is their ability to provide unbeatable protection against inclement weather conditions. Whether it's rain, snow, sleet, or mud, these boots serve as a reliable barrier, keeping your feet dry and comfortable regardless of the outdoor conditions. The waterproof membrane integrated into their design prevents water from seeping in while allowing moisture to escape, ensuring that your feet stay dry and odor-free throughout the day.

Versatility Redefined: Leather Walking Boots

While waterproof boots excel in outdoor settings, they are equally at home in urban environments. Leather walking boots, a popular variant of waterproof footwear, offer a perfect blend of style and functionality. Crafted from premium quality leather, these boots exude sophistication while providing the same level of protection and comfort as their rugged counterparts. Whether you're strolling through city streets or exploring the countryside, leather walking boots elevate your ensemble while offering unmatched durability and support.

Men's Waterproof Walking Boots: Where Form Meets Function

For men who demand performance without compromising on style, waterproof walking boots are an indispensable addition to their wardrobe. Engineered to withstand the rigors of outdoor adventures, these boots boast a rugged construction coupled with sleek designs that cater to the modern man's discerning taste. Whether you're embarking on a hiking expedition, tackling rugged trails, or simply running errands around town, men's waterproof walking boots provide the perfect balance of form and function, ensuring that you step out in style while staying protected from the elements.

Key Features to Look For

When shopping for waterproof boots, certain features can make all the difference in terms of comfort, performance, and durability. Look for boots with:

Waterproof Membrane: A high-quality waterproof membrane such as Gore-Tex® or eVent® ensures maximum protection against water while allowing your feet to breathe.

Durable Construction: Opt for boots crafted from premium materials such as full-grain leather or synthetic fabrics for enhanced durability and longevity.

Traction: A sturdy outsole with aggressive tread patterns provides superior traction on a variety of surfaces, preventing slips and falls even in challenging terrain.

Comfortable Insole: A cushioned insole with arch support offers comfort during extended wear, reducing fatigue and preventing foot pain.

Insulation: For cold weather conditions, choose boots with insulation to keep your feet warm and cozy in low temperatures.

Styling Tips

Waterproof boots are not only functional but also incredibly versatile in terms of styling. Here are some tips to incorporate them into your everyday wardrobe:

Casual Chic: Pair your waterproof boots with jeans, a flannel shirt, and a quilted jacket for a laid-back yet stylish ensemble perfect for weekend outings.

Urban Edge: Elevate your street style by teaming your leather walking boots with slim-fit chinos, a graphic tee, and a denim jacket for an effortlessly cool look.

Outdoor Adventures: For outdoor excursions, layer up with performance gear such as hiking pants, a moisture-wicking base layer, and a waterproof jacket to complement your men's waterproof walking boots.

Conclusion

In conclusion, waterproof boots epitomize the perfect fusion of style, functionality, and durability. Whether you're navigating rugged trails, braving the elements in urban jungles, or simply seeking footwear that effortlessly combines form and function, waterproof boots are an indispensable wardrobe essential. With their unparalleled protection, versatility, and timeless appeal, these boots continue to reign supreme as a must-have for individuals who refuse to compromise on comfort or style. Invest in a pair of waterproof boots today and step into a world where comfort meets uncompromising performance with every stride.

#Mens Waterproof walking Boots #Leather walking Boots #Mens Leather walking Boots #Dog Walk Shoes #Mens Hiking & Walking Boots #Womens Hiking & Walking Boots #Mens Hiking & Walking Shoes #Womens Hiking & Walking Shoes

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 3 months ago

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A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 12

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Grumbling, I get out of bed at 6:30am, after shutting off my alarm. I have a brisk shower to wake myself up, get dressed in leggings, a sports bra and an old oversized hoodie, and have a quick breakfast; water and an over-ripe banana. I tie up the most comfortable running shoes I have, put my dollar store wired earphones in, turn on a lively pop playlist and jog down the stairs, instead of waiting for the elevator.

Part of being realistic, I decided, is accepting that my loathing of gyms and exercise has left me out of shape and is a likely main contributor as to why my exes have all ended up in bed with other women. I accept that unless I get in shape, I’ll never be able to attract and satisfy anyone long-term. I also assume that it’s part of why I can’t secure any auditions, not that I’m allowing myself to consider that career path anymore.

Knowing I can’t afford to splurge on a gym membership until I get a more sustainable income I opt to just run. My mind keeps running in time with my legs (or maybe even faster). I try to remember when I first became so inactive. As a child and teenager I was always outside moving around, whether it was tending to or riding my horse, or hiking, I was always doing something active. I figure it was probably London that did it. I’d sold my horse to pay for the plane tickets and to help us get set up with an apartment. That had left me depressed for a while, in truth I still miss that beautiful snow-white mare even now. Then, there hadn’t been many opportunities to hike and none to ride in London, so I entered a state of stasis. I walked when and where I could, but the gloomy weather made even that difficult.

Then after the shit hit the fan the first time and I moved home, I was so depressed I barely left my parent’s house for months. That resulted in evenmore stasis, until they forced me to get a job. My dad had a friend that owned a bar and he'd managed to talk my way into a job there working the quieter weeknights. That had gotten me back on my feet, but it wasn’t quite the activity I was used to. Ten months later I moved to New York with a Wednesday regular that talked his way into my pants and subsequently my heart.

A fresh start, so I thought, but it ended up being evenmore stasis. New York wasn’t much different to London; a bustling city with no hiking trails or decent outdoor spaces aside from Central Park. By the time that relationship faced an all too familiar demise I was left well and truly broken. Any hobbies I had were long forgotten. Though, I did have the pipe dream that Tyler had helped sprout after taking me to numerous broadway shows. So, not wanting to go back home to my parents again, I clung to that, even after countless rejections.

Now, left with nothing but regrets and no clear path forward, I know I’m a hopeless mess. So, I do the only thing I can think of: run.

When I finally collapse on the couch, massaging my aching muscles, after another long closing shift, I force myself to continue browsing the local job boards. But as I’m scrolling, my phone rings and I accidentally answer too quickly before I can process who it is. But I recognise the deep, Texan accent immediately. “Hey Darlin’, you ok? I’ve left you like a hundred messages. I was about to book a flight to New York to do a wellness check,” he says with a dry chuckle.

Trying to act indifferent and uninterested – more to fool myself than him – I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “I’m fine. Just busy.” As I twist around on the couch trying to stretch out my tense muscles my eyes land on the box that I still haven’t sent back. I sigh. “Jensen, listen…”

His tone is more somber when he speaks again, cutting me off, “You changed your mind about us? I know it’s a lot, but I warned you that they would likely come out eventually. I tried to get my agent to get ahead of it, but the paparazzi are relentless. I’m so sorry. I get it if-”

I sit up straighter, paying more attention. I cut him off, “Wait! What are you talking about?”

“The photos from the cafe…the day we met. You didn’t know? Wait, but if that’s not why you’ve been avoiding me then what’s going on?”

Still in shock, I search his name on my laptop. My jaw drops along with my phone as the photos from that day pop up.

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me. I know it’s a lot, but please…I’m right here.”

I pick my phone back off my lap and bring it back up to my ear. In that moment I realise I have the perfect excuse, he’s giving me an out. I know this won’t go away and it could leave a blemish on both of our reputations, but if I break it off now it will just be a single meeting in a coffee shop. The whole thing would fade eventually, when they realise it’s nothing the paparazzi will move onto the piece of celeb gossip as would Jensen to the next female.

I put on my best facade and lean on my acting skills, despite promising I’d never use them on him. But again, this will be the last time I’ll ever speak to him, so what’s the harm. “I’m sorry, Jens, it’s just…it’s all too much. You might be used to this, but for me…this could be my career. I’ll never get a role without being labeled as sleeping my way into the business. Not to mention the hate from your fans. I just…I can’t.” He sighs and I could swear I heard him let out a sniffle as if he’s crying and my heart breaks. I almost take it all back, but I tell myself this is for the best. He’ll be better off without me; it never would’ve worked anyway.

“I understand…” he says before going silent as if hiding his sniffles. After a few minutes he says, “I’m so sorry, Darlin’. You really are special, I did everything I could. I know it’s a big risk for you…”

“It was a risk for you too. But if we end it here no one has to know. I was just your barista…They’ll forget and so will you. It will be better this way.” I wipe away a tear as I hang up. I know I wouldn’t be able to stay strong if he tried to fight for me or comfort me, or take anymore blame, so I had to break free. With tears now streaming down my face I finally allow myself to read through all the messages he’d left over the past 48 hours. They start out normal and light hearted, wishing a good day and good night but they quickly take a serious turn. Since about 9am every message is a form of an apology or a beg for me to call him.

I then notice a message from Stella from the same time. Hers has a very different tone. There’s still the begs for me to call her, but her messages are all layered with excitement about how cute me and Jensen look together and how she can’t wait to meet him at the wedding. I want nothing more than to call her and let her tell me how much of an idiot I am and to let her convince me to call him back, apologise and work it out. But I don’t. I promised I wouldn’t be a distraction; wedding conversations only. As Nick pointed out, she has enough on her plate right now. She doesn’t need to fix my messes too. I’m an adult, it’s time to grow up.

As I stare at the photo the tears fall heavier. Feeling utterly heartbroken, and pathetic for feeling this way after such a short time I need comfort. I know it’s so much more than just the issue with Jensen; it’s Nick’s criticism, it’s not being able to call my best friend, it’s how little I’ve achieved so far, it’s the loneliness of my apartment, it’s the memories, it’s everything. Feeling the worst I’ve felt in years I do what may seem like the most childish thing – because I feel like a failed adult – and call my mother.

“Hi Mom,” I say through tears.

And like a true mother, she instantly knows something’s wrong. “Hey Sweetie, you want to talk about it?”

“Can I come home?”

“Oh, Sweetie. You know you’re always welcome to come home, but why don’t we talk about this first?”

“I’m a mess, and I’m so alone and I don’t know what to do. My life is going nowhere. I’m a failure.”

“You feel like…”

“What?”

“You feel like all those things. But in reality you’re far from any of that.”

“No, it’s true. I’m all alone. My best friend’s fiance doesn’t want me hanging around them anymore because I’m an unwelcome distraction. My job is going nowhere and I barely get paid enough to pay my bills, I’ve been turned down from every audition I’ve done all year, I flunked most of my classes…I got my picture all over the internet with a guy I like and then I pushed him away…I’m such a failure. And I miss Snowball…and you and dad. I need a hug.”

“Oh, Honey…you’re still so young, it will all work out. You’ve had a bad run is all. But you truly have done so much. You’ve lived overseas, you’re living all alone in New York and you’re paying your bills, you’re eating, you’re working and you’re helping plan a wedding. You really have done so much. You’re the furthest thing from a failure. Your father and I are so proud of you. As for Snowball, your father still goes down and tends for and exercises her a few days a week. He wouldn’t let that horse go so easy, she’s over on Uncle Liam’s ranch. He just didn’t want you to know because he wanted to see you work for what you wanted and maybe pay a little price…learn a lesson. You know how he is…”

“Snowy’s ok?”

“I’ll get him to send you some photos next time he visits the ranch. So, tell me about these photos and this boy? They’re not nudes are they?”

“No, God, no. I would never! He’s famous and came into Mamma Jo’s. I was serving him and the paparazzi took a photo of us. But since then we became close, talking almost daily. But, I’m such a mess, how could I date again? He’ll probably just cheat on me anyway…I’m not good enough for long-term relationships.”

“Those boys still in your head? Not all men will be like that, and again, that wasn’t your fault.”

“It happened twice, with two different guys…how could I possibly believe it wasn’t because of me?”

“Because it just wasn’t. They didn’t know the gem they pushed away. You didn’t deserve what they did, but they never deserved you. But you and Trent were so young, not that I’m defending him, and then I never liked that Tyler kid. For better or worse, you know the signs now. Hindsight is 20/20, my dear. So, if you like this new guy, famous or not, just watch for the red flags you missed last time. If he doesn’t love you like you deserve, that’s his loss. Don’t settle for less than you deserve, but don’t shut yourself off either,” she says, and then as if trying to lighten the mood and make me laugh she adds, “Your father and I would like grandchildren one day. But only if you have them with a man who treats you and them right.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I say, tears finally easing off.

“That’s what I’m here for, Dear. No matter how old you get or how much you grow, you’ll always be my little girl. And no matter how lonely you feel, you’re never alone. And as much as we would love to see you, I know your life is where you are, right now. Don’t come home just yet. When the time is right we’ll even book your flights, but right now you need to stay where you are.”

“Ok…I’ll stay…”

“You’ll get through this, Sweetie. You always do. But until you do, I’m only ever a phone call away.”

“I know…Thanks, Mom. By the way, Mom, this guy…He’s from Texas…”

“That’s great, Dear, but I care much more about how he treats you.”

“I know…He treats me right, I think I hurt him more than he hurt me tonight. I need to call him back and explain.”

“Alright, Sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you, Mom. Good night.”

I hang up and go to the kitchen to clean my face. If I’m going to attempt to fix things with Jensen, I need to compose myself. Though, I wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t pick up. After filling a glass with water I take it back to the couch, but before I sit down you stare at the box in the corner by the door. Still feeling unsure, despite my mother’s encouragement, and not knowing what I could even say to Jensen to begin to explain myself, I opt to start with a promise I made days ago instead. I bring the box back to the couch, rip off the tape and pull out the envelope. I start to read through the paperwork, determined to finally sign it.

I get through about a page and a half before the technical, legal jargon starts to jumble together. I find it harder to focus or keep my eyes open. I lie down to get into a more comfortable reading position, but it doesn’t take long for my eyes to droop closed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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battleangel · 17 days ago

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THE PLANET WILL DIE BY 2100!

THE PLANET IS DYING!

THE EARTH WILL DIE IN 100 YEARS!

100+ STUDIES PREDICT EARTH WILL BE UNINHABITABLE BY 2100!

Extreme weather never seen before — droughts, heat waves, back to back fire warnings than freeze warnings, 40+ degree temperature changes in one day, earthquakes & tornadoes in areas that never previously had them — signal the literal destruction of planet earth.

The sky is ACTUALLY falling!

•Do not have any children.

•Do not buy a house — live in a 1 bedroom apartment.

•Stop using air conditioning — use electric ceiling or box fan & open window.

•Keep thermostat for heat between 62 degrees & 68 degrees during winter.

•Work remotely if you can — W-2, contract, temp, part-time, freelance, fractional, start your own business — avoid working on-site & in an office that would require a daily commute.

•Only drive when absolutely necessary — walk, take the bus or stay home — should only be purchasing gas for car a few times a year at most.

•Do NOT buy an electric vehicle or hybrid vehicle & do not use air taxis. •Cobalt is only available in Congo & is causing a genocide as local warlords kill each other & local civilians over the mineral that Apple, Tesla, Google, Samsung, etc. pays outrageous amounts for — men, women & children work in the Congolese mines for 12 to 16+ hours a day with no protective gear & cobalt is an extremely toxic mineral.

•Stop buying new cell phones — buy refurbished or used cell phones every 3 to 5+ years — cobalt is used for the batteries for all cell phones & is currently causing a genocide in Congo.

•Stop buying new electronic devices — laptops, tablets, TVs, smart watches.

•Cobalt is used for the batteries for all cell phones & is currently causing a genocide in Congo.

•Stop taking vacations — do staycations instead.

•Do staycations — local county & state fairs, carnivals, farms, parks, gardens, movie marathons or sleepovers at home, nature trails, hiking, local museums.

•Stop flying in airplanes.

•Do not fly anywhere unless absolutely unavoidable.

•Do not go on cruises.

•Do not stay in hotels.

•Stay in motels, economic lodging, airbnb, vrbo or couch surf with locals.

•Minimize meat intake — stop eating meat Monday through Friday.

•No plastic water bottles.

•Buy water filter + use stainless steel water thermos.

•No showering or bathing.

•Wash at sink with face cloth & soap.

•Do not live in an apartment with a washing machine & dryer.

•Only do laundry at laundromat every 30 to 90+ days.

•Do not live in an apartment with a dishwasher — wash dishes by hands.

•Only do laundry at laundromat every 30 to 90+ days.

•Reduce single use plastic whenever possible.

•Six R’s: Refuse, repair, reduce, reuse, recycle.

•Delete Prime & Amazon account.

•Do not buy from Amazon.

• Borrow books from local library or purchase from local book stores or independent book stores online.

•Stop using fast fashion apps — Shein, Zaful, Romwe, Fashion Nova.

•Stop buying clothes at the mall, department stores & chains.

•Do not buy new clothes.

•Buy used clothes from online & in-person thrift shops — Depop, Mercari, Etsy, Poshmark, Goodwill & consignment stores.

•Reuse current outfits until they are unwearable — 25+ years.

•Only buy new shoes when current pair breaks down — every 10+ years.

•Stop using plastic sanitary pads & plastic tampon applicators — wear period underwear + biodegradable tampons without applicators or period cups or menstrual discs.

•Shave your head yourself with a razor at home every 1 to 3 months — stop going to hair salons & barbershops — do not use any hair products (shampoo, conditioner, oil, gel, spray, etc.) — do not dye hair — do not color gray hairs.

•Wear wigs for 3 to 5+ years before replacing.

•Be frugal & minimize consumerism.

•Do not purchase anything online more than 1 to 3 times a year.

•Do not buy gifts for anyone.

•Advocate for antinatalism — the belief that procreation is immoral & unjust.

•Advocate for the voluntary extinction of the human race both online & in-person.

•Minimize fast food, delivery, takeout & sit down restaurants to a few times a year.

•Do not use KCups & minimize buying coffee at Dunkin Donuts, QuickChek, Wawa, Starbucks or any chain.

•Brew coffee at home with reusable pod.

•Avoid big box retail & chains.

•Shop local grocers, food markets & mom & pop small businesses.

Make these changes because of climate change.

Make the change to save our dying planet!

Make that change!

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wuxianxkexing · 10 months ago

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Modern style head canons

Xie Lian: Comfy grandpa style. Probably wears like sweater vests and sticks to white and lighter shades like tans and grays. Probably mostly wears sweatpants but then doesn't get why people keep on hitting on him. (He has dick I just know it.)

Feng Xin: Probably forever stanning his favorite sports teams, always wearing a sports jacket and/or sports jersey. One of those guys with a cool shoe obsession. Always wears oversized shirts so he doesn't get women thirsting over him (it only helps somewhat). He could just stop exercising so he isn't so buff but it's his passion.

Mu Qing: Dark academia. He kind of wants to be goth or grunge but he doesn't have the confidence to go all out with that so he settled with dark academia as his style. The only hint to him wanting a slightly different style is him refusing to give up his eye liner.

Hua Cheng: Goth boy. Sometimes even slutty goth boy because Xie Lian can fight (he can protect himself but he loves seeing protective Xie Lian). Sometimes he steals Xie Lian's clothes and does an even worse comfy grandpa look because Xie Lian's clothes are a bit too small for him.

Pei Ming: Read online how much women love forearms so he's always wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to be a walking thirst trap. Sometimes will dress like he belongs in some 80s porno.

Ling Wen: Always wears business attire, even when she isn't at work. Is the type of person to go on a hike wearing dress shoes. She just thinks they are more comfortable.

Qi Rong: Dresses like a child. No sense of fashion. He claims that it is artistic expression but really no one gets it.

Quan Yizhan: He probably just wears whatever is "acceptably" clean. Probably mostly has plain t-shirts and anime t-shirts. Only wears jeans.

Yin Yu: Also only wears business attire when out in public, but will make the effort to dress appropriately for whatever activity he is doing. He won't show up to a hike in dress shoes like Ling Wen, he'll switch to sneakers or boots.

Jun Wu: Always wearing the fancy rich people brands like Gucci. He's gifted numerous matching outfits to Xie Lian but Xie Lian always sells them on them eBay because he can't mentally pass up the opportunity to make the money. Also he just doesn't want to wear matching outfits with Jun Wu.

He Xuan: Big titty goth girlfriend. Dresses kind of slutty but it's ok because she can and will fight. Likes to flirt with people so they will buy her food but then she drops them.

Shi Qingxuan: Super girly, almost fairy style. She just wants to look as feminine as possible. Always has killer eyeliner, Hua Cheng and Mu Qing are kind of jealous.

Shi Wudu: Pretty similar to Jun Wu. Always wears rich people brands and gifts only men's clothing to Shi Qingxuan, which she always gives to Xie Lian to promptly sell them on eBay.

#heaven officials blessing #tgcf

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explore24 · 2 months ago

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Top 5 Shoe Brands You Shouldn’t Miss in 2024: A Perfect Blend of Style, Comfort, and Durability

Finding the right pair of shoes is essential—not only for comfort but also for enhancing your personal style and confidence. In today’s fast-paced world, people are constantly on the lookout for shoes that offer a seamless combination of durability, trend, and comfort. The right shoes can elevate your entire outfit, make long hours of standing or walking easier, and even boost your performance in athletic activities.

In this comprehensive blog, I will introduce five top shoe brands in 2024 that are dominating the Indian market, and I’ve included exclusive affiliate links for each brand so you can shop directly with confidence. Let’s take a closer look at what makes these brands stand out, and why they should be your next footwear choice.

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1. Sparx Shoes – The Ultimate Choice for Casual and Athletic Wear

Sparx is a leading brand that offers affordable, durable, and stylish footwear. Whether you're going for a run, hitting the gym, or just hanging out with friends, Sparx shoes are designed to meet all your footwear needs. The brand is renowned for its variety of options, from sports shoes to casual sneakers and slippers.

Key Features of Sparx Shoes:

Durability: Sparx shoes are built to last. Their high-quality soles and sturdy stitching ensure that your shoes can handle wear and tear, whether you're hiking or using them for everyday activities.

Comfort: Sparx uses shock-absorbing soles and breathable materials, which reduce foot fatigue even after long hours of use.

Design Variety: The brand offers numerous design options, making it easy to find a pair that suits your style—whether you're after something sporty or casual.

Affordable: One of the most attractive features of Sparx shoes is their affordability, without compromising on quality.

If you're looking for versatile shoes that won't break the bank, check out the latest Sparx collection here.

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2. Bacca Bucci – Where Fashion Meets Functionality

For those who want to combine style and comfort, Bacca Bucci Shoes are an excellent choice. This brand offers footwear that is not only functional but also fashion-forward, appealing to both men and women. With their trendy designs and durable construction, Bacca Bucci shoes are perfect for those who want to stay ahead of the fashion curve without compromising on comfort.

Key Features of Bacca Bucci Shoes:

High-Quality Materials: Bacca Bucci uses premium leather and synthetic materials to craft shoes that are not only stylish but also long-lasting.

Streetwear-Inspired Designs: Their urban and streetwear-inspired designs make these shoes perfect for young professionals and fashion enthusiasts alike.

Versatility: Whether you're looking for casual sneakers, formal shoes, or boots, Bacca Bucci offers a variety of options suitable for any occasion.

Affordability: Despite the premium look and feel, Bacca Bucci shoes are budget-friendly, making high-end fashion accessible to all.

Explore the full Bacca Bucci collection to find a pair that matches your unique style.

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3. Puma Shoes – Unleash Your Athletic Potential

When it comes to sportswear, Puma is a name that needs no introduction. Known for their innovative designs and cutting-edge technology, Puma shoes are engineered to maximize performance without sacrificing comfort. Whether you're running, training, or playing a sport, Puma has something to enhance your athletic experience.

Key Features of Puma Shoes:

Advanced Technology: Puma shoes are designed with the latest innovations in athletic footwear, including breathable uppers, lightweight midsoles, and responsive cushioning for superior comfort.

Sports-Oriented Designs: Puma shoes are built with athletes in mind. From running shoes to football boots, they offer specialized footwear that optimizes performance in every sport.

Ergonomics: Puma is known for crafting shoes that perfectly fit the contours of your feet, reducing the risk of injury and enhancing your natural movement.

Style and Comfort: Beyond just sports, Puma sneakers have become a fashion statement, perfect for athleisure and casual wear.

Upgrade your athletic gear by checking out the latest Puma shoe collection.

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4. Campus Shoes – Affordable Footwear for Daily Wear

Campus Shoes are synonymous with affordability and comfort. Designed for those who want a reliable pair of shoes for daily activities, Campus offers a wide range of stylish sneakers, casual shoes, and sports shoes. The brand focuses on blending comfort with style, making them a go-to for people from all walks of life.

Key Features of Campus Shoes:

Lightweight Design: Campus shoes are incredibly lightweight, making them ideal for daily wear and long hours of use.

Durability: Even though they're budget-friendly, Campus shoes don’t compromise on quality. Their materials and construction are designed to withstand daily wear and tear.

Innovative Comfort: The cushioned insole and flexible outsole ensure that Campus shoes provide the ultimate comfort, making them suitable for long periods of walking or standing.

Wide Range of Styles: Campus offers everything from simple sneakers to more stylish options for various activities, so you’ll always find a pair that fits your needs.

Explore the latest Campus Shoes and experience unmatched comfort at an affordable price.

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5. Adidas – Iconic Designs and Unmatched Performance

Adidas is a brand that is known for revolutionizing sports footwear. From its iconic three stripes to cutting-edge technology, Adidas Shoes continue to be a favorite among athletes and casual wearers alike. Whether you're looking for running shoes, casual sneakers, or something for specific sports, Adidas offers a wide range of options that deliver style and performance.

Key Features of Adidas Shoes:

High-Tech Performance: Adidas shoes come with advanced features like Boost and Bounce cushioning, providing superior comfort and energy return for enhanced athletic performance.

Stylish Designs: While Adidas shoes are built for performance, they are also a global style icon, with their sleek designs making them a popular choice for streetwear and casual looks.

Durability: Adidas shoes are made from premium materials that ensure long-lasting wear, even in harsh conditions.

Sustainability: Many Adidas shoes are now made from recycled materials, making them a great choice for eco-conscious consumers.

If you're looking for the perfect combination of style and performance, check out the latest Adidas collection.

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Conclusion: Step into Style and Comfort with These Top Shoe Brands

Whether you're looking for a pair of shoes to elevate your casual look, power through your workouts, or simply offer everyday comfort, these top five brands have something for everyone. Each brand offers its unique blend of style, durability, and comfort, ensuring that you find the perfect fit for your lifestyle.

Latest Sparx

By shopping through the exclusive affiliate links provided, you not only get access to top-quality footwear but also support this blog in bringing more valuable, engaging content to you.

So what are you waiting for? Grab your perfect pair of shoes today and step into 2024 with confidence and style!

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